Nearly f**king February

I’ve probably said this before, late in January, but where the Hell has January gone so fast? Normally, I find the post-Christmas Winter months dragging along like a dead body being dragged through mud, but now here we are, about to erupt into February, and I barely feel like the first month has touched me at all. I shouldn’t complain really – every day that passes pulls us closer to Spring – but I do worry that my life is passing by me quicker than a cynophobic passes a dog show.  It seems to have got worse after becoming a parent. I guess I’m so engrossed in the day-to-day changes in Mathew’s personality, and the day-to-day challenges of keeping him well, that I’m not paying attention to the weeks and months, because I’m too busy keeping things in the moment.

Probably better for me psychologically, so I hope it goes on.

RC 31-1-20

A distinct lack of lists...

Recently I have neglected to thrill you with some of my ‘Rory Lists’.

Some might say this is a positive thing, as writing ‘witty’ lists is a lazy way to fill a blog posting, but I’ve always thought it gives you a little insight into my life and my mind, in a way that reasoned, thought-through, properly-written efforts wouldn’t, so I like to do them occasionally.

So here’s a few that I threw together at work today:

HOBBIES I’VE STARTED AND THEN NOT REALLY CARRIED ON WITH:

Magic.

Juggling.

Several languages.

IDEAL INGREDIENTS FOR BREAKFAST ON A WINTER’S MORNING:

Toasted tiger bread.

Poached eggs.

Crispy bacon.

Strong coffee.

Apple juice.

Grilled mushrooms.

Cumberland sausages.

THINGS NOT TO SAY TO SOMEONE JUST AFTER HAVING SEX WITH THEM:

“Your sister is noisier.”

“I promise that I’ll get in contact as soon as I’ve had the results of last weeks tests at the clinic.”

“That’ll do, pig. That’ll do.”

God I’ve just had a case of déjà vu. I’m convinced, after typing that last list, that I’ve already used exactly the same phrases in a blog posting before. I’d hate to repeat myself so I should really double-check by looking at all my previous blogs. I can’t be arsed to read back through nearly two-and-a-half thousand of them though, so sod it. It can stay as it is.

RC 30-1-20

No More Work Talk

Discussing things relating to my employers just depresses, angers and demoralises me, so that particular topic is off-limits for a while. So instead I shall write about something completely different: Philippa’s job, not mine.

She’s gone back and flown into it brilliantly. She had a year off and yet she seems to have picked it up easier than she did when she first started. Maybe she needed the Motherhood Hormones all along. They had a long conversation before Christmas about what hours she would do and eventually settled on Wednesday to Friday 8am to 4pm. It fits in nicely with what I do, and Mathew has already adapted to the new routine without missing a beat. One of the best friends we’ve made since we moved to Suffolk is the sister of a registered pre-school childminder, so he spends two days with Amy, who is an absolute gem, and then Philippa’s parents have him overnight every Thursday.

It’s working really well. We meet them somewhere for a bite to eat in the evening, then they take him home, then Philippa goes over to collect him on the Friday after work and gets to spend some time with her mates or cousins while she’s up that way. I have the evening to myself to get some drumming done, or get the hang of the harmonica, or just lounge around in my pants, which seems to be becoming an increasingly enjoyable pastime as I get older.

RC 29-1-20

Sack Me or Kill Me, please

I’ve been sent the schedule for our ‘Uninspiring Tour of Pointlessness’ or whatever it’s being called this year. Seven different area sub-managers visiting three sites in other areas from any of their own, to Spread The Word or Share Ideas or Steal Merchandise or some mundane shite or other.

I can’t believe someone is being paid within our company to put this load of crap together – planning itinerarys, booking lunches, co-ordinating calendars, etc – but maybe that’s a position I should be aspiring to reach. I have no interest in any Area Management promotions, but the thought of having my weird-shaped arse on a spinny chair, arranging a series of wasteful site visits and NOT having to handle orders and staff rotas and all the other balls-and-bollocks that pollute my daily life, is a very attractive thought indeed.

RC 28-1-20

1740 GMT

Two! Four! Six! Eight!

I just felt I should acknowledge that my last blog was posting number 2468, and as I understand it, there is a popular chant – used in sporting arenas and indeed under certain political conditions – that uses the shouted phrase “2-4-6-8…” followed by something that rhymes with “8”. Such as:

2 – 4 – 6- 8

Who do we appreciate?

TEACHERS!!

I spent all day yesterday trying to think of one appropriate to myself and my writings, but have so far drawn a blank.

Maybe my lack of inspiration can be my inspiration?

