A Garden Visitor

We had a visit this afternoon from a furry little creature, Mr Hedgehog. Luckily I managed to keep our Springer Spaniel away from him and watched as he took an interest in my tomato plant and then scurried-off around the side of the house. I dare say he's now decorating the road surface outside our home but I like to think he is exploring somewhere safe or has found somewhere snug and safe to settle down for the night...
Wherever you are, stay safe Mr Hedgehog and do call again.

Remembering

It is of course a special day, one of those days that will always exist. And that's important, for we are a country of tradition after all. In a way, it's the tradition and routine that holds everything together. In this time of turmoil and worry, the traditions and events we hold dear somehow serve to keep everything together. A sort of glue that keeps everything in its place.
I really think that in tough times, we turn to tradition and the things that are really important for support. It's something to grab hold of and hold onto in tough times.
I am always moved by the events that mark our period of remembrance here in the UK. We do things well here. We may not be the best at making things any more and our industries are a mere shadow of what they used to be, but we are certainly masters of ceremony.
It is fair to say that the act of remembrance this year is perhaps far stronger than ever. The recent conflicts in Iraq and Afghanistan have added to the list of fallen young men and women and those who have been wounded, some severely. I can never begin to understand what it would be like to lose someone close, but I do know that it would be impossible to carry on if anything happened to my son. The loss is enormous and total in its effect.
For the first time in many years, I do feel the young people of today are able to relate more closely to these events. They are not just remembering those who gave their lives in the past conflicts and World Wars, often symbolised by old sepia worn photographs, but they are remembering many not much older than themselves lost in the current fields of conflict. The losses are not just from a time of long ago, they are current.
Lest we forget...

Comfort Zones

The first part of this month has certainly been manic. Europe seems to be slowly destroying itself, Occupy London protestors have setup camp at St Paul's Cathedral, the economy of this country and many others are stagnating and we saw a devastating accident on the M5 motorway which claimed the lives of seven people. The economic catastrophe is one that closely mirrors my own. I am in debt and heading for financial ruin if nothing changes in the next few months. I wonder like many if the economies of Europe will ever recover. All we seem to read about is how much debt each country is in and how much more money they are borrowing to pay it off. But surely it is exactly the same as me using a credit card to pay off my debt. All it amounts to is moving debt from one place to another. It never gets paid off, it just gets worse. So what a mess and what needs to be done? Have the Occupy London protestors got it right? Is capitalism a failed system? The richer get richer and the poorer get poorer. How much longer can we go on like this and how much more can people stand before they start looking for a way out? Isn't this how radical political groups seize power? There seems absolutley no alternative but to begin looking for something different and I echo some of the things I have heard from those protesting in London. Maybe they are right.
As we approach Christmas, the pressure increases. There is enormous financial pressure this year on families up and down the land. If we are in any way typical of a UK family then I extend my sympathy and more importantly my empathy. People are looking for cheaper alternatives, ways to make the pound in their pocket go further than ever and to settle for second best. I know this as the things we have on eBay are selling. In the past we have struggled to attract any level of interest. Now, things are different. People are desperate and probably like me wonder what the future holds. I am frankly fearful of where we are heading. When your dreams are constantly better than reality, you know things are bad. The waking up each morning and the realisation that reality really is that bad. It's not good. I worry for my son. What will things be like for him and can I tell him with any confidence that he has a wonderful future ahead of him? The truth is I cannot. I would be misleading him. Luckily he's not old enough to know what's going on around him. We put on a brave face and try to act as if nothing's wrong. He'll have a marvellous Christmas and he'll get all the toys he's asked for. This year, it's all about him and so it should be.
So where do comfort zones come in? Well I am out of my comfort zone and I guess this is true also for many thousands of people. The feeling of knowing that I have £10 or £20 in my wallet, that the bills are all taken care of and that this will be home next year, all things that provide comfort and security. That is no more and I think it's fair to say that no one really feels as secure as they did a year ago. Many are wondering (and worrying) if they will have their job next year. The people providing those jobs are wondering of they can continue paying salaries and offering wage increases.
So I, the people I know and the family of Europe are all out of the comfort zone. The question has to be not how long it will last but how long can it last...
Better news next time?

Hallowe'en

There's always something quite mystical about this time of year. For children, it's a great excuse to dress up as monsters, witches, ghosts and goblins. We're dressing our son up and visiting family. He's dressed as a skeleton with a scary mask. Tesco were selling costumes for just £2 today so we grabbed a bargain. Regardless of age, I still think it's possible to be a little spooked. I remember driving through the country lanes in previous years and seeing in the darkness children dressed as witches and the like. It spooked me then and still does now.
So the pumpkins are calved out and the faces etched. Luckily I managed to find some candles so they'll be lit later and placed in the window. I do like this time of year. Hallowe'en wouldn't be quite the same without a creepy movie but since having our son, my wife won't watch them. It's a shame really. Of course I was the one hiding behind a cushion each time we watched one.
It was great to see so many people out and about, dressed-up in all manner of creepy costumes and enjoying themselves. That's what Hallowe'en is all about I think. 

