More Christmas reflections

I really enjoyed watching ‘The Good Dinosaur’ – a sweet animation by Pixar, aimed at a younger audience than their other movies, which I look forward to sharing with Mathew one day.

I really enjoyed ‘The Limehouse Golem’ – a complex and engaging thriller, showing the darker side of human nature in an enthralling way. Bill Nighy, as ever, was excellently watchable.

I loved watching ‘Worzel Gummidge’ – charming, delightful, beautiful, fun.

As you can see, I’ve been watching a lot on iPlayer.

RC 30-12-19

0010 BST

Still so Christmassy

I’m extremely tired tonight, but it’s been a good day.

I worked from 7am to 1pm. It was quite quiet, and I spent most of the time eating ridiculous amounts of chocolate. Then I got home and ate ridiculous amounts of gammon and chips. Then I had a doze, then tonight I have watched a couple of movies with Philippa, drank about a third of a bottle of port, and eaten ridiculous amounts of cheese and biscuits. It’s funny how the ratio of cheese to biscuit alters as my intake of alcohol increases. It all looked very civil at first, but after topping up my glass for the third time I was doing away with the pretence of being dignified and just putting a huge chunk of stilton onto a Cornish wafer. I shall suffer terribly with indigestion later but sod it -

IT’S CHRISTMAS!!!!

(And if anyone tells you that Christmas is over now it’s two days after Boxing Day, kindly garotte them with some tinsel).

RC 28-12-19

December will be magic again

I can’t remember the last time I posted a single-figure numbers of blogs in one month, but it looks like it’s going to happen now.

(I’ve just looked it up – it was January 2011!!!)

I’ve been ridiculously busy, rather ill, then lost in the joys of a family Christmas. I make no apology for indulging myself in my own life and not taking time out to type. As you may know, quite a few anniversaries fall in the month of December, and I’ve been enjoying the shit out of all of them.

I will fill you all in on all the various bits and bobs that have gone on at some point, but I’ll probably do that in January, when the decorations have been put away and we’re all wallowing in the depression of dark evenings. That will give me time to process it all and make sense of it, and then write it out in a readable fashion. If I try to do it now it will be gibberish.

But know this – our little family get-away gathering was wonderful, so much so that we’ve booked the same accommodation for next year so we can do it all over again. Before that, I struggled with a busy work spell that would not have been busy were it not for illnesses. There was a sickness bug that tore its way through one of my garages, so I had to swap employees round and cover some shifts myself, before succumbing to the bloody thing and losing two days to vomiting and diarrhoea. Stressful stuff, but all sorted before Xmas Eve, and all done and dusted now with no long-lasting effects.

Sorry if this has been a bit rambling – it’ll take me a few days to get back into the swing of it, I guess.

Sorry too for this belated MERRY CHRISTMAS greeting, but I truly hope you are having a great time of it so far, and I hope, like me, you are not considering it ‘over’ yet and are still in full-on festive mood.

RC 27-12-19

Full of festive fun

Our house is now fully decorated. The original plan was to keep it minimal so that Mathew wouldn’t be freaked out by all the colours or in danger of getting tangled somewhere, but that plan seemed to change pretty quickly. There’s tinsel everywhere. Our ceilings have more adornments than a Kardashian’s ears. The tree is so full of sparkly shit that it’s hard to believe there’s a tree under there at all. It’s messy, overcrowded and gaudy and I fricking love it!

“A Christmas Carol” is my favourite story ever. It was written in 5 separate parts, which were published separately in a London publication. I’ve decided, on one of my compulsive whims, to do something similar, so the next five days of this blog will be five parts of a complete story.

I haven’t started writing it yet, but I’m sure it will be brilliant.

RC 16-12-19

Saturday thoughts

Well, no matter how you feel about the Election result, at least it’s done and we can finally, for the first time in what feels like years, move on with our lives. Britain has been driving with the handbrake on, and now, whether we like the direction we’re going or not, we can put our feet down and plough on forwards.

I hope you’ll stay with me for the duration of the journey.

I haven’t exactly been Mr Busy when it comes to blogging recently, have I? It was nothing to do with the political situation distracting me, I assure you. I’ve had a combination of end-or-year tiredness, self-imposed forced relaxation and a poorly, then energetic, son to contend with. It’s less than a week now until Mathew’s birthday. WOW! Hard to believe that this time last year I hadn’t even met him, but I think I’ve blogged about that before, so I won’t bore you with it all again now.

I shall just wish you a fine festive season ahead, and promise that I shall post more often for the rest of the month.

My advent calendar this morning gave me a chocolate reindeer, that looked more like a melted hippo (but I know it’s a reindeer, coz the pictures in the windows match the chocolates).

RC 14-12-19

Don't Gloat (a poem)

When the votes are counted

And the results announced

If your chosen candidate is elected

I’m happy for you

But please be aware

That others voted too

And they voted differently

And while you rejoice, they will feel depressed

Or concerned, or disappointed

Let them have their emotions

They’re entitled to them, just as you’re entitled to yours

A General Election is not a war

It’s not a sports match

It’s not tribal

It’s not a celebrity television show

It should be about the future of our country

Not the present result

So if your chosen candidate is elected

I’m happy for you

But please –

DON’T GLOAT

RC 12-12-19

Quiet December so far

I’m still reeling from the ridiculous amount of fluid that exploded out of my son’s body during his cold. How can a child of less than one year produce so much snot? Bless him, he was a little ball of miserableness for a while there. One funny moment, though – he sneezed while breastfeeding and shot a lungful of mucus from his nose onto Philippa’s chest. I found it hilarious.

