And so, dear Jan, farewell...

The first month is done
We step bravely into Feb
and imminent Spring

Just a little sneaky Fri-ku for you there, to start things off on a poetic note.
The month, I have to say, really has flown by. I know we are told that, as we get older, time speeds up, but even allowing for that, and allowing for my age, January 2025 seems to have been particularly hurried. Barely a breath seems to have passed since we were watching the New Year's Eve fireworks, and now 1/12th of the calendar has already done its job.
Madness.
Anyway, I have very little of any note to report, so let's top and tail this posting with another little burst of Fri-ku; this one being about how things have changed since the start of the month...

It's light after five
Donald Trump is President
I am forty-one

RC 31-1-25

Yep, same old topic again...

As another Blog Challenge possibility - I might consider posting exactly 20 postings per month throughout 2025. It's a revisit of an old idea, but one that gave me great satisfaction when I achieved it, and this time I'd be aiming for one extra posting per month than last time which, for maths fans out there, would mean 12 more total postings than the last time I did this (with exactly 19 each month) for a total of 240, which is a nice round number, which is also satisfying.
Trouble is, it could easily be affected by things that are out of my control. I don't know how busy I'll be at work, I don't know what the internet connection will be like when we're on holiday, I don't know how likely it is that I'll be ill and incapacitated, etc etc. I also don't know how long my enthusiasm will last and how much motivation I'll have, so it's a tricky one.
Maybe the answer to this whole 'What Will My Blog Challenge Be?' riddle will be this: I'll just spend the whole year trying to decide what my blog challenge is going to be, without ever actually landing on an idea, and I'll just keep writing about it every day, giving you a whole year of the kind of disappointing drivel you've been putting up with for the past 3 days....

RC 30-1-25

A Story Online?

Following on from yesterday's scribblings (yes, I'm still thinking about a possible Challenge) I might have a go at writing a story, where each daily posting is a new chapter, and the whole thing would build up as you read it. That would give me a focus to my writing, rather than just having me spout stuff out as-and-when I felt like it. It would also mean you'd be reading less of my inane waffling and seeing more worthwhile content (in theory). I think I thought about doing this a few years ago, around Christmastime. Or maybe I was just thinking about thinking about it, then thought it was a thought not worth thinking, and binned it. There is a memory, though, somewhere in the recesses of the corners of my tortured mind, where I had the idea to write a Christmas story, and publish one chapter per day in December. And then, like most of my grand schemes, it spluttered and died before it even left the first station.
I've been thinking about an idea for a murder mystery story though, so maybe that's what I should get on with now. Maybe I commit to compiling chapters each day and posting them straight up for you to read. I could do that in February, which I know doesn't give me much time for plotting and planning, but maybe that's a good thing. If I HAVE to post a chapter regularly, then I HAVE to get on with it and write it, whether I am feeling a flash of inspiration or not. And maybe that commitment would be good for me. And maybe, at the end of the month, there'll be a complete story that I have created, with a likeable central character and a satisfying denouement. And maybe I could then sell it on as a book and make a few quid.
And maybe I should stop using the phrase 'And maybe' so much in this blog today.
Anyway, it's an idea worth considering....

RC 29-1-25

Four Days Til Feb!!!

I am aware that I still haven't set myself a Blog Challenge for 2025. I'm not bothered by it, but it seems to be a January tradition for Rory that I get the urge to make my life harder by committing to something that will be difficult for me to maintain for 12 months. So here I am, thinking about ways I can make this blogsite 'more interesting' for the reader. I've done the 'Month Where Each First Letter Of The Titles Spells A Phrase' so I could, I suppose, try and keep that going for the rest of the year. Trouble is, I've already posted 17 times without thinking about that, so that one's a no-go already. (unless MMAAPQSIPBFB4PDSS is a word I'm not familiar with...).
In a crazy moment last night I did think about writing everything in rhyming couplets, but can you imagine how much work would be involved? Sometimes it's almost impossible for me to string a few coherent sentences together, if it all had to be in poetic form I'd be scuppered. I might have a go at composing a few that contain absolutely no punctuation whatsoever but then I worry that it will make me look like an absolute madman and will be so awkward to understand as to be virtually unreadable so maybe that's one idea that I will cast to the winds like a fisherman casting a lure.
Maybe I make them all exactly 250 words in length? Like this one is....

RC 28-1-25

Some random, dark, insomniac thoughts

Is there anyone more arrogant, egotistical and self-indulgent as Robbie Williams?
Donald Trump is widely hailed as a narcissist, but at least he is - in his own way and in his own head - trying to improve things for other people. Williams is just a self-serving child who has ridden other people's talent to get the attention he constantly craves.

