fizzling out

I realised today that my 'cold' didn't really develop into anything bothersome; it just kind of hung around for a couple of days and then disappeared. Almost like a brief burst of hay fever. Maybe that's what it was - a minor allergic reaction to some bush or other that had got confused by the warm weather and started behaving like its Spring.
On a similar note - something that has been troubling me in the past couple of months - did anyone actually see any wasps this Summer? Normally our sites are plagued by the bloody things from mid-August onwards, but this year we've barely seen a dozen. I mean, I hate the bloody things and I'm glad they didn't turn up, but it's quite an alarming fall in population if there weren't enough around to be noticed. Last year I was putting up wasp traps and calling out pest control every week; this year there's not been one murmur caused by the wing of an insect. Add to that the fact that we have flowers re-blooming now that should only appear in April and it looks like things might be changing quicker than even I had realised.
But anyway - enough of such depressing things. I am starting to acknowledge that we have a little holiday of our own on the way, and I am starting to get excited about it. Philippa already has a list of things we need to remember to take, and a separate list reminding her where the first list is in case she misplaces it. Bless her, I wish I could show her that holidays are supposed to be about stress relief and relaxation, and that this can start even before you've left the house, but if she isn't fretting about what we need to take with us then she isn't comfortable, so I'll just let her get on with it (and then I'll probably pack my stuff the morning before we leave...).

RC 25-10-24

A week today is Trick or Treat Day...

We're about to get very, very busy at work again. Hallowe'en Half-Term Holidays seem to be quite the thing these days, and our occupancy rate has gone from 'barely noticeable' to 'almost overwhelming'. I am scurrying about getting things prepped for our activities and ordering extra decorations as the ones we have seem unlikely to last more than 12 hours before looking like they'll disintegrate. I am double-checking risk assessments and protocols and reconfirming with all staff and visiting entertainers. I normally trust people and relax, but I always feel extra pressure at this time of year as it was me that pushed Gavin to do so much more than he used to. So it feels like a Rory Project that is firmly on Rory's shoulders and will be Rory's fault if it all goes screwy. But the past few years have gone absolutely brilliantly and I really don't need to worry unnecessarily. But I will, coz that's the kind of guy I am. Which is probably why it always goes well - I overplan it to the point of exhaustion...

RC 24-10-24

Cheating the Climate

There is something so pleasant about walking around without a jacket in the second half of October. I suppose it's because I still remember a time when the tenth month was part of Winter, whereas these days it seems to be the main participant in Autumn. We've had some gorgeous sunsets this week, resplendent with colours that I'm not used to seeing in Suffolk skies. Almost everyone I know has been posting pictures of 'the Northern Lights as seen from Norfolk' (which just look like a normal night-time picture with a bit of green and red added. I could get the same images by messing up the colour balance settings on my old camera). Anyway, the point I guess I am trying to make is that it all feels rather unseasonal at the moment and I guess that is all evidence of our effect on the planet. It's not something to worry about anymore, it's something to be dealt with. And in a way, I am enjoying it! I hate Winter, and the fact that we are experiencing weather that is very much un-Wintry is absolutely fine with me, even if it's indicative of some serious underlying planetary concerns and a sign of some serious issues ahead. Today it is mild, and that'll do for me.

RC 23-10-24

Am I even close to sanity anymore?

As one thing that I worry about leaves my tiny brainspace, another seems to appear in its place to vex me and to trouble me in my overnight waking weirdnesses.
My car seems to be making odd noises again, and also seems to be determined to pull me over to the left side of the road and force me into a hedge or two. If I let go of the steering wheel at anything north of twenty miles per hour it heads for the kerb quicker than a drunk teenager on a blackout. And I know that, legally speaking, I shouldn't let go of the steering wheel while driving, but how else am I supposed to test my theory that my car is possessed? Because that, dear reader, is the conclusion I have come to. There is not a minor mechanical fault or a need to pump up the tyres - I am actually in the unfortunate position of being in possession of a vehicle that is in the throes of its own possession. Beelzebub lurks beneath my bonnet. Satan is in my spark plugs. The Devil inhabits my distributor cap. I am probably two weeks away from being found upside down in a tree, still held in place by my seatbelt, after ploughing through a group of pensioners at a bus stop. And it won't be ME that was in the driving seat, you understand. It will have been HIM - The Dark Lord; Lucifer; Old Nick. Send me an Exorcist, quick, and have him pick up a pizza on the way. I'm peckish. Encountering evil makes me hungry...