Otherwise, our lives have been calmer than they’ve been for months. We’re all sorted with Christmas stuff. Work is busy but I’m way ahead with everything I can get way ahead with, so there’s no real pressure. It’s just day-to-day stuff that will surface, as it always does. I sometimes put too much strain on myself trying to make Christmas perfect, but really, who gives a shit? It is was you make it, and if you keep it relaxed, it’ll be brilliant.

This weekend we’re decorating the house, and we’re having a REAL TREE.

Yummy, and scrummy.

RC 6-12-19

The Most Wonderful Time, etc.

A few random thoughts scribbled down during today…

If every morning in Winter could be like the last few (bright, crisp, no wind) I would find the days so much easier to survive.

I’m excited! Lots of fun things coming up. Mathew’s first birthday won’t be a big event for him, but it’s a lovely milestone for us. At times, I’ve worried that I wouldn’t be able to get him through to the end of a year, so it feels like quite an achievement. Our family Xmas gathering is all sorted and settled, and I’m ahead with everything I need to get done at work, so the pressure feels off even though it’s the company’s busiest time. As long as no member of staff drops me in it by getting flu, everything should run smoothly.

‘Knives Out’ looks like a fun film, and I’d love to go and see it, but God knows when I’ll fit it in. It might end up being one of those ‘movies I was desperate to see at the cinema but ended up viewing on Netflix.’

The BBC version of ‘The War of the Worlds’ may have been the worst television programme of the decade. How can you take one of the greatest stories ever written and turn it into that soft, soporific Sunday night shitefest? I would complain about how my licence fee is being spent, but the mad fighting hamsters on ‘7 Worlds, 1 Planet’ last week means I’m quite likely to forgive them.

I know I should take opportunities to tempt you to visit our supermarkets, but actually the best mince pies I’ve tasted so far this year are at Smith & Sons bakery round the corner. £1.50 for 4, freshly baked every morning, packed with filling, and made with enough salted butter to give a herd of elephants a heart attack.

RC 2-12-19

Hourglass empties...

Suddenly, somehow, we are sitting at Advent Eve!

Normally I look forward to this day as excitedly as an overworked bird looks forward to the day her offspring fledge, but this year I feel quite indifferent.

It’s crept up on me, that’s the trouble. This year has been a weird conglomeration of parental strife, work woes, Brexit bullcrap and insomnia, and I haven’t been able to register the passing of time as it’s happened. Now we’ve hit the last day of November and I’m wondering where the Hell Spring went.

I know I’ll get into it tomorrow. There’ll be Advent calendars to open (Mathew has one, even though he’s too little for the chocolate. Daddy will be helping him on that front, I’m sure.) There’ll be newspapers that quite clearly have the date DECEMBER 1^st on them, and there’ll be the usual flurry of start-of-the-month e-mails from Head Office, where mid-level management bods will need to be producing more pointless spreadsheets to justify their own overpaid, unnecessary existences.

Everything just seems to happen so quickly, these days. I hate to sound old, but I’m sure I remember a time when life moved on quite steadily, and we could all take odd moments here and there to enjoy the beauty of the world and appreciate what we had around us. Nowadays it seems we’re all just rushing on to the next appointment, or the next hour of work, or the next social media post, or the next celebrity television show, and no-one pauses for breath. No-one pauses for reflection. No-one allows themselves time to regroup, re-evaluate and reset. We’re all just charging full-pelt at a destination we don’t even know, desperately trying to get there before the other people who, like us, have no idea what they’re doing and are just being pulled along by the tide. We’re leaderless, rudderless and clueless; driven on by the cultural obsession with consumerism and instant answers and self.

No wonder the months fly by unattended.

RC 30-11-19

Second Attack

My cold seems to have come back. I don’t know what this virus is, but it’s a weird one. I had three days of sniffles, soreness and lethargy, then I had a day of feeling fantastic, and now I seem to be on Day One of a cold again. Is it the same thing biting back, or a new illness leaping on the immunity dip caused by the first?

I knew I should have studied medicine.

Actually -that would be a terrible idea. I have a deep-seated, well-ingrained tendency towards hypochondria, and every time I learn of a new disease or condition I start convincing myself I have it, so spending years at university being trained in every possible human ailment would probably have caused me a breakdown.

Following on from that, to help pass the time until hometime, I present for you:

A LIST OF DISEASES THAT I HAVE JUST MADE UP. (but I bet that by the time you finish reading them, you’ll be recognising some of the symptoms and wondering whether you have them)

FASTIDIOUS NECROMITIS: An inflammation of a gland you’ve never heard of, causing you to become obsessed with staring at dead bodies.

WOBBLER’S GANGLYON: A strange growth on the scrotum of elderly men, frequently accompanied by an itching sensation and uncontrollable laughter.

CRANIAL ACNE MAJORIS: A rare condition in which a teenager’s lifetime supply of pus is contained in one huge whitehead spot on the forehead.

JASON’S EGO: Psychological disorder making athletic young men trawl the globe in search of wool products.

ORALUS PULPOUS DENTITIS: An unusual swelling of the canine teeth in young adults, leading to an ogre-like appearance. Often seen in children of cameramen.

RC 29-11-19

Parental Superpower?

