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Live on the edge

This counts as excitement here in Yorkshire. We know how to live on the edge.

I don’t really celebrate my birthday anymore. It’s more associated with being the day that we lost our mum. But I did start a new tradition. It would almost become a second birthday for our son. If the Queen can have two birthdays then so can Hawklad. So I get him his favourite cake, that’s buy it not bake it (wouldn’t do that to him). He gets to eat his favourite meal which is probably pizza at the moment. We would normally have a trip out somewhere but not this year…. Finally he gets a present. So what present does he want this year.

“I’ve been giving it some thought and decided.”

My money is on either a computer game or maybe a wrestling figure.

“I would like Chilli Soup.”

What as your special meal?

“No as my present. That way I get two special meals.”

Well you can have two special meals this year and still have a present.

“No will stick to the Chilli Soup as a present. “

I’m not like the Genie in the Lamp. Not going to hold you strictly to three wishes. Plus I struggle to count past 2 these days. You can still have a present.”

“No that’s the deal this year.”

*******

Well he’s going to get his Chilli Soup. It’s either going to be Beef Or Pumpkin Chilli. He’s going to get his pizza night. AND yes he’s going to get a present, just need to think of one now. Maybe a joint present. One we both can enjoy. That would kinda work.

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Hill

This is at the maximum zoom on my old digital camera. Probably takes about 30 minutes to drive here. It’s called Garrowby Hill. It is the highest point of the Yorkshire Wolds and is just over 800ft above sea level. It’s supposed to be a lovely view from the top but in all the years we have never stopped here. Surprising given the number of times we have driven past it.

We are now moving close to THOSE six weeks. Starts on my birthday, the day my mum left us and then 6 weeks later ends when my partner left this world. That was some 6 weeks in 2016. But it’s a bittersweet time as those 6 weeks usually make the start and end of the school summer holidays as well. A time when son is free of the trials of education. A chance to be free and a kid again.

Well let’s concentrate on the free and kid bit. That’s this years plan anyway. Yes recall good memories but try to remember it’s 2020. Not 2016. I guess a bit like Garrowby Hill. We can see it but it doesn’t mean we have to go and stop there. So yes 2016 will always be there but we don’t have to stop there.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 56 Comments

Needs work

Another moody Yorkshire summer afternoon. Everyday it’s such a blessing to wake to this view. No wonder my partner fell in love with this house within seconds. And as ever she was on the right side of the conversation. The ‘needs work’ line was a little weak. Actually it still needs work but that view is still here. Tell me what’s more important.

Looking back my line about ‘needs work’ was more about avoiding change. Sticking with what we had. Avoiding that leap of faith. That’s been a theme of my life story so far. I always think my past climbing hobby is a perfect reflection of life. Many goals set but never attempted. It was easier to avoid them, find excuses. Too much caution climbing routes. Using fear and self doubt as an excuse to avoid those more challenging climbs. Backing away from leaps of faith. Yes I had fun but what could have been.

Now the life safety net has been removed. Single parenting and being without that person who held my hand on those big steps. Life has changed but so am I. It’s a slow process but it’s happening. Now is the time to face some of those fears which have held me back. Time to start ditching those constraints that have grounded me. Time to re-evaluate myself. Only by doing that can I be that parent our son truly deserves. Yes the one who protects him but the one who also encourages him to truly flourish. To be that person who he truly wants to be. To live his life.

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Pathway

The gap between the hedge and the Apple tree has basically disappeared. All this enforced time at home and somebody has been neglecting the garden. Unbelievable. But I quite like the results. Often it’s best to let nature takes its own course. So much easier that way as well…..

Every second Wednesday is becoming a right bind. Our bins are emptied every two weeks. This includes the garden waste bin. So when it comes to the day of putting out the bins I get that sinking feeling. Please let the green bin (now a brown bin for some reason) be at least half full. When I open the lid, I want to see plenty of grass cuttings, hedge trimmings and pulled up weeds. I want that feeling of elation that comes from two weeks worth of gardening. So I can close the bin lid and wheel it out onto the road. A job well done.

That’s the theory.

In practice I open the bin lid to find its completely empty. Oh big pants. Now I feel bad. I clearly have been wearing my laziest big pants. The inner shame drives me to fill the bin before the refuse wagon arrives. This being Yorkshire means a mad couple of hours gardening in driving rain and hail. That regular routine was repeated this morning. While I’m fighting the gardening elements I can hear my Mums words echoing around my exceedingly wet head. You just need to do 10 minutes a day of weeding and you get the perfect garden without breaking your back. One day I will follow this sage advice.

So the bin was filled. It was wheeled out onto the road and it felt like that was the gardening done for another two weeks. See I never learn.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 68 Comments

Useful Book

Yes we can do blue skies…..

It didn’t last long but it was most gratefully received.