RC 22-10-24

Cold Quiz Answers (and an answer)

Okay... the first four were genuine. The last four I invented...

In others news, my Irish correspondents have been in touch and it looks very, very likely that the Chesworths will be venturing across the Irish Sea to The Old Country next Summer!!!

RC 21-20-24

God, here we go again...

I think a cold is imminent in the body of your erstwhile blog host. I arrived home last night with a slightly burning throat and I have woken up with a bit of a sniffle, and while changing The Nappy of The Rian this morning I sneezed a succession of sneezes that startled my son into tears and left my nose feeling like it had been blown three yards away from my face.
If I am correct in my assumptions, then I will very shortly enter into a frame of mind where I am REALLY pissed off. I REALLY do not want a cold. I find them irritating in the extreme (see many previous entries for evidence), and the first cold of the year is always an indicator of the onset of Winter, which I am REALLY not ready for. So, in an effort to combat the inevitable, I am drinking hot water with honey and lemon, swallowing echinacea tablets like they're TicTacs and looking online for every and all available old-school remedies to hold off a virus. They are numerous, and baffling and amusing in equal measures. So let's do a little quiz, as both my sons are asleep and the rain is slamming against the windowpanes:
I will list 8 unusual ways to treat the common cold. Half of those will be genuine (either from present day or historical times past) and the other half I have completely invented, so are not to be tried under any circumstances. Your job is to ascertain which is which. I shall furnish you with the answers tomorrow....

Go to sleep wearing cold, wet socks.
Go to sleep with dirty socks wrapped around your neck.
Crush garlic into a glass of hot milk and drink it.
Mix linseed, raisins, liquorice and rum.
Mix ginger, brandy, goats milk and nettles.
Hug a stranger (to pass the pain to them).
Walk backwards through a hedge while holding your breath.
Lick the wings of a butterfly.

RC 20-10-24

future evidence of an imminent psychotic episode, perhaps...

I am feeling incredibly reflective and philosophical today. I'm not sure why. Maybe it's tiredness. Maybe it's because I've been re-reading some of those Biblical Studies books that I bought earlier this year. Maybe it's my age.
My main subject of reflection has been parenthood and how it has changed me as a person. I am unrecognisable from the human being that existed before Mathew was born. I am not even the same guy that I was two years ago. Becoming a dad simply alters you; and each subsequent child seems to bring about a more monumental change. I wonder what I would be like if I was to father six or seven offspring?
It causes a bit of a dilemma within me, too, when I apply this possibility to other people. There are, as I'm sure I've mentioned before, in my opinion, far too many of us clogging up this planet. It's a great unspoken problem that is not allowed to be faced and controlled. There are thousands of articles about 'How Are We Going To Feed 10 Billion People?' but very few along the lines of 'Maybe We Shouldn't Let The Population Keep Growing?'. Difficult topic, I know, but surely controlling the numbers through prevention is better than dealing with the aftermath of unfettered procreation?
Anyway, my dilemma comes about because of this - I simultaneously believe that parenthood makes people better, and therefore maybe everyone should be forced to experience it as soon as possible, while also believing that the best thing for the planet and our future is to limit the number of pregnancies. Having more Humans is not a thing to be excited about, and we can, and probably should, avoid it. Sorry if that makes you uncomfortable, but it is the reason I have determined that our family will stop at the number it is now - four of us.
Do I have much evidence to back up my lunatic suppositions? Only things I've seen with my own eyes - people who are parents are less selfish, more caring generally, more forward-planning, and more open to ideas that are better for the SOCIETAL WHOLE rather than the INDIVIDUAL. They think long-term benefits; not short-term gains. The are, simply put, more decent. Better. Because, as I said at the start of this worrying rant of a posting - parenthood changes you, and the changes are universally positive.
They have been for me, anyway.