I really love tennis, but it's hard to enjoy watching a Grand Slam men's final when one of the competitors might well be a drug cheat and the other one might well have been guilty of domestic violence.

I love the NFL, and Super Bowl Night is one of my favourite annual events, but I just can't watch another big game involving the Kansas City Chiefs. So I'm making other plans for Feb 9th, thanks.

RC 27-1-24

So glad I'm not single

I really am perplexed and baffled when I hear people talking about relationships these days. I'm not sure romance exists anymore. I'm not sure emotional engagement exists anymore. I'm not even sure love exists anymore, not in the way it used to. People seem to approach a new partner like they're recruiting for a position at work - wanting a list of previous encounters, looking up as much information as possible, and drawing up a list of positive and negative traits. What happened to accepting people as they are and letting love happen over time? And then working together to find a way to fulfil what's best for both of you?
It all seems so selfish now.
It's about what I WANT, not about what WE NEED.
Listening to people talk around me, the conclusion seems to be that the only way to survive the harsh world of dating is to be harsher and harder than everyone else. You navigate your way through the fields of selfishness by being selfish yourself. Once you've been hurt once you refuse to let anyone in. Take what you want, then have a go at the other person for not behaving caringly. Do unto others as you have had done unto you, then chastise them and reject them for behaving that same way.
Is this really the future society we are creating?

Maybe it's been heading this way for a while and I've just been sheltered from it. I've never really enjoyed talking to people about their relationships, and I've been with Philippa for a long time now, so maybe I haven't noticed the deterioration. But it's harder and harder to avoid now. Everyone seems to be single and 'care-free' but in turmoil. So I can't avoid it. I'm hearing about it all the time. There seems to have been a collective turning away from the sweet side of romance and now everyone is missing it, without realising it. People are so intent on fitting in with the trendy 'life by hook-up app' lifestyle that they are too scared to try something different, and they're not enjoying it. I may be old-fashioned with these things, but I also judge things based on what I see. And what I see right now is lots of people who criticise the old days while obviously wishing they were in them. Binning someone as soon as you disagree with them is a sure-fire way to long-term loneliness. And everyone's doing it, and everyone seems to be unhappy with it. But everyone's too scared to be different; to ask for something different; to be honest about wanting love rather than gratification.
It makes me very, very sad.

Or maybe I'm just feeling sad today and this is what I'm attaching it to.
Anyway, thanks for reading this mad-minded waffle...

RC 24-1-25

Don't chase it away; hug it

I am facing that weird post-birthday slump that always seems to affect me. I don't know if it comes from a childhood depressive spell when I just struggled from the comedown after the high of a celebration, or whether it's just a natural process that everyone goes through annually, but I feel very low and lethargic and as if I have little to look forward to. That's not true, I know, but that's what the naughty little voice in my ear is telling me. And don't panic about my sanity and call the wagon - when I say 'voice in my ear' I'm not hearing voices, I am talking about that silly internal critic we all seem to have that delights in putting us down and making us feel useless. We all have one. I have taken to calling my 'Cornelius'. He is an overweight elf who wears a monocle, and I imagine myself shutting him in a big suitcase and stuffing him in a shed somewhere so I can't hear him or acknowledge his bullshit. But still, sometimes, he resurfaces and makes his thoughts my own, and I engage with them. But I'm hoping that writing about it here will take away its power and I can enjoy the rest of my day. Accepting a low mood is better than trying to fight it, and I know I'll feel better when I'm playing with Mathew tonight. So there you go - I have got something to look forward to - a Lego evening with my eldest son. :)

RC 23-1-25

Pleasantly surprised

Well, Trump has been back in the White House for a full day and the world still seems to be turning, so that's something.

Philippa astonished me this morning by saying that she is glad she is not pregnant again. You may remember that we had quite a tricky time last year when she was pushing to try for a third child, but now she is happy with how her worklife and homelife are and says she doesn't think going through the physical effort of pregnancy again while looking after the energetic offspring that we already have would be much fun. I have to say I am relieved as I thought the thought might still be festering away below the surface. I have to say, too, that I am full of respect and love for her for the way she admitted that it would have been a bad idea. I do still think it will pop up again, and that's ok, but it's nice that I don't have to tackle it right now. And I'm not completely against the idea, I guess. I have to remember that I have two sons, while she doesn't have a daughter, and I think the bond is different when you share the same sex as your children. I'm probably not supposed to say that these days, but it's true. So the thought of her having that kind of relationship with a daughter of her own does cause twinkles in my heart at times, when I allow it too.
I refer you now to the last line of my blog posting from Monday...

