Have a coke and a smile!

Back in 2001 I visited India. It was a place so different to anywhere that I had ever visited before and I fell instantly in love with it. By this time I had done some limited travelling and I held firm in my belief that visiting different places helped to broaden my horizons and in turn shape the person that I was becoming. It gave me the vision to see that people really are just people wherever they may live. It is true that some are gifted experiences and wealth that others can only dream about whilst others live in abject poverty but essentially, no matter what our situation, we are one big family and we should look out for one another.

India also provided me with one of those simple memories that I will never forget. We were visiting Karnataka, a state in the south west of India. It was a very beautiful, but equally very poor state. People were forced to live in conditions that no one, in this day and age, should be expected to. One particular day we decided to visit a Hindu temple. The temple was situated at the very top of a mountain (okay, it may have been a hill but, if it was, it was a very big hill!) and it took us a good two hours to ascend the steps from the foot of the mountan to the temple. When we reached the top of the mountain I noticed a young boy and and his older brother sat selling bottles of cold coke that they had transported, by foot, from the village below in order that they could make a few pennies profit.

When I arrived there was only one bottle left so I quickly purchased it before someone else did. The elder brother opened it and passed it to me. I took a long swig. Whilst doing so I noticed, out of the corner of my eye, that the younger brother, who I would guess was no older then 3 or 4, was looking longingly at the coke.  I passed him the bottle and told him he could finish it. The young boy looked over at his older brother, who could only have been 10 or 11 himself, for reassurance and he was told it was okay and he could finish the drink.

The young boy took a big swallow and he started to laugh. He older brother looked at me and said,

"It is the first time he has ever tasted a coke." He then asked his brother for the bottle and took a swig himself. He then looked at me and said,

"It is also the first time that I've ever tasted a coke."

To this day I'm still not sure whether I was more surprised that:

a) A boy no older then my son had to earn pennies by carrying heavy bottles of coke up the side of a mountain or,
b) That neither the 4 year old, or his 11 year old brother, had ever tasted a coke.

I still don't know why this should have surprised me so much but it did and, I guess, it shows the privileged life that I lead.

Either way it was the best bottle of coke I've ever brought and the experience, certainly, put a smile on my face!

I shouldn't really be here.....

as I've got so much work to do elsewhere! But, I'd just popped by to read some of the comments left on my blog (I know - vanity got the better of me!!!) and whilst here I decided to read a couple of quick posts from bloggers that I regularly visit (sorry I haven't left any comments yet but I will) and I just wanted to say a really big,

THANK YOU!

to everyone that writes a blog and hasn't banned me from visiting. In the past 20 minutes I have been moved, inspired, giggled and felt sorrow and I've only managed to get through 4 posts.

Sometimes, I find blogging a strange world but today I love it.

So one more time I say a really big,

THANK YOU!

I'm a lucky man!

Sometimes I focus on the small things that are going wrong in my life and I miss the bigger picture. I worry about paying the mortgage and forget that, no matter what, I have two wonderful kids and a lady that I love, and that love me back. I concern myself with the age of my car when I should be out with my brilliant friends and family.

But, on occasions they will do things, just small things, that make me step back and think,

"Christ, I'm a lucky man!"

Just yesterday I told my daughter off for writing on the misted car window. I told her that I would never be able to get the writing off. She apologised and stopped. Later, when I went to wipe the writing off, I saw that she had written,

"I love my daddy" and my heart melted.

And today when I went in my sock draw I found this picture folded up;

It might not seem much but it brought a tear to my eye!

Yes, it's the little things that matter and,

"Christ, I'm a lucky man!"

Single Parent Dating - An Update (Part 2)

It has been almost 12 months since the lovely lady (whom I shall call JB) and I had our first date in what is, reputed to be, the oldest pub in Britain. In that time our relationship has continued to grow stronger such that my outlook on life has changed from thinking I would never have a serious relationship again to planning my future alongside her. Whilst this has made me a lot happier there are still things that make me very nervous.

At the moment my nerves are being frayed by the prospect of JB meeting my kids and me meeting hers. 12 months ago we agreed that we wouldn't even consider introducing the kids to each other until we had reached the 12 month mark in the relationship. I think I am safe in saying that both of us, or at least I certainly did, set this fictional 12 month period as neither of us thought we would get anywhere close to it. Guess what? We have and I really want to meet her kids and I want her to meet mine. I do worry that her kids won't like me, but that is something that I will just have to work at and hope that, given time, we can become friends. I guess that JB must have the same concerns as it seems a natural reaction to be nervous in this situation.