RC 19-10-24

Reliability is extinct

The plumber called and cancelled because 'an elderly couple in Wacton have an emergency'. So I'm guessing our particular problem didn't sound particularly worrisome.
I pointed out that we were quite concerned and he said, 'you can always turn your water off at the stopcock.' I pointed out that we had two young children who need to wash and drink and he said 'you can always fill up some saucepans before you do it'. I pointed out that today was convenient for a visit because Philippa was at home all day and he said 'you can always call someone else but it'll be a same-day call-out and that'll be pricey'.
I guess plumbers are trained to have an answer for everything if they have an opportunity to earn more elsewhere. So he's going to call round later if his other job goes well, and if not we'll have to wait until Monday.

RC 17-10-24

grown-up stuff (that I hate)

After yesterday's pointless posting, I thought I would make more of an effort today and write something worthwhile. That's my intention, anyway, but whether or not The Mind of Rory has the ability to fulfil that rather ambitious desire remains to be seen.
We're having issues with our plumbing at home, so maybe I can tell you about that. I don't know whether it's because we've started using the heating, so there's that weird 'colder-outside/warmer-in' thing happening which always makes your house do weird things and make weird noises. But I keep hearing a bit of a dripping after someone has used the shower, and it ain't just leftover water in the shower head. I do wonder whether I can blame the builders that were working on our neighbour's property recently, but I'm not sure that will be accurate. Mind you, the vibrations rattling through our house the day they were remodelling the garage were strong enough to unsettle a solid stone hippo from a plinth, so maybe some damage was done that is only just now manifesting. Either way, I have decided not to waste my frail mental faculties fretting about it so I've booked a plumber to come and have a look/listen tomorrow and we'll see what he sees and take it from there.
Elsewhere, Ted and Beryl's son Alan contacted me this week to share his 'wonderful news'. He took a chance on an outsider at some darts event on Sunday, and managed to back the winner at odds of 200-to-1. This was a player, apparently, who had never reached the later stages of any previous tournaments, and yet somehow tore through the field, and upset the World Number 1 in the final. I know all this because Alan went into great details about it when he spoke to me. Because, for some reason, having not contacted me for months, he felt the urge to give me a call and prattle on for ages about a flukey gambling win he had landed on.
Men, huh?

RC 16-10-24

future album?

I thought I would just share with you a few ideas I have for cracking song titles.
If I ever get round to learning an instrument properly and trying my hand at songwriting, these will be a starting point. But in the meantime I think they make for a pretty good list on an album cover. (and for younger readers who feel lost - an 'album' was a physical thing you could hold and then play to have access to a collection of songs put together by an artist and a producer. Think of a playlist, but one full of unique songs that the creators have placed in a certain order for you, not one of those randomised, algorithm-driven shitstorms that get thrown at you by apps like Spotify).
So...

The Impossible Shadow
A Dream of December
Tamara
Dawson's Daughter
Never Again
Ballad of William and Sara
Lament
Another Time
I Should Never Fall In Love With My Reflection
The Truth

