Too much topping

I don't like to end the month sounding moany, and this is a revisit of a previous grievance anyway, but I've started now so I may as well voice my thoughts and get them out of my head...
I really don't think it's a good thing that we've developed a 'more is better' attitude to the way we produce desserts in this country. We had a meal out this evening and the dessert menu was like reading a 6-year-old child's version of what a balanced meal might be.
"Triple-chocolate brownie with a rich chocolate sauce, served with clotted cream ice cream and adorned with sprinkles and a Flake".
And that was probably the healthiest item on the list.
I thought we were supposed to be getting better at this stuff as time went on? I thought we were supposed to be learning from our past mistakes and discovering more and more about healthy eating? I thought we were getting better information from experts, and that we were all supposed to be heeding the advice that came about as a result of that information?
How come I can't buy a regular, old-fashioned glass of Pepsi in 90% of the pubs in Britain now (due to the 'sugar tax' on drinks) and yet I can order a dessert in the same establishment that contains enough sugar to give an oversized hippo 6 different types of diabetes? What, actually, the hell, is going on here?
There seems to have been a weird cultural change from 'have things in moderation' to 'eat what the Hell you like'. There seems to have been a shift in thought that says people telling you how to eat properly are somehow infringing on your rights and if you obey them you're 'a slave to the system'. "Fuck them - I'll show 'em - pass me another Eccles cake" seems to be the prevailing dietary trend of the times.
Many people - women especially, it has to be said - seem to think a cake is an acceptable choice for a meal. Not a third course; not a treat; but an actual one-off option for a lunchtime intake of 'food'. I see it all the time. "Oh, I'm not really hungry. I'll just have a slice of gateau." There are plenty of eateries these days where the only things on the 'menu' are hot drinks and huge lumps of cake. The number of places where I can get the kind of decent lunch that I desire is getting lower and lower by the week. And there's no push-back from anyone else that might have a sensible attitude to all this because we're all too scared to say anything for fear of being accused of 'shaming' people.
I suppose the good thing is that - (if I may speak extremely here for a second) - the people following this new trend will all die much earlier, and the markets will change to suit the demands of those remaining, and then those of us interested in a healthy lifestyle will be left to enjoy a world dominated by salads and protein.
So I don't have to be angry, just patient...

RC 31-8-24

A compromise reached; a breakaway booked

After a bit more thought and a bit more consideration, I put an alternative plan to Philippa and it was accepted without debate! We are now having our holiday the first week of November. This means it won't clash with the busy half-term week at work and also means we will be away to celebrate Rian's 2nd birthday. That will annoy a few family members who would want to see him, and it means pulling Mathew out of school and risking a wee fine, but his headteacher is quite understanding and the family will just have to lump it. They can see him the week we get back - it's not as if he's old enough to know the difference, and anyway I think it's nice that birthdays stretch out instead of being a one-day affair.
I put the form straight in to Gavin, and he signed it off without hesitation. That probably wouldn't have happened if I'd tried for the last week of October, and I made a point of making the point that I had deliberately changed our plans to fit in with the work schedule. So we're sorted! Six nights away in a rather nice family-friendly hotel on the South coast. That might not sound overly exciting to some of you, but after a long Summer of working in the holiday trade, mostly on a caravan site, the idea of a small building with only a few select families in it is very appealing to me, I must say. We're very close to a swimming pool, that also has a soft-play area, so that's a couple of days entertainment sorted, and the hotel has a games room with lots of fun things for the little ones.
We're also discussing a foreign trip in February, but I'll leave that for now as it's purely hypothetical thus far...

RC 30-8-24

A way away

Philippa and I had a long chat about a holiday last night. We seem able to have these lovely chats at the moment, which is lovely. After what felt like months of weirdness and worry, we do seem to have settled onto an even keel and returned to something like the status quo. There is much less of an atmosphere and we are speaking kindly to each other, and about each other.
So, it looks likely that we'll be taking the boys away for the October half-term. That will be dependent on me being able to get away from work, but everything is in place for the Hallowe'en events, and we have capable staff who can step in and supervise, so I can't imagine there being an issue. But let's be honest - I'm at the whim of Gavin and his strange temperament, so it's just as likely (depending on his mood) that I might be sacked for my insolence in asking for a holiday or granted a month off with a smile and a wink. I just don't know, and so I'm wondering when best to put my request in.  Right now everything is packed to bursting, so he's enjoying the income and in a good mood, but he's also very busy. If I wait a month, he'll have more time spare to give it some thought but might be worrying about future finances. It's so difficult, it's almost like we're married!