However, for the life of me I don't know the best way to cross this path. Should we;

a) Introduce each other as friends, in the first instance, and let them see our relationship develop into a partnership? or
b) Be honest, and straight forward, and tell them that we are in a relationship from the very start?

Should we;

c) Bring all four children together at once in the hope that they will give us some form of distraction? or;
d) Introduce ourselves to each set of children first so that they can get to know us before they then meet the other children?

Should we;

e) Meet each other at somewhere fun, i.e a bonfire night party? or,
f) Somewhere quiet where we can let them ask questions?

I just don't know and, at times, it makes my head spin thinking about it. Perhaps, I am thinking about it a little too much?

As yet I do not know when the introductions will happen, but I do hope that point will be soon and then the next chapter in my life can unfold.

One of life's lessons!

I took my kids to the play centre in the local pub today. I like it there. The kids get to burn off energy and I get to relax, have a beer and read the Sunday papers knowing that they are in playing in a safe environment. In the adjacent room there was a child's birthday party. They gave each of the kids attending the party a helium filled balloon to take home. The attendant had blown up two extra balloons and, as we are locals, she gave them to me for my kids to take home.

The kids still wanted to play so I decided to tie the balloons to the chair I was sat in. Unfortunately, whilst I tied the first balloon to the chair I let go of the second one. It ascended to the very top of the building and there was no way it was coming down. Neither of my kids were happy and started to moan so I decided to choose this moment to  give a moral lesson. I pointed to the one balloon, still tied to the chair;

and said to my children,

"Look, you still have one balloon that you can share. If you fail to appreciate what you already have, and keep looking for what you don't, then you will never be happy."

As I watched my daughter stomp away exclaiming,

"You're the worst dad ever!" and turned to see my boy releasing the tied balloon and stating,

"You let my balloon go so I'm letting E's go!"

I wondered whether they had leant the lesson of my teaching!

You may have noticed......

that I've been suffering from a period of self-indulgence this past week (no, really I have - read my posts they make me cringe!). Anyway, I knew that my fate at work was going to be sealed yesterday and, whichever way it went, that meant that I could get on with my life. I would no longer feel that I was in competition with a friend.

The day started well. I received an email from Zooarchealogist confirming that I had won a breakfast bowl, which may not seem much but to a man that has never won anything it was! The lovely cross the pond gifted my blog an award and, whilst I haven't yet had time to thank her, the award lifted my spirits (and I promise the post is coming soon!).

I could see that the gloom was beginning to lift. The sun was finally peeking through the grey skies.

I then received a text message from the lovely lady which read,

"Love you. Thinking of you. Love you. That is all. xxxxxxx"

At that point a rainbow began to shine in my heart. I knew that no matter what happened during the day I would be fine;

I entered the meeting nervous but focused. My boss started with all the normal HR nonsense ("you know why we've had to call this meeting?" etc) so I asked him to cut the cr*p and get to the chase. He looked over at the HR lady and she nodded. At that point he informed me that my job was safe!

My day at work was awful, as it was spent with colleagues that had lost their jobs, and it was only slightly lifted when I met the lovely lady for lunch.

However, last night I went to pick my kids up for the weekend. As soon as I saw them the sun in my soul started to shine brightly and the flags in my head started to fly;

Thank you to everyone for bearing with me during this period of self indulgence. Normal service is now resumed!

Jingle, Jangly, Nervy, Nervy

I promised myself that if I was going to do a post tonight it was going to be a positive one, but I just can't do it.

I've been for a beer and now the enormity of the situation I'm facing tomorrow has hit me. At 8.40 tomorrow morning I will leave my desk, walk down the corridor, pass the colleague/friend who I am in competition with, walk into the boardroom and find out if I still have a job. After that I will then have to walk out the boardroom, back down the corridor, pass my colleague/friend and sit back at my desk. My colleague will then walk the same route to find out if he has a job. No matter how it turns out tomorrow is going to be one of the worst days imaginable.

If the best happens, and I keep my job, a good friend loses his. If the worst happens I'll have to make a decision on whether I need to sell my house and move away from the area in which my kids live. The plans I had for holidays etc will have to go on hold until I find a new job, which in these times of austerity is not going to easy.

Tough times lie ahead!

But on a positive note at least the Bankers are back to getting big bonuses!

Just a quick apology!