And to complete this day of wonderments - I am going to get a small pay rise in May! And when I say 'small' I mean 'so small as to make no real significant change to my monthly wages'. But still - a raise is a raise, and I welcome it. Thanks, Gavin.

RC 21-1-25

41 is a cool number, right?

Well, despite my moaning post yesterday morning, the weekend was pretty much wonderful. A lovely little 'drinks and nibbles' afternoon at work on Friday, where I provided some fun snacks and invited any member of staff from all departments to pop in for a plateful, then two great days of family stuff, topped off by both my sisters turning up yesterday for an unexpected, planned-by-Philippa evening soiree. Mathew was in heaven, Sophie and Hannah were both on good form, and I must confess that a small tear or two trickled down the cheek of the Rory at the thought of all the effort that had been made for my benefit. Middle-age must be making me sentimental.
It was so lovely, though. We just don't get together often enough, us siblings, and when we do, it's always glorious, hilarious and joyous. We talked about making these gatherings more frequent, but it's never as easy as you want it to be. One of us works in care, one of us works in leisure, and the other works in education, but her partner is in the church, so that makes Sundays rather awkward. That's partly why last night meant so much to me - I know that Hannah had to be away from the evening service so she could pop to ours.
We must find ways of making it happen though. I love spending time with my sisters, they always seem buoyed by seeing their nephews, and the boys absolutely love them both and love seeing someone different in the house. Rian in particular seems particularly taken by Auntie Hannah. And she looks incredibly comfortable with a young child on her lap, it has to be said. So much so that I am starting to wonder whether there might be a little plan in her head somewhere about becoming a mum herself. I wouldn't dare raise the topic with her, but there were a few weighted looks between her and Philippa, and several questions about the logistics of caring for youngsters, and they seemed to come from a perspective of personal possibility rather than just friendly intrigue.
Does that last sentence make sense? I'm quite proud of the wording, but may not have conveyed the meaning I wanted to. So let me try again - I think Hannah was asking questions because she wanted to know what it would be like for her rather than just asking what it is like for us. Or, to put it another way, she was acting like an interested party rather than a concerned friend. It was like when someone asks me 'what's it like to be a manager?' and I can tell whether they are just making conversation, or if they are trying to ascertain whether they'd enjoy the position themselves. I got the impression that Hannah has an inkling to create life herself, rather than just asking us about parenthood to be nice to us. She was like a potential dog owner, sniffing around for pertinent information from someone who already has rottweilers; or a young boy interested in fishing who chats with an experienced angler on the riverbank about the realities of the pastime before committing to buying a rod.  She reminded me of someone who has seen a nice Volvo for sale, but has never owned one before, so has joined a few online 'Volvo drivers' chat groups so they can find out more about the way it drives.
I'm tying myself in knots now, so I'm going....

RC 20-1-25

Birthday Eve Blues?

I try to keep the outside world out of this blog. I try to give you a break from all that other crap and give you something to distract you. But sometimes I have to share stuff with you here or it rattles around in my head and debilitates me, and I am genuinely terrified by what's happening in America right now.
I may be misreading things and letting my pessimism overwhelm me, but it looks to me like the country is being taken over by the very sort of people that government is supposed to protect you from.
I'm sure it's happened before. The worlds of business and politics have always been tied more closely in the States than here, but I worry that this might set a precedent for the world and that we'll be facing something very similar in Britain very soon.
I'm sure it's happened before and I'm sure we'll all survive. But it might be a tough road ahead, and things might happen that we all have to face the aftermath of.
And what a joyous thing it is that all this gets to be instigated with Trump being inaugurated on my birthday...