How about this:

2 – 4 – 6 – 8

Rory has to hesitate…

Yeah, that’ll do.

RC 28-1-20

Last Sunday of the Month

Had quite a pleasant day today. After the madness of having a menagerie round last weekend, it was good to just chill out at home as a family, enjoy a good roast and listen to some good tunes. Philippa is currently enamoured with ‘Flavour Of The Month’ Lewis Capaldi, so while she sang along to him in the kitchen I stuck my headphones in and enjoyed some Led Zeppelin. It was my turn to cook the big meal, so we had some very nice smoked gammon with the usual spread of roast veggies. I can’t believe how late in life I discovered the joys of roast gammon. I’d always seen it as something you had dry with chips, an egg and some pineapple. The first time I encountered it at a carvery and tried it as a roast meat with gravy I nearly collapsed with uncertainty, then nearly collapsed again with joy at the tasting. It’s wonderful. Especially if you align it with some cauliflower cheese, which I always do.

This joint was quite a salty one though, so we’ve both been drinking like we’ve got diabetes.

In other news - I’ve enjoyed watching the World Bowls Championships this weekend. Not exactly riveting viewing, but a nice gentle Winter watch while I wait for the Super Bowl next Sunday. The tournament takes place less than an hours’ drive from where we live, so we’re talking about going to watch it next year.

Mathew will be 2 by then!

Jesus…

RC 26-1-20

Snifflier than a pig seeking truffles

I’m sneezing and sniffy and snotty again. Is it the same cold that has resurfaced for a third time? Or have I picked up yet another virus from an unwell customer? I haven’t been to China, nor been dealing with Chinese suppliers, nor been in contact (to the best of my knowledge) with anyone who has recently been to China, so I don’t think it’s Chinese Goat Flu (or whatever they’ve christened this thing that the tabloids are making people panic about at the moment). It’s pissing me off, though. I can’t seem to go a calendar month without coughing half my lungs up or producing more mucus than a hippo with flu. I eat well, I take a few extra vitamins, I drink plenty of water; I do everything that the experts tell us are the right things to do, and still I’ve spent most of this Winter feeling shitty.

Next year I’m gonna go from one extreme to the other - have a barbecue every day and take loads of heroin – see if that keeps the colds at bay.

On a positive note – 11 months today will be Christmas Day.

RC 25-1-20

Misspoken?

I have a feeling that, if I ever become famous in some stupid way, yesterday’s blog will be the one that comes back to bite me. The content will be taken out of context and dragged into the tabloids and loads of people who DID know someone who committed suicide on Monday will be upset and horrified and my career will be over.

Ah, well…

RC 24-1-20

So this is what its like to be 36

Life feels a bit boring and depressing the week after your birthday. Thank God I have Mathew to lift me from the gloom. His tiny fingers gripping mine and his gurgling smile when he has wind after a feed are the best antidepressants on Earth.

I did take it as a bit of a personal attack when my big day was classified as ‘Blue Monday’. As they tell us every year (because they are lazy and just keep recycling the same old stories) the third Monday in January is the worst day of the year for suicides, calls to The Samaritans, and general low mood. I remember reading a report once that said – overwhelmingly – the most likely day for someone to kill themselves is always on their birthday. I was special and lucky this year because the other most likely day for everyone to top themselves was on MY birthday. So – if you know someone who jumped off a cliff three days ago, I’m sorry for your loss, but I’m honoured it happened when it did. And it cheers me to know that, every year on my birthday, you will be marking the occasion in your own morose way.

Jeez, I’m in a weird mood today.

RC 23-1-20

Bending and quacking

I’ve spent most of this evening trying to get a recognisable note or two out of a harmonica. This is because, in the middle of my in-house birthday fun on Sunday, Philippa pointed out that I hadn’t yet used my main Christmas present from her. I told her musical genius can’t be rushed, and I was too busy to give over time in January to learning a new instrument. She called me ungrateful and said she wished she had bought me socks.  The joys of married life, there.

It should be an easy thing to get the hang of. I have a very simple blues harmonica, which only has 10 notes. I also have an online course that Philippa signed me up to, where I can ‘watch and follow’. The guy who recorded the videos claims you can ‘get good quick’ by only practicing for 10 minutes at a time, 3 or 4 times a week. I fear I may be his biggest challenge yet, but I’m determined to give it a go.

RC 21-1-20

Happy Birthday To Me

What a lovely day it’s been. A lovely few days, if I’m honest. Lots of birthday cheer, and an enjoyable time had without going ridiculously over-the-top. Memories made, rather than memory cells wiped. Enjoying what was happening, rather than striving to make something different happen. Ignoring the old impulse to ‘make it larger than last year’ and just getting on with things that I like.