RC 29-8-24

Canine a-no-no

My weird life has taken another unexpected turn. You remember Gruff? The runaway rottweiler who temporarily invaded our site and caused a bit of mayhem for the staff and visitors alike? Well I've been asked if I would like him as a pet.
I am not kidding.
His owner, a kindly (if confused) gentleman named Charles, came back to see me today and shocked me with the offer. I thought he was here to apologise again or to thank me for not calling the authorities or insisting the dog was destroyed, but no - he was trying very hard to pass him on to me. "The truth is he's a bit too much of a handful," he said, "I love him and he's great company, but the bastard can sniff out an open door in a second. He's even been out of a first-floor window and down off the porch roof. I'm gonna have to let him go, and you seemed to get on with him very well the other day so I thought I'd give you first refusal..."
Words, to be honest, failed me.
In theory, I'd love for the boys to have a nice pet at home, and we have certainly discussed the idea of some guinea pigs or maybe even a cat, but not until both sons are old enough to appreciate, enjoy and look after them, and certainly not a bloody great rottweiler that has a history of misbehaving. So I thanked Charles for his visit and his idea and told him I would put the word around and let people know the dog is available to a suitable home.
I wish Gruff all the very best for his future, but I certainly don't want to be part of it.

RC 28-8-24

Of challenges and cormorants

I appear to still be on target to upload a different number of blog postings in each month of the year. That will be a nice achievement, even though I've done it before.

We had a lovely day yesterday. We took advantage of my unexpected Bank Holiday off, and also of the fine weather, to avail ourselves of one of Suffolk's finest beaches, where there also happens to be the finest ice-cream I have tasted in many a year. There's a shop that makes their own gelato, and then they make their own ice cream from that gelato. It is a rare taste of Heaven, and makes me wonder what else could be manufactured in this doubling-up way that could lead to more culinary perfection. If venues can make gelato and then use that to make ice cream, can they also make soup and then use that soup to make curry? Can they make their own bread and then use that to make their own wedding cake? (Those aren't brilliant examples but I hope you see what I'm getting at).
Anyway, seeing Mathew's face when he took a first slurp of toffee gelato was a delight; and seeing the way he charged around the seafront chasing seabirds was a reminder of just how much sugar there is in these treats we buy for our children... Next time he's having a tomato.

RC 27-8-24

Keep it in today, R

I'm in work again today, for a change. Thankfully, it means I get tomorrow's Bank Holiday off as someone has asked me to switch around for a family event. It does make me wonder how I will make this job work when the boys are older and both at school. I barely get time at home as it is during the busy Summer months, but at least I know that they will both be there when I am, as they're not yet of an age where they are out and about with mates. Plus, as they're not full-time in education, we can take our holidays any time without interfering with their studies. That works lovely because everything is cheaper and quieter in April and October, and you get more choice of locations. Give it a few years, with them being 8 and 4, and I imagine I'll be getting pressure from the missus to take time off and take them away during July or August, which could be an issue when that's our peak period onsite. Juggling rotas to suit the domestic arrangements of my staff is already a nightmare as ninety per cent of them want the same weeks off and it always clashes with the times I really need them at the centres. Imagine trying to drop myself into that complicated equation without upsetting anyone and while also giving Philippa what she wants. I can foresee a future where I am Mr Unpopular wearing each of my hats - as father, husband and manager.
But thankfully that future is not imminent and it's certainly not an issue I need to be stressing about today. (Says me after typing 250 words on the topic already!) My only real concerns today need to be making sure we don't run out of slushie mix and finding out who keeps leaving chewing gum on the slide at the adventure playground. Three days running I've had parents complain about spoiled shorts and hygiene, so I'm starting to think it's deliberate.