RC 19-1-25

First Fri-ku of 2025

Twenty Twenty Five
Another year to endure
Twelve more months of 'stuff'

Hope is a burden
Pain can be a sedative
Love is a relief

The Bard of Avon
wrote sonnets, plays and poems
Then, like all, he died

I'm in a strange mood
My mind wanders like a cat
Then pounces on me

January walks
Can be icy underfoot
So please be careful

RC 17-1-25

Birthday weekend ahoy

Only 4 more sleeps until another year gets added onto the meaningless number that is attached to my existence. I am celebrating by getting my eyes tested. Boy, us guy in our 40s really know how to push the boat out and make the most of our anniversaries... Philippa has arranged a mystery meal on Saturday night, for just me and her. That will be so nice as one of the things that came up when we were working through our 'issues' last year was that we never take time out to just be together as a couple. Mathew and Rian are of an age now where they can be left comfortably with others, and we have a long list of good friends and loving relatives who are willing to babysit and get some extra time with them, so why not take advantage of their offers and go out more? So, yes, I have been told to 'iron a shirt for a change' and make myself look as close to respectable as I can get, and be prepared for a fulsome feast at a nearby establishment of some kind or other. Which will be lovely.
On Sunday, I might take Mathew to watch 'Moana 2'. We haven't watched it yet, but he is rather obsessed with the first one, and is rather excited to see the second. 'Moana' is a great film, I agree, but there are only so many times I can stand hearing Dwayne Johnson singing 'You're Welcome' before I want to staple my own ears shut; and as any parent knows, children have an incredible ability to watch the same thing over, and over, and over again without it becoming tiresome to them. So I'm a bit concerned about exposing him to a new raft of songs from Lin-Manuel Miranda that I might then have to have on a repetitive playlist every time we go out in the car.
But - y'know - I keep saying I want to get my boys interested in movies, and I do love going to the cinema, so what the Hell.... I'll just get my own back by playing 'Blackbird' by The Beatles 27 times on my birthday.

RC 16-1-25

plague?

It's been so bright and beautiful at times this week that you could almost forget it's Winter. (Until you go outside and realise that the air is as cold as the contents of a freezer on the moon.)
An alarmingly large number of people within my work and social circles seem to be in the grip of a terrible bug. And by 'terrible' I mean 'lasting for about 10 days, then disappearing for a few days, then coming back again and making you feel like you're on the rapidly sloping downhill to death'. I remember them 'experts' saying that we'll probably have some very unpleasant viruses around for a few years as our immune systems get back up to speed after the whole, y'know, 'Covid' experience. We weren't mixing for months on end and so we weren't being exposed to the usual flus and colds and so now, for a while, our bodies are likely to be hit harder. I didn't really think much of it at the time but I seem to be seeing the evidence myself this Winter.  Coughs that linger for three months or more, seemingly fit-and-well people being laid low for days on end, and paracetamol flying off the shelves like lager during a rugby world cup. Thank God I seem to have kept clear....

RC 15-1-25

It's the hope that kills ya...

I have to say that it's nice to be enjoying the NFL play-offs without the added worry about how well my guys will do and whether they will advance. The team I support decided to play this year as if they were strangers thrown together at the last minute without having the rules of the game explained to them, and because of that it means we have no post-season football for the first time in a while. And I have to say, it's nice! This January is surprisingly preferable to last year. Having to deal with the disappointment of a lost season is a lot easier than having to deal with the trauma of watching them lose in the Super Bowl for the third time in a decade.

RC 14-1-25

some random things i have thought and written down recently

I am really enjoying watching old reruns of TV programmes by Guy Martin. He's completely insane, and not exactly slick as a presenter, but damn he is watchable, and his unwavering disregard for his own safety is charming and rather captivating.

I'm still getting used to how dull and empty the house looks without a Christmas tree in the corner of the living room.

Is there a sadder job than putting away the Christmas decorations for another year?

A week til I'm 41. Jesus...

It is cheering me immensely to see how light it is at 4.30pm now.

And we're already halfway through January (near enough, anyway). March is on its way!

It is really good for my mental health to know that I have a holiday booked.  I intend to remember that, when people start showing up at my workplace for their holidays.  I'm there all the time, but for them it's a chance to unwind and relax and forget their homelife woes, and I want to be more mindful of that this year.

RC 13-1-25

quick thoughts on Age and Experience

This might be down to the fact that I am rapidly racing towards another birthday (my 41st) or it might be down to the calendar recently turning over to another year of existence, but I've been thinking about how ridiculous it is that we tend to group ourselves as humans based on what our age is. We tend to tailor our views on someone dependent on how long they have lived, rather than HOW they have lived.
It causes so many psychological issues and it's all invented. It's meaningless. Who cares how many times you've travelled around the Sun? It's out of our hands anyway. And someone of 24 could have gained far more knowledge and insight into the world than someone who is 57, so why does the number mean more than the life behind it?
Just something to think about...

RC 12-1-25

Poem inspired by anglers on the beach

The fisherman stands.
His line penetrates the darkness.
Waves throw spray around his feet.
His unseen prey somewhere in the shallows.
Moonlight halos the clouds.
His mind is clear of intrigue.
Cold mingles with his bones.
His concentration unfaltering.
Breeze whips sand at his ankles.
His father's ghost lingers.
Nothing caught, but memories woken.
His satisfaction complete.