Both Philippa and I seem to have made a remarkable recovery from our colds. If I believed in miracles, I would call it miraculous. Yesterday we were living in a pit of phlegm and misery, today we seem able to breathe. It’s so weird that I’m starting to wonder whether the whole thing was just a nasty, unpleasant dream. I’ve tried looking up info about colds to see if there’s a 24-hour version you can get that your body is able to repel quite quickly, but the article I started reading led me to a page about ‘Medical Warning Signs No Middle-Aged Man Should Ignore’ and now I’m convinced I have prostatitis, MS and malaria. The internet is a dangerous thing sometimes.

Anyway, it’s nice to know we can look forward to a weekend of relaxation, clear tubes and happiness, rather than the coughing, sneezing and aching I was anticipating.

I shall leave you with this Frightening Thought:

4 weeks ago today was Hallowe’en.

4 weeks from today will be Boxing Day.

RC 28-11-19

Dickensian squalor

Our entire house is full of people wracked with cold. Philippa is almost bed-ridden, Mathew is more snot than baby, and I’m only upright thanks to high-dose cold-and-flu meds and caffeine.

I’d love to take a couple of days off and look after them, but the joyous reality of working for the company I work for is that they’re not very understanding when it comes to family matters. Calling in sick to care for relatives is almost a sin. As a manager, I’m expected to drag myself in through the door even if I’m on the brink of death, which I have to say I don’t feel too far away from right now. I have a suspicion that, were I to be diagnosed with terminal cancer, they would still want me there at my desk, and would even allow a rearrangement of the office so that chemotherapy could be administered while I’m juggling the January rotas. The days of employers that place the wellbeing of their workforce above all other matters are sadly long gone, if they even existed in the first place.

If – and it’s a HUGE if – I ever end up running my own business, I swear to you now I will be a caring, understanding boss who lets you work hours that suit you and who never puts profit before people.

RC 27-11-19

Polling bollocks

This will be, I promise, the one-and-only blog I post that mentions the upcoming General Election. So allow me to make a couple of quick points:

It worries me that lots of people are planning to vote, and yet seem to have no understanding of how elections, parliament and democracy actually work.

Why is such an importance being placed on how the Party leaders are doing in televised debates? The last time I looked, we vote to elect our LOCAL MP, not a national leader. We’re not America.

I’ve never met one person who has had their mind changed about something by reading someone else’s social media posts. So what is the point of flooding your online presence with ‘reasons to vote like me’ or ‘reasons not to vote for the others’? You’re not going to affect anybody.

RC 26-11-19

Sniff

I have a cold.

I hate having colds.

They make me miserable, moody and mentally slower.

Everything seems to take longer to do and everything seems to hurt.

I’ve been quaffing Blackcurrant Lemsip all day and I still feel like a badger that’s run a marathon.

I came home hoping for sympathy, only to be told by my wife “I had an hours sleep last night and Mathew’s teething, so unless you’re dying of typhoid or something I’m really not that interested.”

So now I am cooking a curry. Nothing soothes a sore throat quicker than a steaming hot Madras. And you can use that in your adverts if you wish, curry people.

RC 25-11-19

JFK. Blown away. What else do I have to say?

Mad that it’s now 56 years since the Kennedy assassination. I have no doubt that there will be a thousand and one memes floating around today along the lines of ‘Where’s Lee Harvey Oswald when you need him?’

Very amusing…

Personally, I just see it as a great excuse to watch the extra-long, extended-edition version of Oliver Stone’s 1991 masterpiece “JFK.” Whether you think it’s conspiracy theory gone extreme, or one man’s paranoia writ large on screen, or a scarily true rendition of the events in Dallas and their aftermath, you have to admit it’s a remarkable piece of film-making. Something to be shown to aspiring actors, writers, editors and directors alike as an example of what cinema is capable of if you set your standards high enough. Some of my all-time favourite moments in movies are contained within this one film, and it saddens me to think that cinephiles under the age of 30 will probably rank it a long way down their list, behind most of the Marvel releases and at least one Peter Jackson product. Donald Sutherland’s performance as “X” will win my Best Supporting Actor EVER award if I ever get round to doing my oft-considered “All-Time Oscars”, but it also has exquisite turns from the likes of Walther Matthau, John Candy, Kevin Bacon, Wayne Knight and Jack Lemmon. Cinematography is beautiful, editing is unsurpassed and the tension that builds in some of the ‘reveal’ moments is up there with the best of Hitchcock.  It’s just brilliant.

Award yourself a prize, by the way, if you recognised todays blog title as a lyric from the Billy Joel song ‘We Didn’t Start The Fire.’ (which comes from his excellent 1989 album ‘Storm Front’ which I urge you to give a listen.)

RC 22-11-19

Multicoloured or multi-coloured?

I’m enjoying the gorgeous sunsets we’re having. The view from my office window is awful, but if I find an excuse to wander across the car park to the supermarket (which I do most afternoons around 4ish) I can look across a nearby field and see the end of the day in all its glory. I always moan about Winter but I’m realising that I love it from now until the time of my birthday. For the next couple of months it tends to be fresh, bright and bearable, and if we do have a bad turn of weather it normally involves snow, which I love. It’s after that that it feels like a slog through dark treacle until we change the clocks in March.

So I’m trying to stay as positive as possible about it all and thinking of ways I can get this ‘enjoying it’ mindset to last through January and February. Maybe a nice little family holiday in early Spring would help? A chance to go somewhere warm and get rid of the aches and pains of a British Winter? The knowledge that it was there waiting for me would surely help me on days when I’m struggling with darkness (mental and actual). Yes – I feel a trip to some travel agency websites coming on.

