August Bank Holiday Weekend (Part Two). Sun cream and shades. Only in Britain

Following the freezing cold on Sunday, yesterday was hot and I was sunburnt (I know there is no pleasing some people!).

This picture was actually taken today but I think it's going to be another hot one.

I hope that everyone else has had a great Bank Holiday.

And, the funniest thing I have read in a long time:

Oxfordshire County Council are considering re-activating the, recently, de-activated speed cameras if they can find sponsors. How bad must your reputation be if sponsoring a speed camera will improve it? Any ideas? Here is mine;

"This speed camera brought to you by Jack the Ripper"

August Bank Holiday Weekend. Raincoats and scarves? Only in Britain

In fairness this photograph does no justice to how cold or wet it was at Woolacombe Bay, Devon.

Yesterday, however, the weather was great, we did get on the beach, and these are five questions/statements I’m not sure that I want to be hear again:

1)      Daddy, that lady has big boobies.

2)      Daddy, that sandcastle (I'd just spent two hours building) is okay but that family have built a sand dragon.

3)      (Two hours, and one sand dragon, later) Daddy, I preferred the sandcastle.

4)      Daddy, you’ll never guess where we’ve buried your camera?

5)      Daddy, is that the family you called chavs?

  

I...I believe in love.

A long time ago,

Before Bono decided to save the world and,

Before I discovered indie,

I used to love rock (and in particular),

I used to love U2,

Amongst many this was one of my favourites,

God Part II

If you have no time to listen just take a look at these lyrics. A work of genius I tell you;

Don't believe the devil 
I don't believe his book 
But the truth is not the same 
Without the lies he made up 

Don't believe in excess 
Success is to give 
Don't believe in riches 
But you should see where I live 
I...I believe in love 

Don't believe in forced entry 
Don't believe in rape 
But every time she passes by 
Wild thoughts escape 
I don't believe in death row 
Skid row or the gangs 
Don't believe in the Uzi 
It just went off in my hand 
I...I believe in love 

Don't believe in cocaine 
Got a speed-ball in my head 
I could cut and crack you open 
Do you hear what I said 
Don't believe them when they tell me 
There ain't no cure 
The rich stay healthy 
The sick stay poor 
I...I believe in love 

Don't believe in Goldman 
His type like a curse 
Instant karma's going to get him 
If I don't get him first 
Don't believe in rock 'n' roll 
Can really change the world 
As it spins in revolution 
It spirals and turns 
I...I believe in love 

Don't believe in the 60's 
The golden age of pop 
You glorify the past 
When the future dries up 
Heard a singer on the radio late last night 
He says he's gonna kick the darkness 
'til it bleeds daylight 
I...I believe in love 

I feel like I'm falling 
Like I'm spinning on a wheel 
It always stops beside of me 
With a presence I can feel 
I...I believe in love

Chocolate Cake

Before;

During;

And after;

(and yes by the time of the 3rd picture my lad's boredom threshold had been reached).

I'm off on holiday to North Devon tomorrow. I'm hoping to pick up some of Sham's wisdom but failing that a cream tea will have to do!

Back soon!

The Hungry Caterpillar!

Today I was having a bad day and then I saw this;

and it cheered me up!

I used to love the hungry caterpillar as do my children and the lovely lady loves things like this!

Am I a bad man?

I took a call whilst at work the other day. It was my ex wife and she was in tears. She said to me,

"J has said that he wants to come and live with you" I replied,

"He is probably just in a mood about something, I'm sure that he didn't mean it" she answered,

"Yes he does, he isn't angry, or even miserable, he has said it in a matter of fact way." I asked her to put J on the phone. He said to me,

"Hello daddy. I'm playing with my dinosaurs and I'm about to have a bath"

