A Story in Haiku

A premature birth

Mum and dad at hospital

pray for miracles

A wonderful nurse

noticing a new symptom

calls a specialist

An expert arrives

New drugs are administered

Fever is reduced

Rapid improvements

Rash disappears; eyes open

Joy is unconfined

Staff hailed as heroes

Leading to this conclusion:

“Save the NHS”

RC 29-9-19

An Open Letter

Dear Youth of Today,

I fully support and admire your efforts to strike from school and raise your voices over the climate change issue, but as you’re the only ones who can deal with it and adapt to it, don’t you think it’s time to stop moaning at us older folk and start preparing yourselves for what’s coming? Yes, it’s our fault, but we can’t re-cork the bottle I’m afraid, no matter how much you shout at us.

If you wake up and find your house on fire, there’s no point admonishing your parents for smoking in bed, you need to be grabbing what you can and preparing for a life full of ashes.

That’s all.

Sincerely,

Rory.

RC 28-9-19

The Lonely Desperation of Lower Level Management

I sent a job advert off to our Area Manager for approval, only to be told (at 4.59pm – just before their e-mail went to Automatic Ignore For The Weekend mode) that they might not replace Martha and that her hours may have to be covered by the existing staff pool.

Should have seen that coming really.

She’s a full-time employee and she works a lot of the unsociable hours. Being single, with no children, she’s been willing and happy to do overnights at the weekends, and to be there during holidays and festivals. Last year, I seem to remember, she filled in loads of gaps in December when other employees were spending time with their families. So we’re not just losing a valued member of staff, we’re losing one who is responsible for keeping the operation running when no-one else wants to be in attendance.

And they think we don’t need to replace her.

Money-grabbing, penny-pinching toss-wits.

RC 27-9-19

Random Scribblings from A Wandering Mind

Three months today will be Boxing Day….

Is there anything harder to remove from something than it is to remove a Rice Krispie that has dried onto the side of a cereal bowl?

Why is it impossible to open a drink in the car without spilling it?

Babies, it seems, have some special hypnotic power that makes you lose track of time when you’re with them.

The people we need to keep away from power are the people that actively seek it.

RC 26-9-19

An Unexpectedly Undamaging Return to the Usual

It’s amazing what a break from the old routine can do. I was back at work today, and found it an enjoyable, challenging breeze. I had quite a few awkward things to deal with as well (by which I mean ‘awkward people’) and a week ago I would have found it difficult, depressing and downright impossible. Today I found it all manageable, satisfying and something to be proud of.

There was an e-mail sent out on Monday from Head Office – they want to convene a meeting of all the East of England employees who are in my position. They say it’s to ‘reflect on the development of this originally experimental position and to identify improvements moving forwards’ which we’re taking to mean ‘the first look at ways we can make most of you redundant’ Should be a nice lunch involved though, and I don’t really care if they keep me on or let me go, so I haven’t let it bother me too much.

I also found out that I’m losing one of my most treasured underlings. Martha is off to study nursing and aim for a career in the rapidly diminishing NHS. It’s a disappointment but I have to wish her well. Anyone who gets out of this infernal money-making-for-others world I occupy deserves some respect and support. We’re going to have a little buffet lunch for her on her last day, with the theme of a children’s party. So lots of rice-krispie cakes, carrot sticks that no-one will eat, and various types of crisp with various dips. Most of it will come from the supermarket, and I’m sure I can find a little money in the budget somewhere to pay for it all on the company. They’re obsessed with looking like they care about staff wellbeing at the moment, so I’ll put it through as ‘an activity to boost morale and mental health’ and they’ll probably sign it off.

RC 25-9-19

Rory, refreshed

We had a glorious weekend, in the end.  I had a catch-up doze Saturday afternoon, then a really good night’s sleep (aided by a bottle of £24.99 Pinot Noir) and by Sunday breakfast I felt as right as rain. We then took a nice walk along the beach, then had a late-morning swim in the on-site pool, then popped into the restaurant for an admittedly pricey, but absolutely delicious, Sunday roast. The pool was a work of wonder. Two separate sections indoors – one much shallower than the other and designed especially for young children – and a flume that took you out through a first-floor extension and into the outside pool. That was unheated, so you landed with a sharp intake of breath, but it was so warm and sunny over the weekend that it was still somehow pleasant, and my God didn’t I appreciate the warmth of the indoor pool when I ventured back inside.