Mind you – we’re likely to have a No-Deal Brexit at the end of January, so God knows what that will do to holiday prices and the chances of going anywhere.

Suddenly I feel pessimistic again.

RC 21-11-19

Reflective

We’re a month away from Mathew’s first birthday.

Wow.

Hard to believe that this time last year I hadn’t even met him. I had no idea what he would look like, or sound like, or smell like, and I was questioning whether we would even like each other, and if I would take to life as a parent. How ridiculous. It’s hard to describe to people who haven’t been through it, but the second that baby gets placed in your arms you become besotted for life. It’s remarkable.

Parenting, I believe, is the only thing we’re really put on this planet to do. All that guff about success and money and academic achievement is just window dressing on top of creating a family, or distractions for people who haven’t been lucky enough to conceive yet. There’s only one driving force that affects every single creature on this Earth and that’s the urge to produce offspring. When you do it, not only do you achieve what nature has designated as your only life goal, but you’re instantly connection to the trillions of other beings on this world who have ticked the same box and passed on their genes. You’re an important part of everything.

And this time last year I didn’t realise any of that.

It’s been the most amazing, scary, life-changing, emotional, enjoyable time of my existence, and it’s only been 11 months!

I’m not crying, by the way, my eyes have just decided that my cheeks need a bit of a wash.

RC 20-11-19

You just never know how you'll feel

I feel quite cheerful today, even though I’ve been back at work, and even though it’s been dark since 4.30, and even though we’re facing a long undying stretch of Winter ahead of us. Not even the fact that we’re trapped in a pre-Election vortex of pathetic political behaviour is bothering me; nor is the ever-looming, never-to-be-resolved issue of Brexit or the arguments over a second referendum. All that shit is still ongoing, but today it’s just bouncing off me.

Maybe I’m concussed.

RC 19-11-19

Mid-November News

Been a week of weird little things that have made me feel like I’ve lived three months in seven days. Car troubles, staffing issues, headaches, son with sniffles, slightly unwell wife. It’s all stuff that builds up and hurts you, drains your energy and exhausts you.

But it’s over now. We made it. The week is done. The weekend can be planned, experienced and enjoyed. Personally I intend to spend as much time as possible at home with my beloveds and as little time as possible outside dealing with other people.

Whatever you decide to do with your weekend, I hope it goes well for you.

RC 15-11-19

Don't Vote (a political poem)

Don’t vote just to get a change

Don’t vote just because you’re angry

Don’t vote just because you’re scared

Don’t vote because you fancy the candidate

Don’t vote because you feel you should

Don’t vote because people are TELLING you ‘you should’

Don’t vote based on Brexit

Don’t vote based on immigration

Don’t vote based on ANY one issue

Only vote if you have analysed all the available information, and if there is one candidate who you agree with and are happy to have as your MP for the next five years.

If not –

DON’T VOTE

RC 12-11-19

11th Month Blues (a poem)

A cool November day

I sit upon an office stool, and sway

Wishing I could visit home, and play

But I’m ok

A dark November night

I sit upon a PS4, and fight

Wishing I could walk outside, in light

But I’m alright

RC 11-11-19

...and...exhale

Another week done.

Bonfire Night passed without anyone throwing a firework at me; I’ve managed to hold off Head Office’s relentless charge to ‘Festify’ the garages, and our family Christmas cottage is booked!

All in all, a fine few days of accomplishments.

Now I can set sail on a ship of weekend relaxation, in which I intend to enjoy a fine bottle of red wine, a walk on the beach, at least two good movies, a nice Sunday lunch out somewhere, a cuddle or two with my beloved, and a lot of daddy/Mathew time.

Marvellous.

RC 8-11-19

No Xmas talk today, I promise

The dark nights are getting on my tits already.

I know there’s nothing I can do about it (short of moving abroad somewhere) but it still hurts. I love the Autumnal colours, I love the cool, crisp air and I love sense of change and adaptation in nature, but the fact that I drive home in the dark now is a killer. Working regular, old-fashioned ‘office’ hours has its perks, but at this time of year it means I spend all of the available daylight from Monday to Friday with my work head on. I guess I have to make the most of the time that I get at weekends, but I’m normally feeling knackered by then, and I want to use all my remaining energy on my wife and child.  

It might not be an accepted thing to say these days, but we’re definitely affected by the seasons internally, right? You can’t tell me that the human body, over tens of thousands of years, didn’t develop ways to heat itself better in Winter and cool itself better in Summer. There must be mechanisms in place that kick in automatically, making us store more fat and crave more sugar, when it starts getting colder and darker. We might not migrate (more’s the pity) but we surely react in other ways? Don’t we all start feeling as tired at 4pm in November as we do at 9pm in June? Doesn’t it make sense for us, as a species that used to exist outside, to be controlled that way?

With that in mind, I am composing a proposal for my employers, in which I am allowed to adjust my working hours in line with my natural body rhythms. Longer hours in Summer; shorter hours in Winter, to allow for the drop in energy. If they go for it, I’ll only come in for three hours a day for the next three months, and then find another job in Spring.