"That's great mate" I replied,

"Oh, and daddy I want to live with you and see mummy at the weekends." The ex was right he had said this in a very matter of fact way. It seemed to me that he had given careful consideration to the proposition and had decided that he wanted to spend the majority of his time with me. Unfortunately, I knew where my ex was going with this. To her the only reason J would want to live with me would be because I let him stay up all night, drink beer, gamble and watch porn. But before anyone starts calling the NSPCC I don't let him do any of those things. I don't even do any of those things myself (well, 2 out of 4 ain't bad!!). Everything that my ex likes to believe I let him do, I don't. I bath him regularly, I make sure he goes to bed early on school nights and, most importantly of all, I let him know I love him. We have fun, but there are rules and those rules are followed - to the letter. I try to ensure that he has the same discipline with me as he does with his mum, as I am sympathetic to the fact that she is the one that normally gets the hard chores - taking him to school, the doctors and so on.

But, regardless of that it isn't actually practical for J to live with me. However, much either he, or I, would like it. J's mum stays at home. She is a foster parent, as we both once were. I go to work 5 days a week and if it wasn't for my wage neither I, nor my ex, would be able to afford to live where we do.

I explained the reasons why it wasn't practical for little J to live with me. I explained that he does live here, some of the time, and that he has two homes and he shouldn't see it as a choice as both his mummy and I love him very much. He seemed to understand.

However, there was a part of me that got some pleasure out of hearing my little boy say he wanted to live with me. Does this make me a bad person?

What a weekend!

As I'm sat writing this post my neck hurts, my jaw hurts, my ribs hurt, my back hurts, my legs hurt and, somewhere, out there the lovely lady is feeling exactly the same but she is also worrying how she will be able to pay the rent this month.

You see the lovely lady and I went away for the weekend and it became rather eventful. On the Thursday evening (the first night of our adventure) an elderly lady drove into the back of our stationary car forcing us forward about 3 car lengths. I have no idea how fast the elderly lady was driving but I do know that the Police Officer attending the accident stated that it was, "not a low impact collision." I also know that as I watched her approaching, in my rear view mirror, I only had the time, from the moment I saw her approximately 100 metres away until the moment of the impact, to disengage the handbrake. Then on the Saturday morning the lovely lady discovered that her identity had been stolen and the contents of her bank account emptied.

In any normal situation that would ruin the weekend but in a strange way it made it for me. As I stood, at the side of the roadside, watching the lovely lady tender to the elderly lady, even though she was in a great deal of pain herself, I thought to myself, "this is why I think you're wonderful." As, I watched her yesterday worrying about how she was going to pay the rent, and take the kids on holiday, I thought to myself, "this is why I want to be with you." And as I sit her now I can only be thankful for the fact she also wants to be with me.

PS It maybe hard to believe but, between the accident and the theft, we also managed to have some really great times and I am sure that I will blog about them another time, but for now I'm going to bed!

A life changing experience!

The lovely lady in my life was offered a unique experience recently. An experience that, I believe, would change her life for ever and, perhaps, not in the manner she either expected or wanted. This set my mind racing as to the most significant and life changing event in my life and whilst there are many (the kids, the marriage, the divorce, the trip to India, the trip to America) there is one that stands out over and above all others and changed my life, and me, forever. In many ways I wish that I had never had this experience but, in other ways, I wouldn't be the person I am today if I hadn't.

This event took place about eight years ago when my ex wife and I were still together. My ex had been brought up by parents that fostered children and this was something that she wanted to do as well. Despite my initial reservations and refusals she had, somehow, managed to convince me that this was a good idea. To this day I am unsure how she ever managed this. I was brought up in a very sheltered environment, by two loving parents, and I always assumed that everyone else experienced this same upbringing. When I was younger the only kids I ever met that were in care were angry and I assumed that this was the reason they were in care. Most had been expelled from other schools and they were the kids you avoided unless you wanted a fight.

This perception all changed for me when we offered to look after a 4 year old lad who was on an emergency placement. I will call this child T. T had been taken into care for reasons I neither knew, nor wanted to know. This blinkered view worked for me on many levels. Firstly I didn't perceive myself as the primary carer (I was working full time whilst the ex wasn't) and, therefore, I didn't need to know and secondly I was worried that, if I did know, my perception of the child would be altered in some manner.

