Ouch, part 2395 approx.

I stupidly got myself burnt again yesterday. AGAIN. For Christ's sake, is there no chance of me ever learning from my own mistakes??? Apparently not...
I'm quite glad I took advantage of the heat though, as today has been damp, subdued and considerably cooler than the past week or so. And NO - I am NOT glad to have 'a break from the heat'. If you want to listen to one of those British people who start complaining about being too hot on the dozen or so days every year when we actually, finally get something resembling Summer, then I suggest you try another blog.

By the way - hoping you can learn from my experiences today - my tips for 'Things To Avoid When You Have Sunburnt Arms' include: getting food out of an oven that has been cooking at 200C, rubbing your arms against a brick wall as you're doing some weeding, allowing your young son to grab hold of you unexpectedly when his hands are covered in sand, and getting into a hot shower.

In other news, I have been far too busy enjoying the glorious weather to be bothered about blogging regularly. I've managed to get a bit of cycling done, I've swum in the sea a couple of times after work and (up until yesterday) I've been doing all that without vastly improving my chances of developing skin cancer.  I am feeling far more buoyant than I have for months, and I am forcing myself to ignore the fact that the year is half over and we're already past the shortest night...
I am also trying to persuade Philippa that we should move somewhere abroad where this kind of weather is a regular occurrence rather than a rare treat, but so far, so NO.

RC 30-6-24

Redder than a lobster's fire engine

I was so intensely obsessed with keeping my sons safe in the sun yesterday that I completely forgot to apply suncream to myself! As a result, I am now adorned by very sore skin along both forearms, both lower legs, and across the back of my neck. The heat from it was so impressive last night that Philippa couldn't lay beside me. Mathew kept asking why my arms looked like I'd dipped them in paint. And it's been a rather uncomfortable night, with every movement in my sleep causing me to wake up yelping.
You would have thought I might have known better at my age, but I got caught up in the excitement of the day, and the continual hours of Summer gorgeousness just kept my brain away from registering the skin discomfort, I guess, and so here I am. Sat in my office and feeling like various parts of my body are being attacked with candles.
Thank God for E45 cream.

RC 24-6-24

Ways To Traumatise Your Offspring, no. 107

We were planning to have family day at a local festival on Sunday. But then we showed Mathew a picture of the giant puppets that they've made to lead their parade and he screamed the place down and ran and hid in his bedroom. So we're going to go for a picnic instead, and I am now wondering whether my mental dream about the huge rodent following me around was actually a premonition about my son's reaction to the puppets.

RC 22-6-24

Enlightenment, part 2

My latest three books that I ordered to satisfy my latest weird obsession have all arrived. One has already been started, and the other two are hidden on the part of the bookshelf marked 'Don't Let Philippa See These Or She'll Start To Doubt My Sanity Again'.
Sometimes I just can't help myself. I get excited about a new topic and I start to research it online, and then I'll be given a long list of 'suggested readings' and I can't resist the purchase. So now I have three books about surviving cults and the long-term effects of being raised by alternative religions, and I've barely scratched the surface of what's available and I am having to work very hard within myself not to splurge and fill half a room with a pile of badly-written biographies and sensationalist accounts.
I need some kind of 'parental lock' put on my laptop, restricting my access to eBay. I really do.