All the food was delicious. I believe their head chef was poached from a rather chic eatery up in Edinburgh, so it was proper, decent restaurant fayre rather than the café-style simplicity typical of most holiday centres. £12.99 for a full English Breakfast but it was FULL – 4 rounds of toast and butter and a refillable coffee mug, alongside all the usual accoutrements. (I apologise for using a French word while describing an English meal, and actually, thinking about it, I think ‘accoutrements’ only applies to clothing or equipment, so I used it incorrectly anyway. Ah, who gives a shit…)

The caravan was super cosy and the facilities on hand for baby changing, nappy disposal, breastfeeding and the like were all superb to say the least. Sorry if I sound like I’m writing one of those self-indulgent online reviews for one of those awful ‘websites for mums’ but I was really impressed by the whole thing, and just didn’t know how else to express it, so I’m dumping it here on my blogsite. I did manage to speak to the Reception manager-on-duty when I handed the keys in, and offer my thanks and praise, and I intend to send them an e-mail too, but if you have children of any age I would heartily recommend it.

We arranged to go back a couple of times next year, as we loved it so much, and as we got a decent deal by booking while we were there instead of waiting and doing it from home.

I feel like a different man from the one who was laying awake on Friday, and Philippa looks like she’s slept for three weeks, had a full face and body massage, and generally reconnected with life in a good way. It was only a few days, but it’s done us both the world of good.

If it wasn’t for every member of staff constantly trying to pressure you into buying a static caravan and then paying them to leave it on their site, it would have been a perfect break.

RC 24-9-19

In, and Insomnia

Good morning, and greetings from “Sunny Sands Holiday and Letting Complex.” Wouldn’t you just know that the second I’m away from my normal life my insomnia would leap up and remind me he’s still around. Why my night-time-based lack-of-sleep disorder can’t stay at home while I’m on vacation is beyond me. Feels a bit unfair, really. I’m wondering whether it’s the change of routine that has set me off. I know people who say they struggle to get a poo out when they’re abroad, as the change of location seems to upset their digestive tract. Not sure why that should be so, but maybe this is something similar. I’m going to try and lay with my eyes closed, convincing myself I’m still at home in bed, and see if that works.

That didn’t work.

Maybe it’s excitement! Maybe I’m really chuffed to be on holiday, and really looking forward to spending the next few days relaxing, and it’s the anticipation and excitement that are making me unable to drift off into my slumbers. It’s like being seven on Christmas Eve.

Either way, I’ve had about forty-five minutes sleep all night, so my weekend of enjoyment is now going to be tampered by my tiredness and general grumpiness. My mind has sabotaged my chance of serenity by making me too ramped-up to switch off.

Bastard.

RC 21-9-19

A calmer wife means a calmer day

Philippa sent me off this morning with an apology, a lunch that she had lovingly prepared, and a big kiss. What a way to start the day! I think she must have realised that yesterday had gone a bit Loopyville and reached out to repair the damage. It’s all good. I love her for her madness and eccentricities as much as I love her for anything, and by God she has to put up with some weird, obsessive, off-the-wall stuff from me, so I can’t complain too much when she returns the favour occasionally.

I’m really looking forward to this holiday now. I don’t care if it’s only a few miles away, once you’re on holiday you’re on holiday. Close the caravan curtains and we could be anywhere. It would be nice to have a Winter break abroad, but time on the beach would be awkward when you’re changing nappies and trying to stop your infant from eating sand, and would we want to be dragging him through the Hell of a flight when he’s too young to understand what’s happening? No we wouldn’t. I’ve been on a plane with uncontrollable children and it’s horrific for everyone involved. You end up wanting to punch the parents in the face for displaying stupidity of such gargantuan proportions and wanting to get the kid drunk just so they can pass out and give you peace.

Anyway – there I go again, winding myself up about something that isn’t even going to happen…

Haven’t decided yet if I’ll blog while we’re away. The laptop will be in attendance but won’t need to be on. I’ve got everything in hand workwise that needed to be in hand, so no-one should need to contact me, unless it’s a real emergency, in which case they’ll phone. But that shouldn’t happen - so much of my job now is being automated or farmed off to the main Store Managers that it’s barely like a management job at all. But let’s not start down that road again, or I’ll be getting wound up and ranting again.

Holiday Ahoy!!

RC 19-9-19

Nuts

Philippa seems to have gone a bit crazy. She spent most of today packing for our holiday (which doesn’t start until Friday.)  She seems determined to cram half our possessions into cases ‘just in case we need them,’ even though we’re only going for three nights, and even though it’s only 45 minutes away, so we could easily nip home if we’ve forgotten something important. I don’t know if it’s post-pregnancy hormones, or the after-effects of being cooped up at home for nine months now, or just over-excitement manifesting as pre-packing panic, but if you walked in our living room right now you’d think we were about to move house.  Do two adults and one baby really need to take eight towels away with us? Especially when the caravan is listed as ‘fully furnished and fully equipped, with towels and bedding provided’?