We looked after T for a week or so and over that period I grew to really like this kid. In many ways he was the perfect child. He was polite, fun, genuine and generally uplifting. He was everything that I didn't believe a kid in care would be. 

On his final weekend, with us, we decided  to take him to the local safari park. We had a great time feeding the animals, watching the lions and laughing at the monkeys. We then went to watch the sea lions and on the way T told me that he needed the toilet. Without thinking I said, "okay let's go." T spluttered, choked and started to shake. I didn't know what was happening but my ex took control and asked T if he would like her to take him to the toilet. This pleased T and off they went. I was more then a little shaken by the experience so I asked the ex what had happened and she said that she would explain when we arrived home.

When we did arrive home my ex handed me the case file on T and told me to read it. This I did and it all, suddenly, became clear. T had been scared because, to him, I was like the only other male role model he had known. T's experience had led him to believe that, rather then take him to the toilet in order that he could relieve himself, it was my intention to abuse him. This made me physically sick and yet even worse was to come. 

On the following Monday we were advised that social services were considering returning T to his parents. This I couldn't stomach and I asked my ex to consider adopting the little lad. I was informed that this was a non-starter. Whilst we had been approved for fostering this was a totally separate procedure to adoption and we would need to complete an entirely new approval process that would take weeks. I then told the ex that I didn't think I could handle that little boy being returned to the hands of his abuser. I told her that I would serve time for that little lad. My ex, who had seen this situation before, reminded me that the decision wasn't mine and, as foster carers, we only looked after children whilst they were in care and that it was for others to decide who should, and shouldn't, be in care. As it happens T wasn't returned to his parents and, instead, moved to long term foster parents where he grew and thrived.

This was my first experience as a foster carer and, over the 8 years or so that we continued to foster, there were many more, some good and some not so good, but this was the one that changed my life forever.

Whether this was a good thing I'm not sure. In many ways I was happier when I was naive.

Privileged

Having spent my entire career in the construction industry I have worked on all sorts of projects, from the smallest house refurbishment to the largest multi-billion pound medical research centre. Whilst most of these projects have held my interest, some have been truly inspirational. These inspirational projects have, always, had one thing in common. They have all been masterminded by someone with great vision and skill. This vision can lift a building, it can inspire a community and it can create a general feel good factor. This vision can come in all manner of different guises. It can be the vision to transform an entire city centre, from a once oppressive and soulless hole, to a thriving hub or it can be the vision to lift a new secondary school, from the norm, to an environment that just seems to pulse with a learning vibe. In all cases I am thankful for the brilliance of these visionaries.

At this very time I am privileged to be working on such a project. On this particular project it would have been cheaper, and easier, to knock down the existing cotton mill and build an entirely new structure. However, this would have been a travesty. It would have denied future generations the knowledge of the great industrial heritage that has gone before and it would have stolen the centre piece from this suburb. Further, in my opinion, it would have ripped the soul from the community if this beautiful building had been replaced by a standard and uninspiring new build.

Instead this client has decided to save, and renovate, this building and, whilst it will never be a cotton mill again, it will stand as a proud reminder of our past.

I feel very proud, and privileged, to have an involvement with the transformation of this old cotton mill into a new and modern learning environment.

The Story of Two Families....

Just a few weeks ago a lovely couple, that live just outside my front door, had a family of five babies....

Now, those babies are almost grown up and they will soon be flying the nest. To where? I don't know, but  I do know that they won't come back here and I find this kind of sad.

But then I'm quite glad that we have longer, because I quite like being a dad.

And I hope that one day I'll quite like being a grandparent just like my mum.....

and my dad.....

seem to!


(A few questions that this post raises:

1) Which photo was taken with the cheap, and rubbish, mobile phone?
2) How come both my parents have a full, albeit grey, head of hair and yet I went totally bold in my twenties?)

Religion and me!

Some time ago I read a post by dadwhowrites on his views on religion (which can be found here) and whilst I didn't feel adequately qualified to make comment it did set me thinking about my own religious views.