Man, have I ever sounded more middle-aged?

RC 20-1-20

THE GOOD NEWS!!

Sophie is coming over tomorrow afternoon, staying the night, and spending all day Sunday with us!

Hannah and Nathan are coming over on Sunday afternoon (once church is churched) and staying into the evening!

Our friends from The Unofficial and Unnamed Beach Party Club have all said they’ll pop in for a drink at some point!

Ted and Beryl aren’t up for the journey, but being Ted and Beryl, they’ve invited us over to theirs NEXT Sunday so I can have a birthday celebration with THEIR family!

Bloody Marvellous; and becoming more so every day.

RC 17-1-20

Insipid unhappiness

Just when I think I may know what is going on in the world of Filling Station Sub-Division Management I get sideswiped by a missive from Head Office.  They’ve always been up-there-with-the-best-of-them when it comes to instigating new policies for the sake of it or changing things around just to justify their own existences, but this seems particularly painful and pointless.

I won’t go into details, but I have to go to three different meetings in three different locations in three different counties next month.  There’ll be some kind of presentation, some kind of blue-sky box-splitting thought-sharing and, most importantly for Those Above Me, some kind of catering. If they put all the Man Hours and Money that gets wasted on these bloody things into a pot and focussed it instead on wages or things to improve staff morale, they might find themselves getting a more enthusiastic response.

RC 16-1-20

Headache

I still haven’t decided what to do for my birthday. Most people have given up asking now, so I may have to go with Philippa’s suggestion of an ‘Open House Party.’ Effectively, that means we just stay in all day Sunday, and send everyone who might want to see me an open invitation to pop round whenever they like.

There are pros and cons, of course:

PRO – I don’t have to dress up, or travel.

CON – We would have to provide food and drinks, and I wouldn’t have an escape route.

I think we’ll go for it, actually. The more I think about it, and type about it, and the less I over-think it, or approach it negatively, the more there is to like. Normally I’d prefer to be out somewhere, or visiting someone else, because then I can just come away if I feel awkward. But I can invite who I like, so why would I end up feeling awkward? Plus -for any of you who are NOT parents of a young child – taking them out somewhere is like planning an invasion of a small country. You need clothing, nappies, bottles, toys, prams and a vehicle strengthened by Army engineers that can cope with carrying it all. If you book a table somewhere for 1pm, you have to start getting ready at 9am to stand any chance of making it on time. I love him to bits but taking him out-and -about is a logistical nightmare, especially in January when you need waterproofs, extra layers and all other manner of ‘Just In Case’ bits-and-bobbins.

With this plan, he can have free roaming around his own home, and we can take him off for a lie-down if he needs it (or, indeed, if I need an excuse for a bit of quiet time away from everyone).

And the other BIG Pro: We can go shopping on Saturday, and I can pick loads of fun buffet food to prepare for Sunday. If we went out for a meal, I could only pick a few things to eat; this way I can get WHATEVER I WANT.

AND – we can have lots of leftovers for Monday, which is my birthday itself.

Marvellous.

I’m off to design an e-invite.

RC 15-1-20

Bible Info Update

Stuff my research has taught me so far (that I didn’t know before):

There are very strong arguments to suggest that Jesus was not born in Bethlehem, nor in Nazareth.

Our dating of BC and AD (or CE and BCE these days…) to align the global calendar with the birth of Christ is based on a Judaen census ordered by King Herod. Trouble is, there was more than one King Herod, and we’re not sure which one ordered this particular census, or when, so Jesus may have been born as early as 8 BC! (In which case – have a good 2028 everyone!)

Jesus may have had a brother called Joses.

I’m loving this stuff, and I’ve only looked into a couple of debates about Jesus being born. I still have another 1200 pages of The Bible to get into yet!!

RC 14-1-20

Quick Turnaround

I watched George Monbiot’s interesting documentary last week about how farm animals have wrecked the British countryside. I liked it because it wasn’t an alarmist rant about huge issues that feel beyond our control – ‘global warming’, ‘climate change’, ‘species meltdown’, ‘catastrophic tipping point’ – but a from-the-ground look at the way we produce meat in this country and what the environmental impact has been. I’ve always prided myself on being well aware of what I put in my mouth, and what animal care (or suffering) has been involved in it reaching my plate, but it opened my eyes considerably and taught me some things I was unaware of, or subconsciously ignoring. So much so that I found myself, for possibly the first time ever, seriously taking a look at the food choices I make and wondering whether to re-think my diet.  I am, after all, very vocal about Man’s impact on the planet and his lack of shit-giving when it comes to the consequences of our actions, and if what I eat is at odds with what I preach, then how can I expect to be considered anything other than hypocritical?  It’s bad enough working, indirectly, for oil companies, I can’t be blotting my resume with a huge consumption of meat as well.