RC 21-6-24

Wildreams, no's 37-43 inclusive

I'm glad I've managed to keep insomnia at bay for a while now, but the downside is that I'm having some absolutely nutty dreams while I'm slumbering. And not my usual insane brand of nonsensical, whimsical, disconnected narratives, but a collection of genuinely disturbing scenarios.
In one, I was being followed around by a seven-foot tall rodent that was dressed in what appeared to be Bedouin desert garb. My day at work panned out as normal, but this bloody thing kept getting closer and closer, and gave me the impression he was making serious judgments about me every second. No-one else could see him, and I was getting increasingly more paranoid and scared as the day wore on. In the end, I refused to drive home because I was convinced he would follow me there and do horrible things to my children.
In another one, I was a pilot for a large airline, but just as we arrived at our destination airport I remembered that I'd never actually learnt how to land. I was scrapping around trying to find a manual while the co-pilot (who seemed to be the inflatable autopilot from the movie 'Airplane!') was shouting at me about undercarriage deployment speeds and the best blend of tea to order with breakfast.
Even writing these things down here is making me feel a bit queasy. Amazing how our dreams can affect us, is it not?
I'll just give you one more - last night's offering, that led to me laying awake at 3am seriously considering calling 999 and asking for the duty psychologist...
I was a ballerina. And a bloody good one. But the problem was that I had been cast in a big production that required me to do some ridiculous high-dive off a train roof, and no-one seemed to care that I was wearing a cast on my leg to support a shattered ankle, despite me repeatedly showing them my x-rays and forcing them to talk to my surgeon via Zoom. It ended with me in mid-air, knowing I was about to be in agony, and thinking 'I really must change my agent.'
Madness.

RC 20-6-24

Enlightenment

Philippa gave me a massage this evening, and it was such a lovely physical connection that I decided to broach the subject of our recent unpleasantnesses and my theory that it could possibly be caused by my wife wanting to get pregnant again. I worded it very carefully, I feel, and was sensitive and caring in my approach, and gave her an open opportunity to be honest with me about her feelings.
Her reply was, "No, that had nothing to do with it. Sometimes you can just be a prick. That's what I've been struggling with."
So at least I have something to work with there, I guess.

RC 19-6-24

The Good and The Bad and The Snugly

We popped to see Ted and Beryl yesterday and it was quite a family affair, so we got to see some of their descendants that we haven't seen in months and that was lovely. Ted still looks very frail, bless him, but he IS old, so it's to be expected. He was ranting about "that nancy Southgate" being in charge of the England team, and how he has no expectations that 'we'll win the Euros, or anything else' in his lifetime. We did a 'predictions' bet and Rory, being very much 'not in the know' about these things, went for a 3-2 win for Serbia. The laughter in the room was pleasant, but unfortunately aimed at me. Philippa said 2-1 to England and won the bloody bet because it ended 1-0 and she was closest to the actual result. We also did a sweepstake for the whole tournament and I have ended up with Belgium and Georgia. I did a bit of late-night research, and Belgium are ranked 3rd in the world, while Georgia sit at 75th. I'm thinking that one of those has a much better chance of being Champions than the other. But Georgia do have one of the best flags in existence, so I'm happy to throw them my support.

There is still a fair amount of frostiness at home. I guess, after a couple of months of disharmony, you can't turn the corner in one weekend. Now I know I am very much to blame as much as Philippa, but I also think I may have got to the root of what the main problem is. And it will make it sound like I'm putting it all on her, and I'm not, but I really do think that the 'third child' conversations, and me closing the door on that as an option, were the catalyst for everything that has happened since. She very strongly wants to have another baby, whereas I am absolutely against the idea. I thought that we would just be able to carry on and be happy but something has changed in our relationship. We're both coming at this from completely different angles now, and failing to meet in the middle. So I don't know what the answer is, but at least there's been (mostly) a respite from the rage; and we've had some very loving cuddles and lovely chats about other aspects of life.