When I was growing up my father was a non-practising Catholic and my mother was a non-practising Methodist. Whilst both my parents were non-practising it didn't stop their belief in god and as a child I was, free to question but also, encouraged to believe.

I can't pretend that I ever attended church regularly. In fact it would be fair to say that my attendance at church correlated directly with my attendance at weddings, funerals and christenings. However, as with my parents, that didn't mean that I was a non believer. It, perhaps, did mean that I didn't believe in the institution of the Church.Whilst growing up I always had questions and those questions seemed to be answered at times and left to go unanswered at other times. Thus, my beliefs were in a constant state of flux, never quite one thing and never quite another. However, I think the fact that I questioned for so long must have meant that, underneath, I always did hold beliefs.

My grandmother attended the local Methodist church regularly. Whilst my grandfather was always involved with the add-ons to the church, i.e. the local scout group, he  never, to my knowledge at least, attended the church. Once, whilst we were walking in the countryside, I asked him why this was. Pointing to his surroundings he replied,

"This is my church" and went on, "if you can't find God out here you never will."

This stayed with me all the time that I questioned the few beliefs that I held. I have to agree with my grandfather that, when you are in the beauty of the countryside, it can be difficult to accept that it is purely acts of nature and evolution at play. It can seem that someone has set a ball in motion that keeps rolling and with every turn it's beauty develops. In my mind nature throws up to many questions that cannot be answered by evolution alone.

But, during this entire period, there were enough reasons for me to question the existence of a greater being. When I saw pictures of starving children, famine and acts of genocide I found it hard to believe that, if a God did exist, he wouldn't be moved to act. However, I could always counterbalance that argument with the suggestion that God had given us the tools to stop the suffering and it was more a failure on our part that we hadn't.

Then when my grandfather died, and at a stage when I considered myself an atheist, I asked my grandmother why she believed in god. She replied with the following,

"I believe that when we die we go to a better place. This means that, I believe, I will be reunited with your grandfather. If I am wrong, and there is no god, I'll never know about it. If you're wrong you'll have spent a lifetime believing you will never see loved ones, that have died before you, again." I found those words to be very compelling and, they moved me so much that, I wanted to believe again. So, I decided, there and then, that I would and so I do. And I find that believing is a lot easier then not believing.

There is another reason why I like to believe in God. In my mind if there is no God, then there is no devil and if there is no devil then there are, a whole mass of, people that have exited this life, having committed horrible crimes, that have gone unpunished.

So, in my small mind it gives me comfort to believe that there is a god as it means that:

a) I will one day see loved ones again,
b) The perpetrators of horrendous crimes, that have gone unpunished in this lifetime, are, finally, receiving their judgement. I like to believe that, at this very moment in time, Hitler is sat in a waiting room, in Hell, waiting for his 11.00am appointment with a red hot poker.

These are my beliefs as simple as they are!

But, as always there is a musician out there that has summed up the same feelings but in an entirely more eloquent manner then me and, in this case, it is Cat Stevens and the song can be found here.

The random thought post!

My brain has been so full of random thoughts lately that I was beginning to think I would never be able to write another blog post. However, I've decided to turn these random thoughts into a post. So here are my favourite from this week:

1) Unless I get rid of the random thoughts going through my head I'll never be able to write another blog post. Ah, there's a thought!

2) I love chocolate, cheese and beer but they don't mix very well!

3) Being scared of heights, and working in the construction industry, is not always compatible.

4) Being scared of heights, and being too proud to admit it, can get you into some very scary situations.

5) Being an emotional person, who has no idea how to deal with emotions, can be problematic.

6) I know I'm an emotional person as, whenever I feel emotional, I find myself strapping on my trainers to go running.

7) I read that (sorry I can't remember where) women prefer to be wanted rather then loved. This doesn't work for me at all. But, then I'm not a woman!

8) If I was wanted by a person, just because I wanted that person, I wouldn't want them any more.

9) I prefer my blog posts that contain the kids.

10) I worry that I worry too much.

Home wrecker!