RC 7-11-19

Yuletide update

We think we have a solution to our ‘family together for Christmas’ dilemma. Hannah has found a nice little cottage available to hire for a fairly reasonable price. It’s on a big farm, where they have four of these separate buildings that used to be lived in by staff and have now been converted into holiday homes. Two of the others cost an absolutely fortune to hire for the Christmas week, and the third is being used by the farmer’s family, but luckily for us this other one is being used as digs by visiting actors in a big pantomime. The theatre company have already paid for it to be used throughout December, but obviously the performers will be going home for a couple of days to be with their families, so we can have it from Christmas Eve til Boxing Day afternoon for a few hundred quid.  It’s self-catering, but even allowing for the food bill, it still works out as an inexpensive way to have the whole family under one roof. We were prepared to spend £60 each on a three-course meal out somewhere; this way we get two nights of accommodation for not much more. Sophie has already offered to cook for us all. Nathan has to do some churchy duties in the morning, but it’s not too far away from their home so he can nip off for a couple of hours and be back for lunch. We can all chip in for the grub, I’ll use my 20% staff discount card to get it all a bit cheaper, and we can hold up there for 48 hours and have a merry old time fit for a Dickensian festive feelgood novella!

I’m looking forward to it already.

RC 6-11-19

Leave me alone, I beg you

Head Office are up everyone’s arses to ‘Festify’ all our workplaces. There’s no money available for staffing, obviously, but they can throw countless thousands into a pot to spend on baubles and tinsel. They seem convinced that making our garage look like something vomited up by a tipsy elf will persuade our customers to dip in their pockets for chocolates. I can understand them decorating the stores to death, but why do we humble filling stations have to follow suit and fill every able wall space with glitter? I find it hard to believe that a Volvo driver will see an advent calendar on our counter and go “Oh, shit, yeah – Christmas! Better get my wallet out and spend nine hundred quid on Heroes.”

I love December, but I’m already pining for January.

RC 5-11-19

Bitty Weekend Bits

With 48 hours distance, and a chance to reflect, let us mention England’s World Cup Final defeat by South Africa. I think my feelings can be summed up this way - I’ve never felt so disappointed about a sport I’m not really interested in.

I went off to watch some fireworks Saturday night. Without a wife to accompany me, I decided to be a cheapskate and parked down a side road close to the field where the bonfire was, hoping I could get a nice free show. It worked, a bit, but they were using a playing field enclosed by trees, so I only really got to see the rockets that went up at the end. Not the same, it has to be said, but at least I was only out of the house for an hour.

I arrived at work today to see that the supermarket is installing its Christmas tree in the foyer. The day before Guy Fawkes Night, and they’re sprucing up the spruce already.
I know I work for them, but they are bastards.

RC 4-11-19

Fizzling out

You probably know, if you’ve read any of my past early November postings, that I am a bit of a fan of Bonfire Night. I love the fireworks, I love the open-air food, I love the gatherings of likeminded people all out and about to enjoy a common spectacle. It’s become a bit of a tradition in recent years to venture out with Philippa and cuddle up close near a fire, but this year that streak may be broken by the fact that we are parents.

Philippa thinks it will be too much for Mathew, but she’s happy for me to go out and see a display without them. I’m not sure that sounds like a great deal of fun, really. Mainly because there won’t be anyone there to drive me home after I’ve gotten slowly wasted from my hip flask.

RC 2-11-19

As expected

I sent out all the details of the staff rotas for December and people reacted as if I’d asked them to eat their own spleen for Christmas dinner.

One of the joys of management is having to deal with individuals and their foibles. What seems ultra-important to one of them is just an insignificance to another, and it’s up to me to juggle all that and keep them all happy.  What hasn’t helped is the fact that we’re now committed to this awful money-saving ‘staff sharing’ scheme between the garages and the supermarkets. We have a few ‘floating’ members of staff who are there to plug in any gaps in the schedules. They work 2 or 3 days a week each and get moved around different departments depending on where they’re needed. It’s helpful, but you never know if you’ll get the same person from one day to the next, so you might have to take time out to train them on the tills every time. Jesus, there were a lot of ‘t’s in that sentence.

I think I dealt with it all in my usual calm, professional manner. By which I mean, I huffed, sighed and shrugged a lot and then swore at my office wall for an hour.

RC 1-11-19

Hallowe'en Haiku 2019

Hated Hallowe’en

Now I have my own offspring

It seems like more fun

I’m staying in, but..

If I were trick-or-treating

I’d dress as a nun

Excited children

Spiders webs adorn windows

October’s last day

Hallowe’en builds up

Tomorrow is November

It will all be gone

Get through todays shite,

Then this weekend we enjoy:

BONFIRES AND FIREWORKS!!!

RC 31-10-19

Trials and Turnovers

Have you ever tried to work out the Christmas and New Year rotas for four sperate places of employment, each with 8 or 9 members of staff, each with their own expectations and demands and family commitments? I have spent ages thrashing this stuff to within an inch of its life and now I finally feel as if I know what will happen when and where and with whom.  I shall leave it overnight and double check it in the morning, and if it still seems right, I shall post it on the virtual noticeboard for all to peruse. At which point, I am sure, at least three people will pipe up with problems. I’ll have scheduled someone a Boxing Day shift who has already told me they’re away all week, or something. For now, at least, I feel the satisfaction of a hard job done well, and an urge for a celebratory hot chocolate and a pastry.

RC 30-10-19

New obsession (grid edition)

I’ve got into doing crosswords. The cryptic ones. Mostly at work, if I’m honest. I find them to be a nice distraction and a way of giving my naughty, wandering mind something to concentrate on so it’s not dragging me into depression with thoughts of global warming or work worries. There are some great online websites, packed full of them, but my computer usage is being monitored automatically and I’m already on some kind of watchlist at Head Office, so I’m mostly accessing them on my phone via some nice apps I’ve found. I’m also, I must confess, (and because I never do things by halves when I could do them by thirty-two halves at least), photocopying them from the daily newspapers we get at work, and storing them for future use. I already have enough to see me through until Christmas, but I can’t seem to stop myself doing it.