RC 17-6-24

thoughts on a future venture

I'm starting to wonder whether or not I should take a stab at starting a cult myself. Watching the leaders of this weird group we have staying with us at the moment I am struck by just how much power they seem to hold over the people in their 'flock' and I'm thinking how easy it must be to take advantage of that and manipulate them. I mean - there must be something in this cult business or there wouldn't be so many of them still in existence and littering recent history. There have been some terrible incidents and horrific stories and the press coverage has never been favourable, and yet still there are a huge number of these things successfully recruiting and flourishing. Maybe The One True Rory should get in on this action...
I mean, I'm above average intelligence, I can be witty, I can be charming; they seem to be the main criteria incumbent on a person at the top of a cult pyramid. Smile at 'em and fill 'em with religious-sounding waffle and they'll follow you into a forest and tithe themselves into bankruptcy. That seems to be the form.
Would I not be capable of such things?
I've watched Nathan do his Priest thing several times and he has the congregation in the palm of his hand every Sunday, and he's not exactly charismatic. He's about as engaging as a toothbrush, if I'm honest, but probably not as good for your teeth.
I don't know what our aims would be, nor what I would expect my followers to adhere to, and I'm not saying it's a done deal as a career plan, but I'll give it some more thought and get back to you.

RC 13-6-24

God help me...

I found an intriguing podcast featuring a woman who was born into a rather bizarre cult in America, and who has now written a book about her own experiences and compared them to people who are part of organised religions.
Obviously, I've ordered a copy...

RC 12-6-24

Something non-relationship

We have rather a large group of religious people staying with us until Friday. (By 'us' I mean my place of work, not my family - these people are staying onsite, not visiting me and Philippa at home). I'm tempted to say they are 'fanatics' but that might be a bit of an over-stretch. They are certainly devout and dedicated and quietly determined to convert me if they can. They keep handing me leaflets and telling me I am welcome to join them for their meditations and services and inviting me to join them on beach walks and reminding me that Jesus is my saviour and that God created all things. I'm tempted to ask them if that includes insomnia but apparently He is concerned with the good of all humanity, and not so interested in the night-time problems of one particular manager in Suffolk. (see - The Message is sinking in slowly - I'm already capitalising His pronoun and making excuses for his inactivity!)
I can't even tell you what their denomination is, but it's something obscure, specific and abstract. It's probably on the leaflet but I'm not likely to look at it now I've thrown it in the recycling, so I'll just have to take a guess: The Church of the Norwegian Ninth-Year Adventist Carcinogens, or something like that. They're nice folk, though, and one of their tenets seems to be the belief that breakfast is a time to be gluttonous, so they're spending a fortune in the restaurant each morning.
As a sidenote, isn't it interesting that the word 'denomination' - meaning 'a recognised autonomous branch of the Christian church' - almost contains the word DEMON???
Anyways, all their mumbo-jumbo is reminding me that I had a spell doing a bit of Bible study not too long ago. Not from a theological point of view, just to read up on the history of where the original stories came from and how they came to be put together as they were. I found it really very interesting and I know I barely touched the surface of the subject while that particular topic was the object of my hyperfocus, so I'm now trying terribly hard not to disappear back down that research rabbit-hole again, as I really don't have the time spare to do it...

RC 11-6-24

Worklife is easier when homelife is stable

We had quite a good chat at home last night. It felt somehow wrong to just go to bed and not acknowledge that things had been better, so I mentioned to Philippa that it had been a lovely day and felt so much better than the way things had been. I think, for her, it might have been easier to just enjoy the effects and take it from there, as she was reluctant to re-live the horrors of the past few weeks. I think she may well think that it was all my fault and therefore didn't think there was much to talk about. (Or that may just be me overthinking things again... just for a change...)
Anyway, the chat was honest and lovely and a few things came up that we can work on, and we ended it with a hug and a shared determination to improve things, and that's fantastic.
As a result, this morning was far more pleasant than the past dozen or so had been, and as a result, I have come to work feeling far less stressed and far more relaxed and will probably be far more productive.