I read a post over at Single Mom Mindy about home wreckers (it can be found here) and it set me thinking. The post, as well as being thought provoking, came at a time when I have been slightly reflective. It is almost two years to the day since my marriage ended and the ex has taken the kids, and her new partner, (the third person in our marriage) on holiday to the exact same Villa in Spain where our marriage ended.

According to any definition the other party in my relationship falls squarely and fairly into the category of  a home wrecker. Should I, therefore, hate this third party? For that matter should I hate my ex? To date I haven't, although, it would probably make things a little easier for me if I did. One of the reasons I distanced myself from my friends was because they seemed to be willing me to hate the ex. It was as if they thought this hatred would realise me from the pain I was suffering. This didn't work for me at all, partly because I still cared about the ex, partly because I didn't want to be told that I'd married a bitch and partly because I'd been inside our marriage.

It is true that some of the issues in our marriage coincided with the commencement of the affair, but even so, it has to be the case that something was fundamentally wrong within our relationship for the ex to start seeking something outside of it. In our situation I am at least partly to blame for that. I took things for granted. I assumed that we would always be together. I worked full time, came home and spent hours re-constructing our home and then took my turn with the kids. I didn't get to spend much time with the ex. I could dress that up as being part and parcel of a family man, but the truth is I had fallen out of love with the ex. In the end this was either a mutual feeling, or she realised, and sought love elsewhere. Whilst, I would never have had an affair, I cannot condemn the ex for seeking happiness. After all that is a basic human right.

Moreover, I cannot hate the ex, or her new partner, as to do so would upset my kids. My kids like my ex's new partner and, if I was to be hate filled, they would feel they had to choose loyalties. I don't want that for my kids. I want them to be happy to come to the home we share and tell me what a great time they have had at their other home. I want them to be able to tell me about the things they have done, whilst with their mother, without the worry, or doubt, that I will be offended. This is important to me. My parents split when I was 20 (shortly after the ex and I started dating). When I was married at 29 I was worried about inviting them both to the wedding. As it happens they both made an effort and we had a great time, but the feeling was there all the same. I don't want my kids to have that feeling. Therefore, I made a conscious effort to let any hate and anger go. As it happens my ex seems to have taken an entirely different view on the divorce so my kids will, probably, have to face all those things but I can only be responsible for my own actions.

There is another reason for me pondering the status of a marriage wrecker. The lovely lady I'm currently dating had been separated from her husband, for 8 months or so, when we started seeing each other. Technically they could have re-united and lived happily ever after. Therefore, am I a marriage wrecker? Possibly? I've asked the lovely lady this question and she has assured me that the marriage was dead long before we met, but it doesn't stop me wondering. Also, if the situation had been slightly different and I had met the lovely lady when she was still with her husband, we had felt a spark, fallen in love and decided we wanted to be together, would I then have been a marriage wrecker? According to any definition I would have been. If that had happened would I deserve to be judged for the rest of my life? I don't think so.

But, this is just my take on my situation and I realise all situations are different.

Welcome to Britain

My lovely friend Savorie Girl, who can be found over here, is currently starting her big adventure. Today she makes the move from the USA to the UK. So, if you're in the UK why not nip over here, leave and comment, and make her feel welcome.

I hope that the authorities know that they have a VIP on board that plane and have the red carpet ready!

Welcome to Britain Erika. May all your dreams come true!

And on the seventh day....

...he rested from all his work.

Only I don't want to rest. I want to play with my children, I want to climb that tree in the park, I want to paint that picture, I want to swim that pool, I want to bake those cakes, I want to laugh that laugh, I want to tuck my kids into their beds and read them a bed time story. I don't want to sit here holding back tears because I've just taken the kids back to their mums and I won't see them for two whole weeks as they are off on holiday.

Everything is different when the kids go back.

The walk home is quiet whereas before it was full of noise, the two scooters rest heavily on my shoulder whereas before they raced along the path, the house is too big whereas before it was perfect, the toys are a mess on the floor whereas before they were a plaything, the kitchen needs tidying whereas before it was an art gallery, the bedroom is lifeless whereas before it buzzed. I am empty whereas before I was full.