Trying to facilitate son’s return to the big bad world is not going to be easy. It’s going to take a long time and much patience. It has to be done at a pace which he is comfortable with. That’s the plan but then the real world comes a knocking.

His fears of bugs and illnesses have gone into overdrive in 2020. Can’t think why! We have established routines for accepting deliveries and post. Any trip through the front door requires what feels like full biological decontamination protocols. It’s not really about blocking out a virus, it’s about managing anxiety.

Over the last three months we have managed two very short circular car drives. But now we face our first real test. A phone call from my garage telling me that finally an essential car part has made its way from China. So it’s time to get the car’s breaking system fixed. So on Monday I have to drive 20 miles, drop off the car and pick up a garage pool car. Then later in the day return to the garage and pick up a fixed car. Normally this process would be done seamlessly. Now it’s a logistical and anxiety nightmare.

Does son stay at home while I go to the garage? On my return I can undertake full biological decontamination. Son struggles with being alone. He will be stressed out with being by himself for a couple of hours. He will be super stressed out with my exposure to the real world.

Or does he comes with me? Yes that avoids the stress of being alone BUT…. Suddenly son would be exposed to the real world. And lots of it. A garage filled with strangers. A pool car which will have had other people sat in the seats. Touching the surfaces. Another stress inducing nightmare for him….

So currently I don’t know what will happen on Monday. I’m getting stressed out trying to run through all the possible logistical permutations. But that pales into insignificance to the bucket loads of stress which will be hitting our son. Again I can’t find a helpful section on this in the How To Be Parent Book. One day someone is going to make a bucket load of money writing this. Well if they could get it published within the next few days you can count on one sale from me…..

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 71 Comments

Plant Life

It doesn’t look the most impressive plant but it certainly has meaning.

Something like 18 years ago we had just moved into the house. The garden was so badly overgrown. The lawn was more like a corn field. Took us three days to cut it. Having revealed the garden we found it appeared to have no flowering plants. Many weeds and one Apple tree. I guess that’s called a blank canvass.

A week or so later the village had a plant fare and we nervously ventured down to it. We knew hardly anyone there. We did meet some lovely people. Unfortunately over time those we get to know have either left or sadly passed away. Can’t remember much about the actual fare apart from my partner telling me that we needed to buy something. I randomly picked a hand full of plants. As we were late the selection of healthy plants was completely exhausted. Our new plants looked somewhere between decidedly unhealthy and dead. They didn’t survive long. All except one and here it still is. Who would of thought that the most sickly looking plant would end up outliving my partner and a number of the residents at the fare. Life is definitely bizarre and it is often so unfair. But that is life. We need to treasure it, treasure all life.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 104 Comments

Yorkshire is good for something

I remember my parents telling me that – ‘You were born in Yorkshire not in England.’ Rather sums up many of the views round here. We like to call it the People’s Republic of The White Rose. Surely it’s time for our county and our neighbours Lancashire to put two fingers up to Johnson in London.

So if Yorkshire did go it’s own way what could the world expect. Apart from weaponised Rhubard. Well as a taste, let’s see what Yorkshire has given to the world already…..

Yorkshire Tea

Cluedo

Cats Eyes

Stainless Steel

Sparkling Water

Guy Fawkes

Wensleydale Cheese (Wallace & Gromits favourite)

Yorkshire Puddings

Steam Locomotives

The Bronte Sisters

The first ever full sized glider (50 years before the Wright Brothers)

Michael Palin

Judy Dench

Sean Bean

The worlds loudest actor – Brian Blessed

The current Dr Who

Captain of the Star Trek Enterprise and the Head of the X-Men

And then we come to the really important stuff. The sweets…

Liquorice Allsorts

Jelly Totts

Jelly Babies

Polo’s

Aero

Quality Street

Terry’s Chocolate Orange

Smarties

Yorkie Bars

Kit Kat’s

After 8 Mints

Rolo

See Yorkshire can be a driving force for good. A beacon of hope and rain. A place lost in time. Where chocolate is still seen as a staple food. Up the Great Republic.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 99 Comments

Goodbye Mr Sun

The last few hours of the day. Last few hours of blue skies. When we wake tomorrow, the rain will have arrived. Then it’s Yorkshire summer weather…. Cool, windy and generally a bit damp. There is a local expression

The kinda weather that puts hairs on ya back.