RC 25-8-24

Of dates and dogs

Crazy to think that we are getting very close to the end of the Summer holidays. I've been so locked into 'dealing with each day' mode that I haven't noticed the weeks flying by, and suddenly we're on the cusp of September. Well - I say that - in reality there's still a week left in August, so the children are only two-thirds of the way through their break, so I'm not sure why I'm pining the departure of Summer just yet. But still - there's been a definite cooling-off of the air temperature, and I am certainly noticing the earlier onset of darkness in the evenings, so we're obviously closer to Autumn than Spring now.  Soon our mad busy period onsite will be behind us and we'll be wondering what to do with ourselves between tasks! (I say that now - give it a couple of months and I'll be delighted that it's quieter and wondering how the hell we survived another peak season!).
Anyway - dragging myself away from my online obsession with the weather (which I swear I hardly ever mention in conversation away from this blogsite) let me tell you of a fun incident today, that might have been a very different story if the outcome had been different, but was nevertheless fun to deal with.
We had a stray dog wandering around the site this afternoon. Might not sound that big an event, but it's not something that we ever normally encounter. The site is well enclosed and well protected, we have a strict no-pets policy, and we take great care to keep things like rodents at bay at all times too, so apart from the odd playful robin or annoying seagull, we're pretty much an animal-free zone. So I was quite surprised when I got a radio call to tell me there was a runaway rottweiler running around near the picnic area near the swimming pool. I think the fact that it was a rottweiler was what bothered people. If it was a toy poodle I doubt I'd have heard a murmur, but the fact that it was a recognisably 'possibly dangerous' breed meant middle-aged mums were wailing and crying and tearing their hair out and half the staff were shitting themselves about rabies. Anyway, the point is that there are now probably dozens of video clips trending around the internet of several people (including this writer) trying to corner the beast and attach a lead to it, while the happy bouncy object of our attention saw the whole thing as a jolly jape and a great game and shifted sideways and dramatically dipped and led us all a merry dance for close to an hour.
His name was Gruff, it transpired, and his owner had foolishly opened the back door of the car while trying to retrieve a roll-away bottle of Pepsi, allowing Gruff the necessary half-second to spring himself free and leg it down the nearest footpath to freedom, which happened to run alongside the edge of our site. He found his way to the main gate, where security say they were 'distracted by the duties of letting people on and off, which we weren't really hired to do' and trotted happily under the barrier and made himself at home by the swimming pool.
I mean, a lesser manager would be furious with people, but I found the whole thing amusing to watch back on the CCTV coverage and it broke the day up a treat, so I'm not complaining. And neither is anybody else, thank goodness, so it's just another story to tell and another day to remember, and not the apocalyptic child-massacring devil-dog encounter that a couple of mums were making it out to be at 3.15 this afternoon.

RC 24-8-24

A dip, after damp, delightful

It's been incredibly wet and windy the past two days, and for some reason I have found that a relief. I love Summer, and I love being hot, but it's been so nice to have a bit of a respite, and I feel pathetic for saying that after barely a month of good weather. I've been in the sea again today, which has also helped my mood, because it suddenly got out bright and beautiful this evening, which pretty much negates what I wrote in the first few sentences of this posting. Anyway, the point I was going to make before I changed tack on myself completely, is that when we have nice days it adds a bit of pressure to everything. We don't have many Summer days that are actually like Summer, so we all feel we have to make the most of them and we charge around instead of just enjoying it. And working in the holiday trade, I feel pressured more than most, as it's not just about me getting the benefits, it's about the families that have paid good money and want a chance to actually DO stuff while it's 20+ and sunny.
God, I've done more than 3,500 entries on this blogsite now - I wonder how many of them have been about the weather?

So, in other news, things have been very pleasant on the domestic front this week. Conversations have happened, fun evenings have been had, and we seem to have broken the atmosphere of weirdness by just refusing to engage with it and acting as if it never happened; which I think might be a good policy sometimes in a long marriage. There will always be occasional downturns, but you don't have to overanalyse and review them, you can just enjoy the fact that they've passed. If you keep revisiting them, surely it extends them? And normally it's just 'a thing' that hasn't been caused by any fault, and if you start trying to work out what went wrong, then someone has to be to blame, and then it becomes a different issue. If you can just accept that 'a thing' happened and be glad that you've both got through it and stayed together, isn't that better than dragging it up again and again and prolonging the pain?
Man, sometimes it amazes me that I'm NOT a successful marriage counsellor.

RC 23-8-24
2050 BST

a childish thought/a culinary question

Is rhubarb just sunburnt celery?

RC 23-8-24

Not a job for sociophobics

I can't imagine work ever being busier than it was today. I don't know what happened, really. Loads of families headed to the beach early in the day and yet the whole place seemed to be crowded. We seemed to have the site at maximum capacity plus about five hundred extra people. It was as if every car that arrived at check-in this week must have had a couple hiding in the boot, who climbed out once they were parked. And they all seemed to want to do exactly the same activities at exactly the same time, and to eat in the same place at exactly the same time. So we had to move staff around to keep on top of the catering and ended the day with everyone exhausted.
It was good, in a way. The place is designed to be busy, after all, and it's not as if anyone missed out on anything. The team pulled it all together and pulled each other through and we made it to the evening unscathed (apart from a bit of sunburn). And bloody hell the day went quickly!
And then I remembered I am on my own in the house tonight, so instead of rushing back I had a lovely swim in the sea and then a leisurely walk on the seafront. Being sweaty already, I did not fancy the thought of standing in front of a hot hob to make myself the fancied big stir fry, so I picked one up from a Chinese takeaway and now I am as full as a bloated pigeon. And there are still a few small spring rolls and the complimentary prawn crackers to get through... I may have to save them for breakfast.