What on Earth is going on at Tesco Holbeach...? Half the carpark is being dug-up and resurfaced and the inside of the store is a complete mess. There was nothing wrong with the surface before now so quite why it's a construction site, I don't know. And why not do it overnight or at the weekend?

Is it just me or are the Christmas TV ads appearing earlier and earlier each year? I don't want to begin thinking about it yet. It'll all be down to my wife to organise and pay for again. It's not fair and I wish I could tell her to sit back and relax as everything's taken care of, but it isn't going to happen. We need a miracle, pure and simple.

It looks like we've gotten away with it this year... not one trick or treat'er! We used to put a sign on the door saying 'baby asleep' but everyone knows our son is at school now.

Goodbye October. You'll be remembered for your weather and for the removal of Muammar Gaddafi.

A New Season

Today is the first day of Winter. The clocks went back last night 1 hour and you get that strange feeling as if the time isn't right each time you look at the clock. It'll take a while to get used to but we'll all have to get used to the darker late afternoons for some time to come. This year though, Winter seems to fill people with dread. We've been warned to expect a severe Winter with snow, ice and cold. Problem is, it's still quite mild. We're being tricked into a false sense of security and the snow and ice will no doubt catch us all out again - as it seems to every year despite the warnings and countless predictions. Maybe it's what it is to be British...?

I find myself using analogies quite a lot, especially to describe situations. I find them very useful and an excellent way of enabling others to understand. For instance, I would describe my current situation as being likened to a train heading towards the buffers at the end of a long line. Each day, the buffers draw closer and the train shows no sign of slowing down. A set of points could save the train if they switched, but they don't. An injection of cash or a win of some kind could slow the train or stop it completely, but it doesn't. Or the buffers could be removed and replaced with more track, in effect giving me more time. I love analogies.

It's Hallowe'en tomorrow. It's the latest 'festival' to become over commercialised here in the UK. I'm amazed at how much has appeared in the shops aimed at youngsters - costumes, make-up, black cats, broomsticks, pumpkins and decorations. We bought my son a witches costume the other day. He's going to wear it tomorrow afternoon and visit family. I expect they will make a fuss of it at school tomorrow. Oh how his week off has flown by... It will soon be firework night and already rockets can be heard in the evening popping in the distance. As if anyone has the spare cash to spend on them. Apparently my in-laws are planning a firework party of sorts next weekend. They did one last year which was quite pleasant. Of course it's all for the youngsters really but I do confess to enjoying it somewhat.

In the news this last week has been Europe and a rescue plan to prevent the Euro from going bust. A vote for an EU referendum was quashed earlier in the week which could have seen a vote for whether we stay in the EU. And the week ended with the very sad news that Sir Jimmy Savile had passed away. For many youngsters nowadays, he will mean little to them but for me and many others my age, Jimmy Savile was part of our Saturday evening for many a year. The opening and closing credits of Jim'll Fix It symbolised fish fingers, crispy pancakes or perhaps bath-time for so many youngsters wishing that perhaps one day their dreams would come true and that someone would fix it for them.

I've watched Night Mail and I am now watching Terminus while I type this. I say watching it, it's playing on another monitor to the side of me. Terminus is one of the most fantastic films ever made and launched its director John Schlessinger into his prestigious film career.

My son is making cakes and they are now beginning to bake in the oven. What a wonderful smell...

I may be heading toward teaching. My lack of sufficient funds prevent me from gaining my PSV license and I really am well and truly stuck in a rut at the moment. I have been contacted by RDS who provide courses for would-be teachers and this may be a route I will take. As I may have mentioned before now, teaching is just about the only other thing I can see myself doing with any confidence. I've done a little in the past and really enjoyed it. The problem nowadays is the requirement for recognised teaching qualifications regardless of what experience or skills you possess.

I am adding a large extension to my friend's train layout. The plan is for a new branch line to circle a harbour and fishing village. The line will rise steadily until it is high enough to cross an existing line and then be carried on a bridge across a small town eventually connecting with the other end of the layout. I can't help but wonder if I've bitten off more than I can chew with this one. It's certainly ambitious and I've no idea if it will work.
I do enjoy my time working on the layout. It takes me away briefly from the stresses and strains of reality. It's a means of escape and I can immerse myself in the world of OO and 1/76th scale models. More importantly for me, it's something I have built and it's something I'm proud of.