RC 29-10-19

No room (except) at the Inn

Our plan to spend Christmas Day together, being fussed over by people we are paying to serve us, seems to be falling apart. Hannah has contacted several places and they’re all already full booked. Jesus – can’t anyone be bothered to cook for themselves anymore? There are plenty of low-grade gastropubs happy to charge you £29 for turkey and trimmings, but they seem to be running a rolling carvery, rather than a proper sit-down, one-serving-only traditional, proper roast. If we do go out for Xmas lunch I want it to be a bit special, I don’t want to feel like just another family crammed into a crowded Brewer’s Fayre where they’re putting profit over the personal touch and rushing you through so they can fill your table again. (No offence to Brewer’s Fayre, by the way, they were just the first chain of pubs I could think of. Actually, I really like their food and it’s not overpriced at all. I’ll close these parentheses now before I completely wipe out my own argument).

Anyway, she’s still having a look around and we’ll see what she comes up with, if not we’ll have to go to Plan B. (with B standing for ‘Bollocks – one of us will have to cook.’)

RC 28-10-19

The Nice and Not-so-nice

Area Manager popped in today for a late afternoon coffee-and-chat. The first thing he did was apologise for the fact that I’m having to run all my decisions through him, per Head Office instructions. Then he praised me for all my pre-Hallowe’en efforts, which is ironic because I pushed ahead with all that without even mentioning it to him beforehand. Then we ate custard donuts, then he said ‘Look, as far as I’m concerned, you didn’t do anything wrong. They’re not even checking what you send me, I just have to let them know that you’re sticking to the plan and obeying instructions. Give it another two weeks and they’ll have forgotten anything ever happened, so just carry on as you are mate, and I’ll send them weekly e-mails saying you’re being a good boy.’

Not sure how I feel about any of that, but at least he seems to be on my side.

Monday, because of the totally ludicrous way that our systems of employment work, will be Martha’s last day as a member of staff. I have to say I’m very sad to be losing her. She’s efficient, intelligent, supportive; doesn’t moan, doesn’t gossip, doesn’t turn up late or sneak off early, and she’s the only person employed at any of my four garages who I haven’t had to speak to about ‘use of mobile phones while working’. I shall miss her, and so will the customers, I suspect. We’re sending her off by having a very childish party from 3-5pm (which tend to be the quietest hours) and I’m delighted that all the other members of staff are coming in to say goodbye. I suppose, as her manager, it’s on me to make a little speech and make her feel appreciated.

How about this as a first draft: “Martha is a selfish cow. She’s dropping us in the shit just so she can train up as a medical professional and spend the rest of her life helping people who need help. I mean – what’s she doing? Who would give up the life of a diesel-smelling forecourt and replace it with a satisfying career in nursing? Weirdo…”

I can’t remember if I mentioned it, but Those Above Me, in their infinite wisdom, decided we’re not allowed to replace her, seeing this as an opportunity to ‘streamline the workforce’ and ‘save on expenditure’. Easy for them to say – they’re not the ones who have to cover the holes in the schedule. I’ve managed to juggle the rotas so that everyone gains a little by her departure, without being over-burdened with extra hours, but it’s not been an easy task.

Anyway – I’ve mentioned work stuff A LOT this week, so tomorrow’s blog will be about jam.

RC 25-10-19

A week to 'ween

This week, workwise, has been about getting everything geared up for Hallowe’en.  The Company see the end of this month as an excuse to tap into people’s spending urges and make a healthy profit from unhealthy snacks, but I see it as a way to bring a little bit of joy into everyone’s mundane Brexit-dominated lives, so I’ve been to all four garages and supervised decorations and plans. We have little competitions running, there’s an opportunity to have photos taken with a pumpkin sculpted by a local artist, and we have a social media thing going on, where I’m giving one regular customer from each garage a free tank of fuel if they upload a picture of their car in fancy dress. If we don’t get at least one Land Rover made up to look like the car from The Munsters I’ll be very disappointed indeed.

RC 24-10-19

Weekend Reflections, follow-up

One thing we did discuss at the weekend was Christmas. I know I’ve always said it shouldn’t even be thought about until after November 5^th, but with one sister working shifts and the other one engaged to a vicar, it’s not something we can leave until the last minute.  It’s only nine weeks away, you know.  We threw it around a bit and we’ve actually decided we’re going to book a table at a restaurant somewhere, and all meet up for lunch on the Big Day itself. It goes against what we all normally do, but it would be so nice to spend Christmas Day with all three siblings (and associated parties) together. None of us really has the space and facilities to cater for half a dozen (plus a young one) so it makes sense to meet up somewhere central and let someone else do all the work in the kitchen. I offered to be the one to do the research and find somewhere suitable, but the women in my life don’t trust me to boil an egg, much less pick a decent eatery, so that task has been taken on by Hannah.

My responsibilities fell elsewhere - I’m not sure how it happened, but I boldly said I would happily pay for everyone’s lunch, instead of getting them presents.

So I now have to hope Hannah finds somewhere reasonably priced…

RC 23-10-19

Weekend Reflections

I watched all four rugby world cup games this weekend. That may sound selfish, considering we had a guest, but let me explain. Friday night involved quite a lot of wine. Sophie needed to relax and needed to get a few things off her chest, so we plied her with plenty of vino and let her unload a few work woes. So, for her, Saturday morning was mostly about sleep and recovery. Then, at about 11pm that evening, the girls decided they should have a Sunday morning shopping spree together, spending money on clothes and spending time talking about things they wouldn’t want to discuss with me around. So I happily let them head off into the big city and I watched Wales beat France, and South Africa beat Japan and then I had a nice roast lunch waiting for them on their return.