I tried to prove a point by saying “I hope you’ve left room to pack my drumkit” but it didn’t really help.

RC 18-9-19

Mid-Month Blues

We watched “Green Book” last night, which might have leapt instantly into my ‘List of Top 10 PROPER Films I’ve Ever Watched.’ Really enjoyed it. Cracking music, cracking performances, and gave me lots to think about. Mostly, I’ve been thinking about other films I enjoy that have colours in the title. Bertolucci’s “Red/White/Blue” trilogy obviously leaps to mind, and I suppose film students would insist on ‘Blue Velvet’ being in there somewhere. If you want to sound knowledgeable on cinematic history you should mention ‘The Red Shoes’ from 1948. But personally, racking my brain in between other garage-based duties, I think I’ve settled on these as my favourites:

The Blues Brothers (coz it’s fun)

The Hunt for Red October (coz it’s tense)

Blue in the Face (coz it’s unusual)

On a slightly less esoteric note I see the ugly beast of oil prices has reared its head again. Every time I let myself feel optimistic about the future, the capitalist world jumps up to remind me that I am nothing but a worthless ant destined to spend my life spending money on overpriced essentials to line the pockets of an elite few.

RC 17-9-19

A few random thoughts

I’ve realised something about myself - I don’t like hearing the sound of ticking clocks. I think it reminds me that my life is disappearing rapidly on towards its inevitable conclusion. Hearing a second hand on a clock move around is like having someone in the corner of the room going “Your life is ebbing away and you’re wasting it! GET UP! GET OUT! DO SOMETHING!”

When I was at school, we had regular visits from a lay preacher who used to do a 15-minute assembly that was normally him screaming at us about fire and brimstone and God’s wrath. One Friday he did a long spiel about us being watched from the Heavens while we masturbated. A bit creepy, really, and makes God sound like a pervert when you think about it. Another time, for reasons I still don’t understand, he felt the need to lecture us on personal hygiene. I remember his words clearly – “EARS and ARSE are important. They should be cleaned every day, and yet most people choose to ignore them.” Not sure why he was obsessed with those particular body parts, but as I’ve got older, I’ve realised he’s right on both counts.

Philippa and I are taking the little man for his first little holiday this coming weekend. Just a few days in a caravan on the Suffolk coast, but it still counts. We waited til September and it was a third of the price that it would have been mid-August.  No wonder people take their kids out of school during term time.

RC 16-9-19

Sept. Haiku Collection

Summer has now gone

The chill air of Autumn bites

Winter lurks nearby

Translation tempts me

Mais je ne parle pas Francais

So – English it is

Working for others

Wasting one’s abilities

Driving oneself mad

Days getting darker?

One good thing about Autumn –

NFL is back

Born in the ocean

Torn from its home by trawlers

Eaten by Rory

Marriage is prison

Marriage is lifelong friendship

Marriage is freedom

I am a parent

That thought still seems so scary

And yet, I am glad

RC 11-9-19

Changes afoot, and a changing foot

Had an interesting conversation tonight about franchising. Not sure if it stood out to me because I rather like the idea of working for myself now, but it’s something I shall certainly look into it. Why come up with your own idea for a business when you can pay someone else to use their name and product to make a profit?

In other news, Philippa has been in to see her workmates to talk about the end of her maternity leave. She’s taking the full year off but is keen to go back in the New Year, hopefully on a part-time basis. She loves being a mum, but I think she misses having a place of work to go to, misses being part of a team, and misses seeing members of the public. She wasn’t there long before falling pregnant, and they’ve been really good about it all the way through, so I think she wants to pay them back with a few years of good service.

In other, other news, I think I need some new shoes. I have a habit of wearing clothes until they’re falling apart, but I may have taken it too far this time. The padding has worn away, there’s virtually no tread, and the laces have snapped so many times that I can’t even tie them up properly. I keep getting pain in my big toe, and around my heel, and today I finally had a good look to see what was going on. I’ve lost about three layers of skin from my heel and my big toenail has changed colour where it’s rubbing against the inside end. I bloody hate going shopping, but it’s time to invest in some footwear.

God I write exciting stuff sometimes, don’t I?

RC 10-9-19

It's all so very depressing

Those Above Me are discussing the idea of setting up a luxury car wash on the piece of land next to the garage. Funny that they’re trying to find ways to cut staffing costs but are happy to consider splashing out on setting up a new money-making facility.