A Last Trip to the Beach Before Winter

Yesterday we visited our 'local' beach at Hunstanton. It's somewhere we go quite often as it's a relatively short drive and an ideal place to take our son and springer spaniel. It also has its own climate. This time it was pleasantly warm and I actually felt quite overdressed in my fleece top and winter coat. The beach was busy with people making most of the relative warmth and bright sunshine. Some were on the sand sunbathing and relaxing, others were in the water. The tide was coming in and depositing shells and seaweed on the shoreline. We collected some of the shells we found so my son could make a picture with them.
It seemed as if every dog walker in the area was on the beach taking advantage of the huge playground of sand and water. Our dog seems to attract others of all shapes, sizes and breeds. She's a flirt really but soon sits firmly down at the first sign of any unwanted attention.

We walk to the cliffs and rocks. This is a fascinating part of the beach and the cliffs show the various layers of compacted rock indicating periods in time gone by. Apparently they are a geological recording of thousands of years and have enormous importance amongst the archaeological and natural science community. It's easy to see why. You cannot but marvel in awe at these rock giants. At their base are huge shattered rocks that over time have broken away and fallen to the beach through natural erosion.
Hunstanton is one of those places that fit into the category of 'just right'. It has everything a seaside resort should have and easily satisfies all tastes. The only thing that lets it down is the extortionate parking charge.
No visit to the seaside is complete without fish and chips. It's all locally caught at Hunstanton. You can see the little fishing boats all the time. There's nothing to beat eating them on the seafront, and that's what we did. A perfect end to a perfect afternoon.

The clocks change this coming Sunday. We gain an hour. But it will start getting dark at 5pm and the mornings will see the sun appear that much later. I actually don't mind the dark afternoons and evenings. It's the final sign that the seasons have changed and that Winter is finally here. Evenings are all the more special and it's good to look forward to home with its energy-saving lights and Economy 7 heating. In this pollution-free, energy saving age it is good to know that we can still have a fire of wood or coal. There's something a little rebellious about lighting a fire. I wonder if one day they will be banned? There have been smokeless areas across the UK for years. An open fire is one of those luxuries we're fortunate enough to enjoy, one of the few liberties the EU hasn't taken away from us... yet. Ah, Europe... now there's a topic for discussion! Not right now though.

The All-Clear

This morning I'm with my wife at the breast screening clinic. It's purely routine stuff but one can't help feeling a little worried. My view is that it's simply not possible for us to suffer any further bad luck and I try to reassure my wife that nothing out of the ordinary will be discovered. I don't know what effect my reassurance has, but probably very little. As I sit waiting while my wife is prodded and poked I am struck by how basic the waiting area is.

My wife appears soon after and tells me the doctor who examined her didn't find anything suspicious. That in itself was reassuring. He wanted a mammogram doing just to be sure and it wasn't long before we were ushered to another waiting room in the breast scanning dept. 

I am drawn to the radiation warning signs and find myself worrying more about the number of roentgens my wife will receive and what percentage of her normal yearly dose she will receive. We didn't wait long before my wife was taken into a room containing some space-age looking equipment. Sat in the waiting room I could just make out some sounds of motors and beeps. I'd watched a This Morning special on breast awareness the other day with my wife so we both knew what to expect. I do hope we get the results today. The chap who has to look at the scans hadn't arrived yet so we had to wait. I think it's the waiting that's the worst part. It would be so much better if they told you there and then. After another short wait while a report was prepared, we were sent back to the waiting room we had come from to wait for the results. The waiting room was quite busy, some of the people being those who were with us at the start. It's all about waiting. One doctor to fifty patients. The maths is easy.

A radio plays out the local station KLFM. It's strangely out of place here. The tunes are jolly and I find it quite irritating and in a way disrespectful. The only other sounds are from the staff discussing their shifts and lunch breaks. Old worn magazines are flicked from page to page. They are out of date and their news known and digested countless times. But they will still be there next year, and probably the year after if they remain intact.

The waiting room is now quite full. They are playing Queen on the radio. So out of place for a breast clinic waiting room.

There is an air conditioning unit in the corner of the room. It looks like a poor attempt at a Dalek or cheap space alien. It has pipe sticking out of it at all angles with a large pipe forced through a window to the outside. It looks as if it's been added by someone in haste who can no longer endure the oppressive hospital heat and has been forced through desperation to construct this monstrosity. I imagine it is as loud as it looks though I wouldn't want to be around when it is switched on.

It's finally my wife's turn and her name is called. She disappears into a side room and I begin to think how I will react if she is given bad news. How will we manage and can I give her the support she needs? In less than a minute, my wife reappears. It’s good news, all clear. Nothing suspicious was detected. What a relief… Instead of the anguish if we’d had bad news, we joked about how the mammogram required her breasts to be squashed almost flat for the machine to get a good enough image. It was good that we could relax and joke. We are lucky and I feel for anyone who cannot, for there are sadly too many…