RC 15-10-24

deep wounds

Those 'depressing reminiscences' I mentioned last night seem to have made their way into my conscience on several occasions today, so I thought I would do some self-therapy and write them out here in an attempt to get them out of my head. I don't like polluting this blogsite with comments about my mother, but sometimes the painful past can bubble up into my daily life and annoy me, and I like to be an honest online host, and share with you the truth about how I am feeling, so here we are. A day of gut-punching horrible moments when the behaviour and attitude of my matriarch in my youth surfaced from their hiding place in my subconscious and affected me rather unpleasantly.
There was a spell; a quite lengthy spell, as I remember it; where Sophie would have to come in from school and sort out tea for both Hannah and I. Mum would have 'popped out' to one of her 'social gatherings' and then would have forgotten us, or where she lived, or both. She would either crash through the door sometime after dark, turn up with (on a 'good' day) a couple of fellow drunks or (on the days we really hated) some terrible example of maleness that she had latched onto for some physical company, or even get brought home by the police after losing control and threatening to attack whichever poor barkeep had refused to serve her any more drink. That stuff started as an occasional mishap but then became an alarmingly regular pattern that I think went on for about six months. Then she had some kind of remorseful awakening and toned it down to 'be a proper mum' again. There were brief feelings of relief for me and my siblings, but sadly mum's interpretation of what being 'a proper mum' should entail were a long way away from what young children really required. And in a terrible way, the terrible behaviour would be easier to deal with than the 'nice' stuff, because at least we knew where we stood with her, and what to expect on a daily basis. When she was trying to make an effort, she was paying us more attention and wanting something in return, and we were never able to get it right. Sit beside her for a cuddle and she'd accuse us of being needy.
Make her a cup of tea and she'd accuse us of trying to poison her. If we tried to force down the undercooked sausages she had cackhandedly cooked at an inappropriate time she would lose it and cry an apology, or angrily tell us we were patronising her. And I'm sorry if that last sentence or two didn't make sense, but when I start writing about her it takes me right back there and I lose all ability to think straight.
So I'll leave it there for now.

RC 14-10-24

Achey

I am SO tired tonight. I don't know why. Just one of those evenings I guess, where things have caught up with me, and I'm aware that I have to go back to work tomorrow, and the mental fatigue and lack of enthusiasm have combined to make me feel weary. It probably didn't help that I drank two-thirds of a bottle of wine last night. I really cannot take the aftermath of alcoholic indulgence anymore. I would say that parenthood is a bit of a blocker on alcoholism - as having to take care of young children doesn't really lend itself to a heavy intake of booze - but my mum well and truly disproved that statement. I don't think she went a day without drink during any of her three pregnancies, and I'm not sure I can remember a time of abstinence in any of the years I knew her before we parted ways.
Anyway, let's not disappear down that particular topic of depressing reminiscences; let me instead say that I am sensibly dealing with my overtiredness by sitting up to watch the NFL on Sky.

RC 13-10-24

Thinking after drinking...

Just a quick thought that has been bugging me all day (and which I wouldn't probably mention if I hadn't had a few glasses of red wine this evening...)

When did it become socially acceptable for people to walk along pushing their dogs in prams?

RC 12-10-24

Watchfodder

Now the Autumn nights are kicking Summer's memories into touch, I've started to get excited about watching films again. As I can't cycle, or walk, or swim after work (unless I hang around onsite to use the facilities there) I'm thinking about spending my evenings indulging in movies. With many months ahead before it's light after tea again, I figure I can plough through a fair number of silver-screen offerings before the joys of Spring finally wander round again to say hello. I can rewatch some old favourites, catch up on some new releases I missed while working, and maybe even uncover some gems that have passed me by in recent years.
That's the plan, anyway. Whether children, marriage, distraction and employment will allow it to happen remains to be seen.
On a similar theme - one thing that seems to have improved my relationship with Philippa in the past couple of months has been my ability to just sit beside her on the sofa while she watches something I'm not interested in. I don't understand why it means so much to her, but it does, and it's a simple, painless gesture that has had startlingly meaningful results.

RC 9-10-24

Someone always has it worse...

