Ridiculous

Somebody likes a good old water fight. Sends the crazy one even crazier.

Being crazy is hot work, especially when it’s HOT. The little garden weather station reached the big four zero.

That is ridiculous. Maybe not for some places but for Yorkshire, seriously ridiculous. I know it’s unofficial and inaccurate but for what it’s worth, that temperature would have smashed the old UK hottest ever recorded temperature. Many places here officially smashed the old record on Tuesday.

What’s the old Kipling line – mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the midday sun.

Well briefly…..

A quick water fight and a well earned ice pop under the shade of the old apple tree, then it was back inside again. NO this is not just a summer thing. This has never been a Yorkshire Summer, not even close.

What have we done.

When are those in charge going to take this seriously.

Our so called Prime Minister skipped an emergency weather planning meeting so he could focus fully on organising a celebration party for himself……. Surely no sane person would ever vote for these self obsessed chancers.

That thought should make all our blood boil. It better do and fast because if it doesn’t then the blood of our future generations will definitely BOIL.

Worst

Biodiversity captured in one photo. Just moments later Captain Chaos decided it was a great place to cock his leg. The flying creatures didn’t hang around after that….

Maybe I should send The Captain to 10 Downing Street. Maybe that’s the only way of getting The Serial Liar to finally quit, end this nightmare and we can get our country back again.

Look at the mess here in the UK. That is what happens when you give power to the worst amongst us. When will we learn.

Downton

The village went all Downton Abbey like last weekend. Can’t think why 🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔

Bizarrely we watched Downton the other night. Hawklad is rather taken by the whole thing. It’s fictionally set somewhere round here but filmed mostly outside of Yorkshire. Just like the cool start to an American Werewolf in London, that spooky Yorkshire Pub and foggy Moor was randomly filmed in Wales – clearly real Yorkshire is even TOO scary for a Horror Movie. The Earl, his family and servants keep visiting places right around us. It is most unsettling when they look nothing like the real place. They went riding just a few miles from us and I had a thought, I hope I remembered to pick up the mad dog’s morning constitutional poo. Would hate for the good noble family horse shoes to step in that.

It’s been one of those few days. Actually it’s been one of those few weeks. Not enough sleep, school issues, work issues, life issues, just ISSUES. Never stopping, running around in ever decreasing circles and actually achieving absolutely nothing. Where do those 24 hours go…..

So I walked through the village looking at the bunting while thinking, odds on that our mad dog will at some stage try to pull all that lot down and then bury it in our front lawn. Out of nowhere a villager stuck his head out of the village hall and shouted, “When are you bringing the cucumbers for the sandwiches”. This villager could have well been a head butler in a past life. A head butler with remarkably bad eyesight as his next words demonstrated. “Oh I’m sorry, you are not Margaret…”. Never been mistaken for a Margaret before. Never even mistaken for a woman. Even when I dressed in a full on and very well ventilated French Can Can costume and ended up walking through a town centre searching for the Uni Party, I was DEFINITELY NOT ladylike MOST DEFINITELY not mistaken for a woman.

Accident

Morning view
Evening view
Dog view

Not a great time to have hay fever. A dog with hay fever. He sneezes and sneezes. Wow does he get some distance…… I’ve said it before, imagine being slimed just like Peter Venkman was in Ghostbusters. All done with a wagging tail. He’s having fun with it.

But it has messed up his taste sensation. That’s what his Vet has said. So he only eats warm food now. Only eats it outside. Whatever the weather, outside. Only eats if one of us sits next to him. As the Vet says, he is a complex Chap (that’s Captain Chaos not the Vet). No wonder you don’t get many Cocker Spaniel, German Spitz crosses. In this case, definitely an accident in a park.

He was brought into the family to bring back the feeling of life and fun. He has definitely, definitely done that.

Sneezing

A misty morning walk. Just the morning chorus of bird calls. A time to contemplate. A time to focus on what is truly important to me.

Actually there was another sound on this walk. The sound of sneezing. One of the delights of having a dog with inflamed nasal passages. We have a dog with rhinitis. Our dog has hay fever. Our dog takes the same hay fever tablets that I do. It’s a bizarre feeling taking a tablet then handing another one to the excited Mutt.

He sneezes. He sneezes lots when it’s misty. Then we passed a dog walker coming out of the mist. The other dog started barking and growling. What did Captain Chaos do in retaliation. He sneezed more. He gave the other dog a good sneezing.

That showed that dog who the alpha male is.

In between the sneezing it was also time to start to think about the delights of the upcoming School Parents Evening. The school is still using online video chats for that. Parents (and I guess sneezing dogs) can book a 4 minute video chat with a subject teacher. That’s FOUR minutes. This will be the third time I’ve done these. You do only get 4 minutes. Actually less. You have to wait for the teacher to sign in (no time added for that). The teacher then tries to quickly summarise results and progress. You get a couple of minutes to ask questions. Then the screen goes blank as the time runs out (just like in Independence Day).

So starting at 4pm I have 9 FOUR minute video chats with teachers, back to back, separated with TWO minute gaps until the next one starts. It’s madness. It’s modern schooling. It just doesn’t make sense. Especially now. Especially as many of these teachers have still yet to speak directly to Hawklad’s. Actually if I could drag Hawklad away from the Xbox, maybe we could use the 4 minutes to introduce the teacher to the pupil they are teaching. Sorry am I get cynical…. Actual the more I think about that, maybe that might be worth it.

