Hello, dear readers!
There is a phrase, originally coined in French by Jean-Baptiste Alphonse Karr (I had to look it up) which loosely translates as ‘The more things change, the more they stay the same’. I think it’s a phrase which sums this year up nicely.
2020 has been a year of many changes. Different rules. Different emotions. Differing values. All have combined in an ever changing landscape which leaves this onlooker dizzy. It’s also been a year of frustrations. Stagnation. Opportunities to go out, explore, and socialise a rare and valuable commodity.
Yes, 2020 has been a strange dichotomy of a year. Thankfully, it seems to be crawling to a close.
Wednesday, 14 October 2020
Wednesday, 7 October 2020
A Titch In Time
Hello, dear readers!
Today I feel old.
Admittedly, this may be because I am a little more advanced in years than I was, but today I feel every one of my forty-six years.
There are reasons for this. Of course there is. Big reasons. Valid reasons. There’s the current world situation, which I think has started (started?) to be a drain on everyone. There’s my pernicious Anemia which, thanks to an outstanding case of personal negligence and an injection I should have had two weeks ago, means my energy levels are somewhere in the region of a three-toed sloth on a go slow.
Neither of those are the real reason, though. No, the real reason is a big birthday. A landmark birthday. And it wasn’t even mine.
Sister Act
From time to time, I may have mentioned my family in these poor scribblings. I know my wife, Tina, is a frequent flier, and my mum and dad have both featured from time to time. I don’t think I’ve mentioned my sisters much, though. It’s an oversight I’d like to correct.
I have two sisters, both younger than myself. There’s Janine, two years my junior, and Leanne, who, as of today, is six years younger than your esteemed blogger. Janine will no doubt get her moment in the sun in a future post, but as you may have guessed today is Leanne’s birthday and as it’s a biggie, it is she that get’s the spotlight.
Memory Lane
Leanne is one of the few people I can honestly say I’ve known all their lives. In fact, one of my earliest coherent memories is going with my dad to visit mum and my brand new sister in hospital. When I say I can remember, I have a very clear recollection of the hospital, and my somewhat exhausted looking mother. The wrapped up pink thing? Well, I’m not sure that got my full attention. It wasn’t an action man, or an ice-cream. It can’t have been that important.
Again, I’m not one for the early memories (or the late memories. Or what I had for tea two nights back). I can remember Leanne as a chubby little thing who earned the nickname ‘Titch’ growing into a tall skinny thing we still called ‘Titch’. I can remember the feeling of being slightly outnumbered by the women in the family. I can remember my sister’s bedroom being completely off limits while mine (along with my all my stuff) was fair game (and yes, I do still resent that). I remember books I’d read becoming books Leanne was reading (we, along with my mum, were always the readers of the family).
As we all navigated our teen years, I remember the enthusiastic, possibly inebriated, and not-at-all-embarrassing-in-front-of-your-mates shouts of ‘buy me a drink, Mark. Buy me a drink’. Oh yes, I remember those well. They do say repetition aids the memory though, don’t they? As we got older, I remember the Corned Beef Hash Leanne made me that was missing the Corned Beef.
Take The Cake
These days we’re all older and potentially wiser (it wouldn’t be difficult). Leanne has two kids of her own to embarrass and be embarrassed by, and a loving partner (hi Darren) to stand by her. We might live twelve miles apart these days rather than on each other’s doorsteps. We still take the time out to meet up for family events, the increasing number of birthdays, the odd meal… or at least we used to.
Today I feel old.
Admittedly, this may be because I am a little more advanced in years than I was, but today I feel every one of my forty-six years.
There are reasons for this. Of course there is. Big reasons. Valid reasons. There’s the current world situation, which I think has started (started?) to be a drain on everyone. There’s my pernicious Anemia which, thanks to an outstanding case of personal negligence and an injection I should have had two weeks ago, means my energy levels are somewhere in the region of a three-toed sloth on a go slow.
Neither of those are the real reason, though. No, the real reason is a big birthday. A landmark birthday. And it wasn’t even mine.
Sister Act
From time to time, I may have mentioned my family in these poor scribblings. I know my wife, Tina, is a frequent flier, and my mum and dad have both featured from time to time. I don’t think I’ve mentioned my sisters much, though. It’s an oversight I’d like to correct.
I have two sisters, both younger than myself. There’s Janine, two years my junior, and Leanne, who, as of today, is six years younger than your esteemed blogger. Janine will no doubt get her moment in the sun in a future post, but as you may have guessed today is Leanne’s birthday and as it’s a biggie, it is she that get’s the spotlight.
Memory Lane
Leanne is one of the few people I can honestly say I’ve known all their lives. In fact, one of my earliest coherent memories is going with my dad to visit mum and my brand new sister in hospital. When I say I can remember, I have a very clear recollection of the hospital, and my somewhat exhausted looking mother. The wrapped up pink thing? Well, I’m not sure that got my full attention. It wasn’t an action man, or an ice-cream. It can’t have been that important.
Again, I’m not one for the early memories (or the late memories. Or what I had for tea two nights back). I can remember Leanne as a chubby little thing who earned the nickname ‘Titch’ growing into a tall skinny thing we still called ‘Titch’. I can remember the feeling of being slightly outnumbered by the women in the family. I can remember my sister’s bedroom being completely off limits while mine (along with my all my stuff) was fair game (and yes, I do still resent that). I remember books I’d read becoming books Leanne was reading (we, along with my mum, were always the readers of the family).
As we all navigated our teen years, I remember the enthusiastic, possibly inebriated, and not-at-all-embarrassing-in-front-of-your-mates shouts of ‘buy me a drink, Mark. Buy me a drink’. Oh yes, I remember those well. They do say repetition aids the memory though, don’t they? As we got older, I remember the Corned Beef Hash Leanne made me that was missing the Corned Beef.