All in all, it was a mighty fine couple of days. Sophie, I think, is still a bit lost without Tamara in her life. I know it’s been a while, but she obviously hasn’t got over the split and isn’t sure how to move on. I tried to stay out of it. The good thing about having a gay sister is that we can relate to the fact that we both fancy females, but if I start talking to her about the way women are in relationships, I’m not just using a shared point of reference, I’m slagging off her own sex. So I decided to let her and Philippa have a chat about it, while I nipped in and out making tea.

RC 21-10-19

Quick Rugby World Cup Thought

The scrum must be the weirdest thing to watch in any sport.

So I’ve written a haiku about it:

Homoerotic.

Sweaty, muscular players

forming a turtle.

RC 18-10-19

A fortnight from B-Day

Problems at two of my garages today, so it was one of those ‘blue-arsed fly’ days where I was driving between locations while talking to somewhere else while trying to e-mail Higher Management to keep them abreast of developments. Somehow, things got sorted, so we can all go on as normal now while Head Office tries to blame the whole scenario on Brexit.

“B-Day” does seems an appropriate title to give the upcoming Brexit deadline, as it sounds like the French word ‘bidet,’ which also refers to a shitty situation involving an arsehole.

I’m going to change the subject now, as thoughts on that particular political maelstrom are starting to make me feel queasy again. I can only hope that it all goes off without a hitch and we smoothly and effortlessly leave the EU without any cataclysmic consequences.

Mind you, I was hoping that back in March, and we’re no nearer now than we were then….

RC 17-10-19

Bunting and bartering

Don’t blame me, but we are well and truly taking advantage of England’s progress to the quarter-finals of the Rugby World Cup. The flags are back out of storage, the ‘Good Luck’ banners are up and there are Special Offers on everything from lager to Pringles to white socks. Not wanting to reveal too many tricks of the trade here, but obviously by ‘Special Offer’ we mean ‘Slightly Repackaged Product That Normally Doesn’t Sell Well So We’ve Stuck A St. George’s Cross On It And Appealed To Your Patriotic Sensibilities.’

RC 16-10-19

Still buzzing

After yesterday’s Thousand-Word-Plus epic, I promise not to take up too much of your time today.

Sister Sophie is popping to stay with us this weekend. We see so little of her since we moved to Suffolk, even though we’re less than two hours drive from each other. Her shifts are weird, and her responsibilities are quite taxing, so she can’t always get away for long enough to justify coming this way. But she is due a lot of holiday, so asked if we could put her up for a few days and spend some quality time together, and we’ve set it all up for this weekend.

I haven’t blogged much about my sisters in recent months. It’s all been about my work woes and the joys of parenthood, and so I haven’t been keeping you up to date with what is going on in the lives of my siblings. It’s something I really must change.

But I’m quite a self-centred person, so it might not happen for a while yet.

RC 15-10-19

60,000 people; 1 shared enjoyment

Yesterday I attended my first ever proper NFL game.

Wow.

Not sure where to start, or what to say.

You probably know that I’m not exactly a practising sportsman myself. I’m also not a great one for watching sports on television, and I certainly have never felt the urge to travel to a stadium, pay money to get in, and watch it ‘in the flesh.’ In fact, the thought of being in a crowded public place surrounded by low-intellect morons who are screaming abuse at each other while indulging in their tribalistic urges fills me with repulsion.

But yesterday, I fought through all that, and sat in the Tottenham Hotspur Stadium for five hours, thoroughly enjoying myself and enjoying my fellow man.

Wow.

This all came about because Ted’s family, who are all sporting mad, seem determined to somehow convince me that the best way to use money that you’ve earned is to blow it on overpriced tickets to watch overpaid athletes at overpublicised events. They think I am missing something from my life, and that my reluctance to find sport ‘exciting’ is simply down to a lack of experience, rather than a reasoned decision. They pester me constantly about joining them at everything from The Highland Games to Mud Wrestling at their local pub, and even the World Bog-Snorkelling Championships. (which I assure you is a real thing, and I assure you has been attended by at least one of Ted’s offspring.)

So, anyway, knowing of my love for the NFL they bought me a ticket without giving me a chance to say ‘no’ and then made sure that Philippa kept the weekend free so I wouldn’t have any excuses not to go.

I have to say, my long-seated reservations – of all kinds – were unfounded, and I am SO GLAD that I managed to battle through my own deep-seated determination never to do anything different and went along.

The main plus point for me was the atmosphere. This wasn’t a ‘one team versus another,’ them-and-us, battle lines drawn in the sand and knuckledusters on affair, this was a celebration of a sport that most of us in Europe never get a chance to see live. So the Raiders fan to my right didn’t attempt to knife me, or convert me, or spit on me, or automatically hate me because I support a different Californian team to him, he just embraced me as another fan and talked to me like a brother.

In front of us were four actual Tampa Bay Buccaneers fans. I mean actual in that they are residents of Florida, season ticket holders at their home stadium, and had travelled over together especially for the game this weekend. I’d read rumours and reports that a lot of fans in the US hate the International games, as they only get 8 home games a year as it is, and so having one of them taking place in the UK means they have to schlepp across the Atlantic at their own added expense, or miss out on the game altogether. But the guys I spoke to were loving it. They knew well in advance of the season starting that this was on their schedule, and they saw it as a once-in-a-lifetime excuse for an opportunity and chose to embrace it fully. God knows what they’d spent between them, but I don’t think any of them regretted it.