I may moan sometimes about our weather, but I'm pleased we don't have it as bad as some countries. We have an American couple staying with us this week, and although they've been UK residents for nearly 20 years, their families are still based back in the US, with most of them living in Florida. Unfortunately, one of their offspring was caught right in the path of Hurricane Helene, and they've barely had time to breathe and clear up the mess before being told there's another Hurricane due to hit them tomorrow! No wonder the couple are finding it hard to switch off and relax. I've offered them the use of my office if they need to make emergency contact or monitor events as they unfold. I know most people have data and roaming and all that malarkey, but these are quite an elderly couple, and the broadband in my office is excellent. My children may be little, but I can understand how horrible it would be to be worried about them and not be able to protect them myself. And I can't imagine that changes even when your kids are in their thirties.

RC 8-10-24

Trick or Treat; and Tricked?

This week is full-on Hallowe'en planning for me. Bearing in mind how little effort was made during the October half-term when I started here, it's quite impressive to think about how much we do now. Makes me rather proud of the impact I have had and the differences I have instigated. Makes me a little annoyed at myself too, as I have to do most of the work to make sure it all happens! But hey - it's good to be busy. I mean, what on Earth would I do with myself if I wasn't doing this for the next few weeks? It's not as if I could do with a rest after another exhausting Summer...

Philippa is now getting very excited about our holiday, which is not something I can think about yet; coming, as it does, the other side of the 31st of October. I know I'll enjoy it when it happens, and I know I will be more enthusiastic as it approaches, but right now it feels like a long way off and not something I can give too much mental attention to.
We're still waiting to hear back from my Irish colleagues about whether June next year is a good time for us to go and visit. My wife is worried that their offer was just them being polite, and now we've actually asked they're going to blank us and it won't ever happen. But I still have faith. They did not give me the impression that they were bullshitters and I don't think they would have mentioned it if it wasn't a genuine offer. I think Philippa is just being edgy because she wants it to happen so much.
Again though, it's a loooonnnggg way off and not something I can allow myself to worry about at the moment.
I will give them a prod though, if they haven't messaged by Friday...

RC 7-10-24

thoughts on the NFL London game...

Our National Anthem is awful, and when you hear it played after a decent one, it makes it sound even worse. Hearing "God Save The King" after "The Star-Spangled Banner" is like hearing a Little Mix album after "Dark Side of the Moon".

Every year... EVERY year... I start watching a televised game being played in my own country and think "Why the Hell aren't I there?" Next year... NEXT year... I MUST make sure I get tickets.

I f**king hate the colour purple, but man those Minnesota Vikings uniforms are sexy.

It really would be interesting to see these players when they're in their 60s, trying to climb stairs...

The last two minutes of the first half really showed how unpredictable, and how much fun, this game is. A scenario was building where it could easily have been 27-0 to the Vikings, and yet we reached half-time with a score of 17-7.

Some people hide their age well, but Aaron Rodgers is a 40-year-old trying to play elite sport who looks like a 40-year-old man trying to play elite sport.

I would genuinely rather have my kidneys pulled out through my ears than have to listen to 'Sweet Caroline' ever again. Even once would be too many.

It's only when you watch one of these games live, in real time, that you remember just how bloody long these games can be...

Osi Umenyiora should record some fairy tales so that parents could play them to their children at bedtime. His voice is so soothing; so lovely...

I actually think Minnesota could have put the game to bed much sooner, but they wanted to keep it interesting for the watching UK public.

I MUST get tickets for one of next year's games. Must, must; MUST.

RC 6-10-24
1935 BST

The Timing is Perfect

Philippa is at a women-with-their-children-without-any-men gathering, and there happens to be an NFL game live on ITV this afternoon. I mean, I couldn't have scheduled this any better....

RC 6-10-24

October already???

Yeah, I'm bemused by the fact that another month has passed. I suppose it's more pronounced for me too, as I'm already locked into planning and pre-production for our half-term affairs at the end of the month.
Let's not dwell on that though. It IS October, and I can't change that, as much as I would dearly love to.
So let's discuss the fact that I have come up with an amazing name for a band: THE IRASCIBLE TURDS.

RC 2-10-24