Take The Cake
These days we’re all older and potentially wiser (it wouldn’t be difficult). Leanne has two kids of her own to embarrass and be embarrassed by, and a loving partner (hi Darren) to stand by her. We might live twelve miles apart these days rather than on each other’s doorsteps. We still take the time out to meet up for family events, the increasing number of birthdays, the odd meal… or at least we used to.
Covid, and my self isolation from it, means I haven’t seen either of my sisters, my nephews, or my nieces in months. In that time, birthdays and anniversaries have slid by, but this one I’m feeling. Like I said, this one’s a biggie, a landmark in any person’s life, and it feels like I should be in the family's midst, sharing food (Cake), conversation, and laughter. It feels like this one shouldn’t be sliding by. It feels like Covid has taken the day away from us.
Mark Time
So yes, I know it’s not my birthday, but it still makes me feel old. Not just because my littlest sister is forty (although that has a huge amount to do with it) but because time seems lost. Spent without being marked. I think we all get the feeling time is moving too fast as we age. This year I think we all appreciate that lost time more.
Happy Birthday, out Titch
Until next time...
Wednesday, 30 September 2020
Park & Ride
Hello, dear readers!
Today is a tired-y day.
This is the name I give to the days when I wake up feeling exhausted and go gradually downhill from there. It’s something I’m sure many people with a chronic illness will be familiar with and I’m mentioning it not because that’s the subject of today’s post, but in case you find my normal, somewhat questionable, standards have taken a free-diving-pot holing-limbo dance of a descent into the hellish depths of uninspired gibberish.
Of course you’d be able to tell the difference!
As for the actual subject of today’s offering, well, that’s all to do with a single hour in the fresh air and the drama which preceded it.
Today is a tired-y day.
This is the name I give to the days when I wake up feeling exhausted and go gradually downhill from there. It’s something I’m sure many people with a chronic illness will be familiar with and I’m mentioning it not because that’s the subject of today’s post, but in case you find my normal, somewhat questionable, standards have taken a free-diving-pot holing-limbo dance of a descent into the hellish depths of uninspired gibberish.
Of course you’d be able to tell the difference!
As for the actual subject of today’s offering, well, that’s all to do with a single hour in the fresh air and the drama which preceded it.
Wednesday, 23 September 2020
An Uneven Keel
Hello, dear readers!
There’s a lot to be said for the uninteresting life.
That may sound a little strange coming from someone who’s been relatively vocal regarding these days of self isolation and the scarcity of things to blog about. I mean, surely, you might say, it is life’s ups and downs that lend it colour, contrast (and possibly other knobs you can twiddle on your telly). Surely it’s that variety which makes life worth living. It’s a sentiment I would have been more than happy to agree with, even in these more challenging times.
Right up until the day one of the wheels fell off my wheelchair.
There’s a lot to be said for the uninteresting life.
That may sound a little strange coming from someone who’s been relatively vocal regarding these days of self isolation and the scarcity of things to blog about. I mean, surely, you might say, it is life’s ups and downs that lend it colour, contrast (and possibly other knobs you can twiddle on your telly). Surely it’s that variety which makes life worth living. It’s a sentiment I would have been more than happy to agree with, even in these more challenging times.
Right up until the day one of the wheels fell off my wheelchair.
Wednesday, 16 September 2020
Question Time
Hello, dear readers!
Ask a silly question and you get a silly answer.
This is a truism I'm more than aware of, both in the asking and in the answering senses. In fact, it's not just silly questions that leave themselves open to being answered in kind, sometimes serious, fact-seeking, knowledge-hungry questions are treated to real humdingers of an answer, as any outtake video from Family Fortunes can attest.
Giving the wrong answer with conviction and certainty something yours truly is far from immune to as the host of the last quiz I attended can (and will) attest (both loudly and frequently).
This week, however, the tables are turned. This week I'll be the one asking the questions.
Thursday, 10 September 2020
Kicking Off
Hello, dear readers!
I don’t think it’s the most controversial of opinions to say 2020 isn’t a year which will feature in too many peoples personal highlight reels.
In fact, it might be more true to say the year, thus far, could be likened to a burning sixteen-wheeler containing nitro-glycerine, chemical waste, and human excrement speeding helplessly towards a children’s hospital with the stereo playing The Best of Michael Bublé (featuring Crazy Frog) at full blast. And that’s putting it mildly.
It has been a year of scant positivity. A year where I’ve had to take my thrills where I can find them. Luckily, this weekend sees the return of something which promises to bring at least something along those lines. This weekend sees the return of football.
Wednesday, 2 September 2020
Picnic
Hello, dear readers!
Modern life can be tough.
There’s so much to learn. Especially for neanderthal Luddites like myself. A whole new world of possibilities opened up by our growing understanding of our world and the universe it exists in. Technology’s relentless march continues unabated, bringing with it a life which is simpler and easier to navigate. A life in which the vexations of day-to-day living become smoothed as machines take them and computers take the stress out of the decisions we must make. Truly, it is a time beyond compare. A golden age.
Assuming you can get the things to work, of course.
Yes, you’re right. The topic of this week’s offering is, at least in part, technology.
Modern life can be tough.
There’s so much to learn. Especially for neanderthal Luddites like myself. A whole new world of possibilities opened up by our growing understanding of our world and the universe it exists in. Technology’s relentless march continues unabated, bringing with it a life which is simpler and easier to navigate. A life in which the vexations of day-to-day living become smoothed as machines take them and computers take the stress out of the decisions we must make. Truly, it is a time beyond compare. A golden age.
Assuming you can get the things to work, of course.
Yes, you’re right. The topic of this week’s offering is, at least in part, technology.
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