RC 9-1-25

A (slightly late) New Year poem

Another start.
A new day, as fresh as recently laundered linen,

greets us with open arms and questions.
Paths ahead await the fall of feet,

as, tentative, we approach and attempt.
Reflections done, we promise more.
This diet will work where that one did not.
This year will swell where others have swooned.
This time my words will not wilt and wither.
This time... this time... this time...

Another year.
That blooms and blossoms and bellows;

that crashes and carries and cries.
A thousand chances to change,

a thousand ways to wander.
The peach may be uneaten,

stalled by the comfort of normality;

or the risks may be ignored,

outweighed by the weight of the prize.
It will pass, somehow, as always.

RC 6-1-24

Another resolution...

I remembered last night - there is one thing that I want to vow to do less of in 2025. And that is to stop carrying my phone around without locking the screen first. I sent so many people nonsensical messages and inappropriate emojis last year, and there are only so many times you can say 'sorry - I'm technically inept' before they start to question seriously why you sent them another aubergine picture in response to a message about a sick relative.

RC 5-1-24

My non-resolution resolutions

I guess it's time for the annual 'What Will My Blog Challenge Be This Year?' blog...
In 2024, I managed to post a different number of postings in each month, which feels a bit lame now as I've done that one before. With young children in the house it's hard to commit to anything too taxing as I just don't know what my physical and mental availability will be day by day. Little people need attention, and little things can cause big distractions and disruptions. So if I say something like 'I will post every other day throughout the year, without deviation from that plan' I am setting myself up for failure. I think, at the moment, I'd just like to leave things as they are and drop you some missives as and when it feels appropriate, rather than pressuring myself to achieve something that will end up feeling empty and unfulfilling anyway.
As far as other plans for the upcoming 12 months - I don't really have any. I've never been one for sweeping New Year changes or goal-setting stupidity, so I don't see why I would start now I'm in my 40s. I would like to be a good dad, and not let work tiredness affect my relationship with my boys at home. I would like to support Philippa as much as possible in her efforts to get her therapy sessions working to the extent that she can give up other work. And I'd like to enjoy my own worklife without trying to reinvent things and without letting Gavin's occasional mad schemes get in the way of a successfully-running business. I've been there long enough now to feel confident in what I'm doing, and everything runs smoothly now if we just follow previous procedures and let it all unfold naturally. So, if I have a resolution at all, it's to 'leave well enough alone' and keep things very simple.

RC 4-1-25

My 18th year of blogging. Jesus...

Well, 2025 has come crashing around our ears rather forcefully.  I've had car trouble, we had to call an emergency plumber, and Mathew has been hit by a horrible sickness bug. So, to take those things in turn - I was on my way to work when my car decided to stall and then refused to start again. I still don't know what the problem was, but apparently the Computerised Anti-Inflammatory Bungle Clip had short-circuited the Effluential Malefluent Gangle Knob and this is turn meant that the Gear-driven Open-ended Cosh Bend wouldn't function. Or something as ridiculously sounding as that. I really don't understand these things, but thankfully other people do, and so a quick trip to the only mechanics that was open and a quick exchange of cash and a quick change of a fuse or two and everything was up and running again. The sudden cold spell then caused an old pipe under our sink to rupture, and even though it was a tiny pinprick of a hole, the pressure of the water had it spouting out like a fountain and rapidly soaking the kitchen floor. So we had to turn everything off and wait for a visit from George, our friendly local 'cheap as chips' plumbing expert, who, to be fair, was friendly and local and not as pricey as he might have been, considering it was the day after New Year's Day. And then to complete our hat-trick of woes, our eldest child spent most of last night vomiting like a teenager after a six-pack of cider. Parenthood brings many challenges, and we learn so much about ourselves in the process, but surely nothing compares to the fun of dealing with a young 'un whose body seems intent on vacating its innards in liquid form out of any available hole in a 12-hour period. Thank God for bleach and Dettol, I say.
So yeah - an inauspicious start to the year, and we're just hoping our January bad luck has all been spent in the first few days, and now we can look forward to a month of positive, healthy, non-expensive, non-messy events.
May I take this chance to wish you all a successful, prosperous, sexy '25. And don't forget that time is ultimately a meaningless concept conceived by Mankind as a way to force some kind of order on a crazy, nonsensical world of existence.

RC 3-1-25