I think the only team I didn’t see represented in shirt form was the Cleveland Browns, which shouldn’t be surprising as they’ve been dogshit bad for a decade.

It was quite a good game, as well. Not, apparently, up to the excitement of last week’s Raiders/Bears showdown (several people I spoke to attended both games) but there was plenty of action, plenty of points, and plenty of interceptions, so my attention was rapt throughout. It may have been the pricey lager I drank during the half-time interval, but I was positively beaming by the middle of the third quarter and, despite my hatred of these things, was shouting along with the rest of them and indulging in a few of the chants. The stadium deserves a mention, too. Obviously I know very little of sports arenas, and if you’d shown me a picture of the place a week ago I wouldn’t know whether it was Wembley, Twickenham or the San Siro (I just had to look those up online) but it’s certainly an impressive place. Lots and lots of people in there, and yet it felt quite cosy, while being spacious enough for all. Quite a trick really. Also, we literally had the cheapest seats in the whole building – we were stuck off in one corner right in the back row – and yet our view of the whole pitch was sufficient that we all kept up to date with everything. If you did happen to glance away and miss something, it all gets a repeat showing on four big screens that are suspended from the roof, each of which is bigger than the village I was born in.

It took a while to get out, and get away, but I wasn’t driving so I didn’t care. The journey home flew by, and it was just lovely to be talking about ‘American Football’ with people who understood what I was talking about, rather than just saying ‘isn’t that a bit like rugby?’ or ‘It’s all a bit complicated for me.’ Terms like Pass Interference, Yards After The Catch and Intentional Grounding do take a while to get the hang of, but once you know it, you love it, and the more you learn the better it gets, and it was so nice to be spending time with people who got it. The suggestion has already been made that this becomes an annual event, and I would happily have handed over my money there and then if tickets were already available.

And then, to top it all off, I was home in time to see the 49ers win AGAIN, this time against last year’s Conference Champions, the LA Rams. We are now, for the first time in 30 years, unbeaten in our first five games of a season.

Good, good times.

I can’t be bothered to check, but I have a suspicion this may now be the longest blog posting I’ve ever written.

Rory breaking a 10-year-old record by writing lots of words about SPORT???

Wow.

RC 14-10-19

Mathew solves all ills

My shitty mood has lifted, and it only took 12 hours. Yesterday, last night, after my head-mashing runs-in with several morons who are higher up the Management Ladder than myself, I was struggling not to give in to Despair.

Today, after a good nights sleep (aided by a long chat with Philippa and then a large bottle of wine) I am calm, settled and enjoying myself. I’d like to say it’s because I’m a reasonable and reasoned, mature individual, and that I thought things through, accepted my mistakes, and moved on, but that’s not true; it’s simply because I’ve spent all day so far with my son. There may be days where Parenthood overwhelms me and I feel incompetent to the point of ineptitude, but there are also days when I feel as if someone has opened a hole in the top of my head and then poured Joy into me until I’m overflowing with it. Today has been one such day. He has been a stumbling, gurgling, clumsy, noisy, smelly, human-shaped lump of Perfection, and I have loved every second I have spent with him. He’s asleep now, and I don’t think I’m too far behind him on the ‘needing a kip’ ladder. I knew that being a dad would be exhausting when they’re older, and energetic, and need to be chased around the garden or played football with, but who would have thought that

crawling along pretending to be a dinosaur, and then waving various multi-coloured cuddly toys in his face, and then holding him above my head and pretending to drop him, would also wipe me out?

I have so much to learn, and that’s fine. He’s teaching me a lot about myself and my life, and sometime when he’s older I shall thank him.

RC 12-10-19

Hot weather / Hot water

A teacher based at a sixth-form college in Ipswich has asked if I can be interviewed by their A-level students about ‘the petroleum industry and its opposition to progress on climate change.’ It’s only for their latest project, and it’s an anonymous interview, so it’s not as if I’ll be quoted in the Press as a representative of OPEC or something.

I thought it would be a nice way to gauge how I interact with teenagers, considering that I am considering becoming a teacher. I also thought it would be handy to have my name known at a local educational establishment, in preparation of needing to contact them in the future for classroom experience or, eventually, a job.

So I said yes.

I set it up for one day next week, inviting them to spend an hour with me at the filling station before heading over to the supermarket for a light lunch and a proper chat in our spare managers office. They were absolutely overjoyed, and I was silently happy to have something a bit out-of-the-ordinary to look forward to next week.

Then I thought I’d better let Those Above Me know what was happening, and all Hell broke loose.

I shall spare you the boring details, and spare myself the pain of reliving them, but here are the outcomes and conclusions in list form:

1.    I was in my office until 7pm this evening.

2.    The interview is no longer happening.

3.    I have had to e-mail the college rescinding my offer and insisting that any future contact they wish to make with the Company be directed through Head Office.

4.    I am being booked on whichever pointless course my ‘superiors’ deem to be the most apt, to ensure something similar doesn’t happen again.

5.    For the foreseeable future I have to run every decision I make past my Area Manager, even simple ones like how much stock to order, or which hand to wipe my arse with.

6.    I am now more determined than ever to instigate an as-soon-as-possible career change.

RC 11-10-19