RC 10-6-24

Hope rekindled

Today has been lovely, quite frankly. My doom-laden thoughts of Friday have been rather dissipated by Philippa and I both making an effort today and thoroughly enjoying time together as a family. We had a lovely lunch, we had a nice walk through a picturesque wood and then we popped to see some friends, where we behaved ourselves and chatted like a happy married couple rather than one who have hardly said a kind word to each other in a month!
She even let me watch the end of the French Open Men's tennis final without passing comment on my laziness.
I don't know what changed. Maybe me writing out my thoughts and fears on Friday shifted something in my head and lightened the pressure a little. Maybe it hadn't been as bad as I had thought; or maybe it was, and we both got simply fed up with it being that way and wanted to change it. Or maybe we just both relaxed and just talked to each other instead of being combative or conflictual. Or maybe we both needed a good night's sleep, which we both managed to do last night.
Anyway, whatever it was that instigated it, it's been a bloody welcome change of atmosphere, and I hope we both keep working to keep it this way. One thing it has shown me is that I am absolutely NOT ready to even remotely consider the possibility that I might at some point, now or in the future, be out of a relationship with Philippa. I honestly think I would do whatever it takes to save things, no matter how bad they get, because the idea that it might end is just unbearable.

RC 9-6-24

...and breathe...

Ok. Time to be honest. Philippa and I are having a few difficulties.
There - I've said it, possibly for the first time in this blog, because it's probably the first time it's happened since we got together. And I know I've moaned about her before, and I know I've talked about 'issues' we've been having, and I know I've jokingly talked about us being in trouble on days when we've had a bit of a falling out; but this is different. Very different. We seem to be stuck in a slow spiral of sniping and spite and neither of us seems to know how to put the brakes on.
I think we're both very tired and we've lost our relationship a bit to the realities of being a family and before we realised it was happening we have hit a point where we don't know how to start it over again. The little things we loved have become the big things that annoy us and anything that happens seems to be the other person's fault, and we're both as guilty as each other and both seem incapable of taking a step back and apologising. And I really don't know what we can do about it. I'm working long hours, she's trying to juggle motherhood with working part-time at a doctor's surgery while also trying to kick-start her career as a self-employed sports massage therapist. And there are two energetic boys that we love dearly but who are adding a level of extra anguish and an extra layer of pressure to the whole thing.
It's just all so exhausting and I think we're stuck in an uncomfortable pattern and it's easier to have a go at each other than to have a go at making things better.
Maybe the answer is a couple of days away together. Everyone kept telling us it's important to have 'couples time' away from your children but we always felt guilty if we even considered it. And we genuinely, honestly both love spending all our time with them, and hate not being with them. But maybe a weekend somewhere would do us the world of good. A 'clear the air' time to reconnect and rekindle our affections.
But when? I'm locked into the busiest time of year with my employment, and that won't ease off until the Autumn, and I'm almost certain Philippa won't like the idea of losing a chance for some weekend business. But maybe I'll have a quiet word with Gavin and see if he can give me a couple of days off one week and the use of a hotel spa somewhere, just to give us a break from the house and a chance to breathe and be.
Because if something doesn't happen soon, then I'm worried something will happen soon; if you see what I mean. And I cannot bear the thought of losing her.

RC 7-6-24

Another day; another month

I'm in the mood for a Monthly Challenge again. I think having something to concentrate on and aim for might make it less likely that I'll leave a big gap between postings again, like what I did in May. Mind you, I ended up with 15 posts by the 31st, which ain't so bad.

It's been a lovely day, after a week of wet wetness. My plan to instigate a regular weekly barbecue got overtaken by a desire to spend some time at the beach with the little ones, so it was a fun picnic on the sand today instead of a wild cook-out in the garden. Equally as satisfying, though. Mathew had great fun in the waves, Rian slept a surprising amount in the shelter of the little beach tent, and we made friends with a family who not only had two sons almost exactly the same age as ours, but also had two gorgeous terriers who were so gentle and friendly that I almost thought they were stoned. Beach life is a good life, I feel.

Back to the grind of the worklife tomorrow, but should be a bit quieter now that half-term is done and dusted. We can sort a few repairs, resurrect our Monday meetings and mop up the water from last week, just in time for the deluge that is forecast for the next three days.
My insomnia is under control, my depression seems to have shifted and family time is filling me with fullness. It's all good right now.

RC 2-6-24