So, over a couple of days, I started looking into plant-based diets and how I might be able to instigate a gradual change to our homelife while still providing us with everything we need (especially Mathew) and without suffering horrendous changes to bowel movements.

And then, yesterday, Philippa cooked a quite sumptuous joint of topside, and I ploughed through it like a starved wolf ploughs through roadkill. And today I am ploughing through the leftovers like an expensive, heavy tractor ploughs through over-fertilised soil.

I am shameless.

But – in my defence – I feel it is suitable payback to Channel 4, who aired the programme, but put it on stupidly late, and also gave it the title “APOCALYPSE COW” which pisses me off because:
A) It’s not funny

B) It’s just Channel 4, yet again, trying to sound cleverer than they are, and

C) It was used as a title for a Simpsons episode OVER 10 YEARS AGO.

I have to say, yet again, my choice of blog title today is a cracking idea for a band name.

RC 13-1-20

Less about religion, more about me

Just over a week until my birthday weekend. That seems insane, but I like it. The sooner we can get this year over and done with and steam towards another excellent family December, the better.

I do worry that I may be cramming too much into one month of the year. Wedding anniversary, relationship anniversary, birth of son, Christmas… It’s not entirely unplausible that we may reach a point where we have something to celebrate on every single day of the month. But that sounds fine to me. The Yuletide season gets better every single year, and the thought of having more reasons to party on top of the ones we already have is exciting. But then I have to consider - is it better to have one long, wild blow-out after 11 months of normality, or to spread out the festivities so you never go more than 8 or 9 weeks without meaningful fun?

That debate is for another time, however, the important topic today is ‘How does one spend one’s 36^th birthday?’ The day itself is a Monday, and I’ve already booked it off work, so we’ll probably take the wee man to a pool somewhere and then have a nice indulgent lunch overlooking the sea. We’ve had offers of places for Mathew to stay that weekend, so we can have a break away together, but Philippa isn’t keen. She’s already going to be spending lots of time away from the offspring now she’s back at work, so the thought of handing him over for another couple of days isn’t nice for her, and I can understand that.

Personally, I’d love another Chesworth family get-together, but it depends on the availability of my sisters. Nathan, being churchy, can’t be away from his flock all day Sunday so we may have to plot something in for the Saturday only. Mind you, he can’t cut loose that night and then turn up in God’s house hungover, can he? And it also means hoping that Sophie’s shifts coincide with the rest of us. Blimey, modern life is complicated. Back in ‘the old days’ we’d all have worked the same hours and lived closer to each other and this would have been a piece of piss. It also might have helped if we’d discussed this at Christmas when we were all together, but it’s too late now.

I think it should have been ‘implausible’, by the way, but I like my word better.

(Or should that have been ‘I like my word more’???)

RC 9-1-20

Unexpected interest

I seem to have accidentally fallen into a new hobby/obsession/fanaticism. Any of you who feels you know me quite well may find yourselves shocked by this, but I can’t get enough of Bible history!

It’s all Nathan’s fault. We were having a chat on Christmas Day, covering all sorts of seasonal topics like ‘Christian Hijacking of Saturnalia’ and ‘Grains of Truth Hidden Within Spiritual Superstitions’ (those were my phrases, not his). I probably shouldn’t be surprised by this, bearing in mind he’s a vicar, but he really knows his stuff. He was telling me all about the disagreements within the Gospels, and how John is a bit of a ‘wild child’ of the group (again – my words, not Nathans,) who embellished stuff and edited it and mixed it around and filled in some gaps. I thought EVERY Christian person took every word in The Bible as being a direct word from God, but he explained to me that an important part of his training was learning to accept that the books of ‘The Good Book’ were written by individual humans – who may or may not have made mistakes, or had their own agendas – and that studying the differences as well as the messages within was crucial to being able to produce decent sermons and to lead your congregation effectively. The more questions I asked, the more information he gave me, and the more I became fascinated. At one time, I would have viewed the Bible as a glorified packet of toilet paper, written as a way of massaging a couple of egos and controlling everyone else, but now I’ve started to see it as an interesting puzzle and an incredibly important historical document. It may not tell The Life Of Jesus and The Rules Of God (as I used to think) but it may tell us an incredible lot about the birth of religion and how it shaped human development two thousand years ago.