RC 17-8-24

Relief?

Philippa and I managed to have a really nice chat last night, in bed. We may be frosty with each other in most rooms of the house and avoiding each other at the weekends, but we are at least still sharing the same bed at night, and yesterday we had a good chat.
Next weekend, it turns out, is not the 'time away from Rory' scenario that I had assumed it to be. In fact, she is visiting her friend Naomi, back in North Norfolk, on the occasion of her daughter's first birthday and it just made sense to stay over rather than have an unnecessary ninety-minute drive back. Rian is going with her, Mathew is staying with her parents, and she will collect them both on the way back, on Sunday evening.
So there you go - what do I know?

RC 13-8-24

Brighterer and Betterer

Today has been wonderful.
You might have noticed that the temperature has been almost tropical. Suffolk has been basking in beautiful sunshine and the tourists onsite are happy as a result of them enjoying the weather that they hoped they would get when they booked their stays in the first place. I imagine everyone assumes they might see some Summer when they plan a holiday in August, but it's not always a given in the UK, let's be honest. And I can't help feeling somehow responsible when they spend a week under drab skies and can't have the trip away they had dreamed of. Silly, I know. A little arrogant, even. But I can't help it. So seeing people smiling from ear to ear as the Suffolk sun beats down on them and their sprightly children really does make me feel better about myself.
Which is very welcome, at the moment, when my internal monologue and my homelife are conspiring to make me feel shitty and worthless.

RC 12-8-24

Questions I'm too tired to ask

The last time I felt this uncertain about my personal life was probably when I was at college and confused.
Philippa is going to 'stay with friends' next weekend, and I think any man would find that terminology worrying, regardless of their age, relationship status or state of their current homelife. We've hardly held hands in weeks, we've barely spoken in days, and last night I was given a cold 'I've arranged this without you' and no chance to ask any questions. It may be a perfectly innocent, pre-arranged trip that I had forgotten about (let's be honest - that is well within my scope of behaviour!) or it may just be a need for space away from a house full of boys, but it feels like an unnerving escalation of the problems between us and I really don't know how to react. I want to stamp my feet and get angry about it, I want to demand an explanation, and I also want to have a grown-up conversation about it and get a definite answer on things. But I also want to respect her needs and her wishes and let her find her own way through this difficult time.
And also, to be honest - more worryingly and more selfishly - I'm looking forward to not being near her for a few days. Which is a really horrible feeling.
That may just be a reaction to what she has planned, or it may just be me wanting to avoid the strained situation (rather than my wife herself) but it still feels horrible to admit.

RC 9-8-24

I'm taking this personally...

The BBC have started playing the adverts about their TV comedy shows during coverage of the Olympics on Radio 5 Live.
I am officially DONE with that corporation.

At least you won't have any more repetitive moaning blog posts about it this week.

So - in other news - work is hugely busy and utterly exhausting. It's my third (I think) Summer Holidays in this industry and every year it seems to get more taxing. In the quieter months, there's some weird mental resetting that happens, where my brain seems to make myself forget just how traumatic August can be, so that I can face doing it again the following year. I imagine it's similar to the way childbirth pain pales into insignificance once you get home with the baby. If that forgetting didn't happen, no-one would ever have any siblings, I suspect. Women would become mums once and then never let themselves be put in that position again. And in my case, if it wasn't for this selective amnesia, then no-one that likes vacations in Suffolk would ever have any staff to greet them.

And in other, OTHER news, Philippa has arranged to have a few days away without me...

RC 8-8-24

Le mon juste?