There are 2 child shaped holes in my heart and I never quite know what to do. At times like these I seek the company of strangers as they don't presume to know what I'm thinking. I don't mind that my friends and family do, but how could they when I don't?

But I mustn't grumble as I've done all those things and I will again. I have so much to look forward to in the next two weeks. The lovely lady and I are going camping for four days, I've got a weekend where I have no plans so I can do as I please. Damn it, I will have fun!

And, I've got cheese. I love cheese!

An update: I've also now got ice-cream and beer (or should that be beer and ice-cream? I'm not sure) so my sorrows will soon be drowned under a mixture of beer, ice-cream and cheese!

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder!

Having worked in the construction industry for the past 20 years I have grown to see beauty in architecture. This week I had the opportunity to indulge my love of buildings as I visited:

Newstead Abbey in Nottinghamshire (the ancestral home of Lord Byron),

Wollaton Hall in Nottingham,

Both are fabulous buildings and well worth a visit.

However, for me, this picture of a door that stood lonely on an old abandoned house wins the overall prize for outstanding beauty. All three demonstrate great examples of workmanship but this door just seems more attainable, more honest and hard working. It was clearly built by someone who loved this derelict old house and took their time to show it. I love this door. It moves me.

It just goes to show that beauty can be found anywhere and is, truly, in the eye of the beholder. I guess there is a lesson in there somewhere as well!

A sticky situation!

 My little boy loves sticks. To a 3 year old, with a wild imagination, a stick can be a sword, a wand, a gun (as demonstrated below), in fact just about anything.

So, you would have thought he would have been like a pig in muck when we found all these sticks:

However, when I asked him if he liked it there he replied,

"No, it's too sticky!"

The moral code of a 7 year old

Whilst driving to the park yesterday I was cut up by a white van driver who went on to shout expletives at me. For what I still don't know, perhaps I didn't disappear in time? I would normally try and ignore such provocation but, in this instance, I did point out, that his language was inappropriate when I had a 3 year old, a 7 year old and my mother in the car. He then proceeded to call me a mucking runt or words that sounded very similar. I am afraid, that at this stage, I did react and shouted an expletive or two back in his direction.

Immediately my little girl gasped. I looked around to be told,

"Daddy, if you've nothing nice to say, then don't say anything at all!"

I thought to myself, "maybe she's right!" And, so I decided that I would try to live my life by the moral code of a 7 year old.

Now, I find myself, almost 36 hours later and, having hardly spoken to a soul wondering if it is better to:

a) Ignore someone and have them think you're an ignorant git or,

b) Speak to someone and have them know you're an ignorant git.

My life is full of such imponderables!!

When I was little fun was free!

When I was little fun was free, or at least it never used to cost more than the 20p pocket money we were given. We used to make dens, climb trees, play football, play British bulldog, rally 123 and, if we were feeling particularly naughty, rat a tat ginger. But it seems to me that those days are gone. My kids don't seem to find pleasure in things unless they cost the earth.

So, today I decided to test the hypothesis that,

"You can no longer have fun without spending money."

I took one 37 year old father, his 3 year old son and, his slightly camera shy, 7 year old daughter,

Added a little water,

Followed by a little air (in the shape of a balloon),

Exerted a sideways force,

Exposed to gravity,

And the conclusion:

Fun can still be obtained for free!

But, then again this could all have been a load of old bull,

5 a day

I was going to do a blog post on politics, love, single parent dating or something equally worthy. But, that all seems a little too much to think about and I'm too excited!!

I'm about to pick the kids up so that we can spend a whole week together!!! Yay!!! That's seven whole days and seven whole nights!! Double Yay!!

I have so much planned. We are going to have fun, some more fun, followed by more fun and, perhaps, a little more fun with only the occasional tantrum thrown in (but that's only if I don't get my way with the fun bit!).

Be back soon.

Oh, and why is this post called 5 a day? I'm not sure? Do you know?