So - I’ve become a bit obsessed with it.

I want to know WHO wrote WHAT and WHEN, and what their motivations may have been. I want to know why certain words were chosen, whether they were misinterpreted when translated, and how much of it stands up to investigation.

Fortunately, or unfortunately depending on how you look at it, there is a whole wealth of material available, written by all sorts of people and covering all sorts of specialities and viewpoints. I just put ‘Bible History’ as a search topic within the Books section of Amazon and it tells me there are over 40,000 titles. I just put ‘Bible study’ into Google and it came up with over 380 million results!

I’m not saying I’m going to read it all, but I’m going to give it a damn good go.

RC 8-1-20

Blue Tuesday (or 'Bluesday'?)

Already 2 weeks since Christmas Eve/our anniversary.

That means it’s only another 50 weeks until it comes round again…

Is it obvious that I’m already bored with normal life and wishing it was still mid-December?

Philippa bought me a harmonica as a present this year (I mean – last year) but I haven’t given it a go yet. It came with a link to some free online lessons, so maybe I’ll start wailing away at work, and hope I can convince people that the sound emanating from my office when I have the door closed is NOT me playing an instrument, but my computer breaking down.

I asked her why she got it for me and she said ‘I thought you might like to apply your understanding of music to something other than drumming’ which is sweet, but of course I took it to mean ‘I’m sick of hearing you bash those bloody things in the garage and I’m trying to persuade you to try something more bearable.’

Blue Tuesday, by the way, is yet another fantastic name for a band.

RC 7-1-20

Nicest Nights

I watched all four NFL wild card games this weekend. ALL FOUR! Never done that before, but hope I get a chance to do it again. It was fun and fantastic, and I was able to put a huge dent in the leftover Christmas snacks while I was viewing. They were on at weird times in the UK too, so I have to say a big Thank You to Philippa for letting me sit up half the night into Sunday, then spend most of yesterday evening away from the family with my head locked on the telly. The bad news for her is that there are four games again next weekend (but I’ve promised she’ll have my full attention in February).

RC 6-1-20

Darkest Days

A few random thoughts, as the 12^th Day of Christmas looms large and threatens to suck me into a pit of post-Yule depression:

I don’t like January. If it didn’t contain my birthday, and the NFL play-offs, I’d probably be on a suicide watchlist every year at this time.

This is the 13^th Calendar year I have blogged in! That’s more than A THIRD OF MY LIFE!!!

Last year went well, blogwise, but disappointing December efforts blocked a chance of a new record number of postings.  Can I be bothered to set myself a challenge for this year? Can I be bothered to keep posting at all???

Mathew is one now, so I guess a corner has been turned – we will no longer refer to him as being x-months-old.  Bless him.

My life would feel better if we could see a few days of sunshine. My mood lifts, and the world looks nicer when it’s under blue skies and bathed in proper daylight. I think I’m right in saying that we’ve only seen the Sun on three days in the last 50.

Time continues to fly by quicker and quicker. Paddling my feet in a warm sea feels like it happened a week ago; in reality it was back in August. So – maybe it won’t be too long before I’m cycling in British Summer Time and basking in the glow of Spring.

We can hope…

RC 5-1-20

2020, then...

Happy New Year. May it bring you a 12-month period of spiritual prosperity, intellectual growth and family togetherness. In reality, of course, a change in the numbers on the calendar has no actual effect on us whatsoever, but it’s nice to pass on good wishes, I guess.

Philippa goes back to work this week, after a year of maternity leave. She’s very nervous, but also looking forward to a bit of ‘real life’ again. She works at a GP surgery, of course, so unfortunately, she won’t be getting a soft landing; it’ll be full-on from the word Go. One of the senior partners was a bit pissed off last year when she fell pregnant so soon after they hired her, but everyone else has been really supportive throughout and they seem genuinely delighted that she’s going back.

I shall talk to you sometime about the joys of finding childcare provisions, and the horrible guilt you feel when you convince yourself you’re putting work stuff before your child by committing them to spending time with a third party. It’s been worse for Philippa, obviously, and I know she’ll find it tough at first, but I also know it’s the right decision – for her, as much as for our family as a whole – and I know she’ll get through it and get used to it and flourish again.

She is very insistent that I don’t reveal too much about her thoughts and feelings in this blog, so I’ll leave that one there and just wish you a very pleasant day, and a very pleasant 2020.

RC 4-1-20