I have taken to watching a few highlights online, just to keep my Olympics curiosity satisfied, and I have to say that by far the most enjoyable event I've seen this week is the women's skateboarding. I can't even remember what it was called exactly, but I mean the one where they do a series of three runs around a skate park, throwing in as many tricks and turns and toss-abouts as they can, and then get marked by watching judges. There were eight of them in the final, and what I loved was the camaraderie among the competitors. They all genuinely wanted to win the gold, but they were also genuinely happy to see their rivals succeed. It was like a bunch of mates just hanging out together and supporting each other and edging each other on to loftier heights. The standard of what they were doing was exemplary, the excitement levels built and built (with 7 of the 8 achieving their highest scores with their final runs) and the commentary - by Tim Warwood, Mark Churchill and a lady whose name I didn't catch (and can't seem to find anywhere on the BBC website) - was nothing short of brilliant.
My only slight unease at the whole thing was the fact that most of them are in their early teens! Sky Brown - the British bronze medallist - is only 16, but has already been professional for more than three years, and has already suffered a torn MCL in her knee and a dislocated shoulder; all at the age when her body is still growing and developing and finding itself. One wonders what state they will be in physically as they approach their mid-twenties. They might be in worse condition than some of the old gymnasts that were put through too much trauma in their youth in their pursuit of excellence.
And shouldn't they all be concentrating on their studies, instead of swanning about in kneepads and sponsored apparel?
I think it's just my parental side kicking in, and wanting to protect them, but who am I to criticise?  If I was so skilled at something when I was 13 that people wanted to take me out of school and take me around the world, and the only negative side was a few injuries here and there and the threat of future arthritis, would I have objected? No, of course not, I'd have been rushing to the airport as quick as my skateboard wheels could get me there.

RC 7-8-24

Four years wait for four decent minutes...

I have stopped watching the Olympics on BBC TV. I love the occasion of the Games, but my enthusiasm has been eroded away by my dislike of the way it is covered. Yesterday, on at least 5 separate occasions, they paused live coverage to show a video about the 800m runner Keely Hodgkinson. FIVE TIMES. Her actual race last night lasted less time than the video they had made to promote it, and they showed that video 5 times. (and I wasn't watching continuously, so my suspicion is that it was played even more often than that). And when they are not promoting what they are showing later, they are advertising other output from the BBC, and trying to direct you to the iPlayer. If I wanted to be watching comedy, I wouldn't be watching sport, so I don't need to be constantly reminded that there are comedy shows available online. I'm also sick of hearing about 'the journey' that every single athlete has been on, and about their dead relatives who they want to dedicate their efforts to. I'm sorry, but EVERYONE has lost people they loved, and everyone has had to overcome difficult circumstances and situations to get to where they are. It's just life. Most of us just have to put it down to experience, we don't get to talk about our 'journey' on national television in an overlong interview while far more interesting sporting events are continuing (uncovered) behind us. And that's my MAIN annoyance - the main things that I would love to watch are being ignored while four overpaid 'experts' in a studio drone on about the race that just happened, or might be about to happen. And they give so much coverage to cycling, equestrian and swimming while things like hockey and archery are cut up into tiny slices and spread across different channels. Personally, I've seen enough dancing horses on display this week to last me a sodding lifetime.
I don't want to moan on and on, but that's just a few examples from a very long list of reasons why I have binned it from the telly. So, now, I have Radio 5 Live on in the background and their Olympic programming is utterly exceptional. Better analysis, better commentary, better presenters, wider scope of events talked about, and no annoying recap/highlights reels or cross-promotion adverts being forced on me every five minutes or so.

RC 6-8-24

Maybe I'll stay married after all!

Philippa 'had a go' at my neck and shoulder last night, and by Christ has it made a difference! I mean, the pain is still there, and is in fact much worse since she pulled me around mercilessly and pummelled me purple, but I've got much more movement and I don't feel as if someone has poured cement in the top of my right arm. I can move my head round to the right for the first time in 48 hours and lifting my right arm up doesn't make me wince. The girl did good! And she saved me the forty quid it would have cost to have one of the onsite 'body workers' in the spa sort me out, so everyone's a winner.

My enjoyment of the Olympics has been affected greatly by the annoyingly haphazard nature of the coverage. The BBC are doing that thing they do where they keep changing the channel that things are being shown on. I understand they want to cover as much as they can, and try to capture any British chances of medals, and make sure all the 'popular' athletes (by which I mean - ones with lots of Instagram followers) are on screen, but it would be nice if they would just start showing something and stick to it until it finishes. I was trying to follow the GB men's hockey team the other day and it started on the Red Button, then switched onto BBC1 for the third quarter, and then disappeared completely so they could show BMX freestyle and tennis. What about those of us who like hockey, and who don't have unlimited access to BBC websites while at work?
Honestly, if I paid my TV licence fee, I might be tempted to revoke it.

RC 1-8-24