The other plan is to list the key schooling issues we have and then raise one issue with each teacher. No time for more than that. Not ideal but it’s worth a stab. The teachers that seem to get it will get the most important issues. A couple of the teachers will get subject related questions. Maybe just maybe some of these short chats will open up new avenues. However the previous ones sadly didn’t open up any avenues but we live in hope.

Surely one day the schooling mist is going to clear.

Shy cat

Yesterday the mad dog got a bit of blogging attention, well today his partner in crime is getting the spotlight. It’s big fat cat time.

Shame he’s a bit shy….

Or is it just sign that it’s such a hard life being a big fat cat.

Here’s the thing. I feel like copying the cat sometimes. Well not that thing he does when he’s bent double…. But definitely this covering the eyes truck. Definitely feeling tired and worn down. Parenting doesn’t really give you many breaks. Single parenting since 2016, no meaningful breaks really. No holidays. No letting what’s left of my hair down. Throw a pandemic in and each day seems to be very similar to last one. Spooky that it was Groundhog Day this week, apparently the little hog chap farted which means it’s another 6 weeks of eating Lasagna or something like that. You get the picture.

This feeling will pass. I’ve had these spells before. A better nights sleep will help. Maybe a shed load of caffeine and chocolate will do the trick. Mum would get me to play some sad music as a pick me up, so where is my Pink Floyd – Final Cut album (wow that’s a cheerful thing) or even darker, The Best of Alvin and the Chipmunks. But until I get my mojo back, maybe that soft, big pudding of a cat has a point, at least for one night.

Terrible Poetry

Somedays are more tiring than others. Some days are more stressful than others. Somedays the serious words don’t come. Somedays it’s best just be silly.

It’s been too long. Actually I can hear shouts of ‘not long enough’. But here goes. It’s Terrible Poetry time. The Bad Bard is back. All thanks to Chelsea Owens Terrible Poetry contest.

https://chelowens.com/category/contests/terrible-poetry-contest/

This time the rules are….

  1. Topic: The family pet, written Golden Shovel Style. Here are the rules for the Golden Shovel: Take a line (or lines) from a poem you admire. Use each word in the line (or lines) as an end word in your poem. Keep the end words in order. Give credit to the poet who originally wrote the line (or lines). The new poem does not have to be about the same subject as the poem that offers the end words.
  2. The Length is up to you.
  3. As far as I can tell, Rhyming is up to you, too.
  4. Whatever, man, just make it terrible!Dredge up Fido’s memories and remains through the worst eulogy printed on Purina Puppy Chow. Set the still-living Princess Catarina howling in indignance. Send Horace the hamster spinning with rage.
  5. Let’s keep the Rating: PG or cleaner. How risqué do your animals get?

You have till 8:00 a.m. MST next Thursday (February 3) to submit a poem to Chelsea.

So which classic poem shall we go for. Something poetic, something beautiful, something deep, something philosophical. Let’s go for a classic opening line that ticks all those boxes. Maybe Shakespeare, maybe Blake, maybe Wordsworth. Or maybe Philip Larkin, maybe his classic ‘This be the verse’ with its uplifting first line…..

‘They F**k you up, your mum and dad’

That’s me kicked out before I even start…..

So let’s use those poetic word gems do type an ode to Captain Chaos. Let’s make it Terrible.

His best buddy is a seriously fat cat, it’s far too quiet, where are THEY

They have just pulled the curtain off the wall, what the F**K

Now it’s on the floor, covered in hairs, well Thank YOU

Captain now thinks it’s great fun to try to hump the cat, that’s seriously messed UP

Even The Cap knows you can’t end a sentence with a possessive determiner like YOUR

But he is a clever dog with a great pedigree, a beautiful white Spitz is his MUM

He gets his intelligence, looks, fluffy hair and cunning from her AND

being a right ruffian, rogue, rascal and rampantly randy from his Cocker Spaniel DAD

Time changes

Virtually every day for over two decades I have looked at this landscape. Looked at that tree, stood alone in the next farmers field. The occasional trip away, the all too infrequent Swiss day broke those years up. But definitely for 6 years, every day I have looked upon that view.

After my partner died, I couldn’t contemplate making changes to the house. It just didn’t seem right. Then a few hesitant steps. Clothes, shoes, handbags and some books taken to a charity shop. But her cd’s are still sat, untouched, in the same place. Her ornament largely in the same locations. But now the mindset is changing. Time for change if Hawklad is ready.

A start will be my partners cd’s. A quick scan revealing a taste for 80’s pop and dance music. They are never going to get played in this metal and rock house. Music is such a waste of its not played. Time to move them on to a better home. Ok I might keep the Dido cd…..

I’m looking at a sofa that is over 20 years old. Cats, a mad climbing dog, food and drink spills, my enormous backside has taken its toll on the poor thing now. It’s really time for a change. Well kind of. Hawklad would appreciate some more comfort but is kinda attached. So we have plan b. But a new sofa, finally change the living room look. But the old sofa can find its way into the conservatory.

That’s still change.

Life has moved on.

I’m not stood by that permanently closed door anymore.