I would rather have those hairs on the top of my head thank you very much. Like many places we have our fair share of odd local expressions. Books as long as War and Peace have been written about the art of speaking proper Yorkshire. Most of those books are currently waiting translation into other languages, including English. A few examples of the local dialect include

  • Did I eckers like (of course I did not)
  • Wang eh o’er (please could you pass me that)
  • Ow much (that’s rather expensive)
  • Ay could’ve huffed tha we ma stic’o Rhubard (how did that batsman miss that really easy ball)
  • Ya daf hapeth (that was a bit of a mistake that you have just made)
  • Da’s nowt s’queer as folk (people can be a little odd at times)
  • Topped his clogs (unfortunately someone has just died)
  • Now lad it’s jiggered (excuse me sir that item is broken)
  • Tha’s a reyt Bobby Dazzler (you are looking lovely)
  • Yer brews mashin (the tea is in the teapot and will be strong enough in about a days time)
  • Ya betta count yer goolies (I am very sorry that very hard cricket ball has struck you in that painful spot, are they ok)
  • Ya doin ma eddin (You are confusing me)

I have a soft local accent. An accent I guess my Dad would have called ‘posh Yorkshire‘. But it’s still Yorkshire and that’s just fine with me. Ok it does have some downsides. Like no voice recognition software has ever been designed to cope with Yorkshire. I remember having a hire car which when I asked the satellite navigation to ‘take me home’ it would repeatedly switch on the heater. Or the time in a London restaurant when I ordered a mushroom pizza and the rather bemused waiter served me a children’s serving of paella.

That’s why you will never catch me doing a video blog. Especially as I have a face perfect for radio……

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Rose

First garden rose of the year. Ok strictly speaking it’s the neighbours rose. It’s sneaked through a hole in the fence which I should have fixed by now. But I will take this.

“Dad what are you doing?”

I was trying to build a DIY fire pit. The last one had disintegrated in the lovely Yorkshire winter weather. Trying to harness my inner Bear Grylls, I was in the zone.

“Are the sides supposed to be so uneven. Is it a square, a circle, triangle or pentagon?”

Ok it had some symmetrical issues….. it started off as a square.

“Oh, well it isn’t a square now. And the height is all over the place. It’s like looking at The Alps.”

Yes that was an unexpected design feature.

“It’s not the most sheltered spot. Not sure lighting a fire will be easy there.”

Didn’t think about that….

“Don’t you think it’s a little close to the oil tank.”

Oops I forgot about that great big green tank with OIL and FLAMMABLE written in big letters down its side.

“Dad I’ve got a better idea. Why don’t we forget about the fire pit. When we need a BBQ then why don’t we just run an electric extension cable outside. Then we can just rig the George Foreman Grill to work outside. Job done and you don’t need to spend days trying to light the fire….”

That sounds like a better plan.

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Get my head round

The sun is shining. It’s still cold but we will settle for this.

So it’s almost official. School has emailed parents to say that looking at the latest government guidance – which apparently isn’t much – only some Primary pupils and those sitting final exams next year will get any direct teaching over the next few months. The earliest Son will be back in school is going to be September. So it’s time to get our heads round this.

Looking at the government’s plan for the economy – doesn’t take long as it’s basically wrote on the back of the PMs hand – probably means the company I work for won’t be operating anytime before September. That’s being extremely optimistic and requires an awful lot of good fortune. Being realistic there is a high probability it will not survive. So it’s time to get our heads round this.

It’s also time to get my head round the likelihood that I won’t be seeing my brother and sisters much in 2020. If things improve then maybe visits at Christmas might be a possibility. Realistically meet ups are not happening anytime this side of September. Already one Government official has said Summer family holidays and meet ups are cancelled, as these are unsafe – but apparently getting on a packed bus and going to work is completely safe.

AND WE HAVE TO GET OUR HEADS ROUND TWO EVEN MORE PRESSING MATTERS.

  • How are we going to celebrate my partners birthday in just over a weeks time. We had been planning on doing a camp fire party. Unfortunately the fire pit didn’t survive the Yorkshire winter. Yesterday I tried to pick it up to clean and the metal just crumbled, leaving me holding just two wooden handles. At least they can be used as fire wood. The other idea was to have my partners favourite meal – Chinese. Unfortunately the local takeaways are still closed and the local supermarket is completely sold out of Chinese food – apart from crispy seaweed. Which brought the response “well the gerbils will eat well then….”. I did offer to cook Chinese from scratch, but that brought the response “I’d rather suck on a gooseberry….”. So we are in plan F territory.
  • “Dad I am so missing not going on my trampoline.” A couple of months back our garden pigeons decided to nest right next to the big bouncy thing (thats not my tummy before you say anything….). When I say right next to, I mean within 10 centimetres (not using inches will really upset Boris). Well the pigeons and chicks are showing no sign of moving, so I have two options. One is to dismantle and then rebuild somewhere else. Problem is that it’s in the only flat part of the garden and it’s like trying to assemble a Super Tanker. The instructions helpfully explained that you will need three reasonably fit adults to assemble. They failed to mention at least one of those adults must be an expert in structural engineering and the other two will need to have the strength of The Hulk. The other option is to try and drag the complete trampoline. We tried yesterday and after 30 minutes had shifted it 1 cm (up yours Boris). So we are also on Plan F here as well.

But at least the sun is shining.