I despair.

I think someone, somewhere has pointed out that there are a number of local roadside ‘Hand Washes’ – mostly run by Eastern European families – where people will happily queue up and then pass over a tenner to get their car washed and polished with ‘the personal touch’ rather than wasting money on the automated drive-thru monstrosities that we have stuck on the side of most of our garages. I’ve used ours myself, and you end up with large parts of your car that the rolling sponges haven’t touched. At least the guys in the layby get into every nook and cranny so you don’t have to finish the job yourself when you get home.

Sorry for going on a bit there – I’m really stuck in a negative mindset about my employers and every decision they make seems to send me closer and closer to a resignation letter. There must be a company somewhere that still cares about the wellbeing of their staff, and still wants to provide good customer service, rather than placing profit over EVERYTHING.

Or maybe I should find a way to earn money without being stuck inside some awful capitalist corporate money-quaffing uncaring ugly beast.

Maybe I should set up a car wash.

RC 9-9-19

Roast

Been a good day today. We went out for Sunday lunch with a couple of chums, and Mathew was very kind and slept through the whole affair. We had the usual array of employees and other customers walking past and going “ah, bless him” as he lay in his carrier peaceful and oblivious.

I’m not a big fan of carveries because I find them to be substandard when compared to a proper made-to-order roast dinner, but I have to say todays was wonderful. I always worry that the food has been prepared way in advance and then left under those heat lamps for hours, but maybe I’m just an ignorant ignoramus, because I imagine most places that do Sunday lunches prepare everything in advance and then chuck it in a microwave before serving you, so at least with a carvery you can see it being done. I had some beef (well-done to the point of being crispy in places) and a little bit of gammon, just to be polite. It was all gorgeous. I’m a big fan of gravy, and by God I may have found the best example in Suffolk today. I was so overwhelmed by it I insisted on thanking the chef personally and asked to shake his hand. He looked at me like I was a lunatic and said ‘sorry, mate, health and safety regs – I can’t shake your hand while I’m still serving.’ I felt a bit silly but Sod it. I expressed my thanks and I’m glad I did so.

This evening I went a bit crazy and decided to make pizza. Why is it that when you’ve had a really good meal you want to eat again quite soon afterwards? I find that, when I just eat something bland and functional, I can then go hours before another urge for food, but when I’ve had something delicious and delightful, even if I’ve gorged myself to the point of splitting, I’ll start getting hunger pains even though I’m still bloated.

This talk of overindulgence with edible substances has made me think about Christmas. Yeah, I know, sorry to mention it so soon - but in my line of work they start bombarding you with ideas for Xmas profits before we’ve had mid-Summer, and I do like to try and sort out December rotas well in advance, so everyone can plan their festivities.

Hell, that’s for tomorrow though – today is still the weekend.

I’m getting something to snack on.

RC 8-9-19

Rekindling

What a lazy blogger I’ve been.

It feels like ages since I’ve written anything, so just in case you’ve forgotten all about me, I thought we could start all over again by me introducing myself.

So – Hi, my name is Rory, and here are 10 things about me:

I like cheese. A lot.

I am married, and I have a 9-month old son.

I often become obsessed about obscure subjects and research them to the point of exhaustion.

Insomnia frequently plagues me.

I like to play a drumkit that I have in our garage at home.

I switch off from reality via the medium of non-violent console games.

I dislike most sports, but love following tennis and the NFL.

I have two sisters, but no other family that I’m in contact with.

My drinks of choice are red wine, sparkling water and good old-fashioned PG Tips. (not together)

I am a cinephile.

See you tomorrow.

RC 7-9-19

Barbie

I’m disappointed I didn’t get one more blog in before the end of August, but I’m proud of myself for fulfilling my challenge of limiting each title. So much so, that I might keep it going for a bit longer.

I couldn’t decide whether my one-word title today should be BBQ, barbeque or barbecue. By the lack of red underlining from my automatically-on-and-impossible-to-disconnect Spellchecker, all three are acceptable, so I planned to just go with my personal favourite (which would be the third option on the list above,) but then I changed my mind and went for the really annoying colloquialism that we seem to have taken from 1980s Australian daytime soaps.

Anyway – we went to one today. A barbecue, that is, not an Australian soap opera.

Hostess was a bit of a bimbo. It’s okay for me to say that because we were there as guests of a mutual friend we have, so we don’t really know her and will probably never see her again.

And that, my friend, is how we said Hello to September…

RC 1-9-19