I've been contacted by a few people recently to let me know that they have been unable to comment on my posts. If you are one of them I apologise. It seems that when the wonderful people at Blogger introduced a new section for spam comments they also changed my preferences for comments.

Anyway, I think I've fixed it now.

But either way I love all your comments and definitely didn't mean to ban anyone!

What is my talent?

I went to the meeting last Friday and it was as expected. 1 of the 2 Senior Surveyors currently employed would be leaving the company. During this week we would be marked, by our superiors, against the following criteria:

a) Attendance record,

b) Approach to health and safety,

c) Work capability, experience and productivity,

d) Adaptability,

e) Relationships,

f) Team building and

g) Qualifications

and the person with the lowest score would be made redundant. I marked myself and then my colleague. I couldn't divide us which made me wonder what happens in the case of a score draw? Do we have to do a Strictly Come Dancing style dance off? Only I can't dance! Maybe we have to do a X Factor style sing off? Only I can't sing!

So, I started to think about the things that I could propose. The things that I'm good at and that would keep me in employment. 

I thought about a drinking competition but then remembered that on only one occasion had I out drunk my colleague and, at the time, he was suffering from concussion. 

I thought about a penalty shoot-out. Back in the day I used to take the penalty kicks for my football team but that was all a long time ago now. Since then I had played football with my colleague and he had a shot like a mule. I would end up getting injured and I didn't want to add that to my list of problems as well.

I considered a distance running competition. I've started building the miles up lately and thought that this may have been my avenue to success. Then I overheard my colleague talking about his time in the Nottingham marathon at the weekend. I'd being clocking up the miles but not to that extent.

I was beginning to depress myself. Was there anything I could do better then my colleague?

Then I asked my assistant. He would know. He'd worked for both of us. He said three words that made my day,

"Cool hand Luke."

"Brilliant" I exclaimed.

If anyone hasn't seen Cool Hand Luke there is an egg eating competition in which Luke eats 50 eggs. Now, I don't think I could manage 50 but I wouldn't need to. My ultra fit, ultra healthy colleague could get no where near 50. That was it. That was my talent!

Roll on Friday whatever you bring. I'm ready and so is my talent!

The day that you were born. Part 1 : E

The day that you were born was the day that my reason for being became clear. It was the day that I asked myself, "why had I wasted all those other sperm?" I could have had hundreds of you and I still couldn't have had enough. I loved you with a love that I'd never felt before. You melted me, you completed me and you made me.

The labour hadn't gone according to plan. Your mum had gone into the hospital, to be induced, on the Monday morning and here we were at 11.40pm on the Tuesday night with doctors and midwives rushing into the delivery room. Everyone seemed to want to touch your head. I know I did. I could see those golden locks. The only problem was you were still well and truly stuck inside your mum and you weren't budging. I knew something was wrong but I didn't know what and the medical staff weren't telling me. I looked at your heart monitor and I could tell see that your heartbeat was failing.  The anaesthetist then came running and that was when we were told,

"We've got to get the baby out!

"The umbilical cord has wrapped around the throat and it's struggling to breathe."

We were rushed into surgery. I was told to go and change into those blue surgery clothes. I couldn't tie the hat up. I was trying desperately to get someones attention but they were all busy. There was no way I was going to risk the health of my baby by going in carrying germs so I went into the operating theatre next door and asked them. Well, if I was going to put anyone at risk it was better that it was the old lady they were operating on! She'd had a good innings! Anyway, they told me that I didn't need to wear the hat as I had no hair - so there was no harm done!.

I sat next to your mum and held her hand. I kept my head down below the line of the curtain they had drawn over your mum's belly. I could see the surgical team pulling and tugging at your mum's belly. It was like a game of tug of war. The midwives were stood at the side awaiting your delivery. Out you came and they took you. There was no noise - you had stopped breathing. I said a prayer. I remember it. It went,

"Please God, no! Please God,no! For f'#@s sake, please God, no!!!!" 

Then I heard a cry and I breathed. I didn't realise but I must have also stopped breathing as my whole being shuddered. The midwife asked me if I would like to come over and see my little girl. That was when I knew you were a girl. I wanted a girl. I told myself I wanted a boy, but that was just to avoid disappointment. I wanted a girl. In fact I wanted you!

I needed to see you but I had a tightrope to walk to get there. I needed to not look anywhere near the location of your mummy's tummy as I knew if I did I would never get to you. I managed it. I saw you and I fell in love.

They brought you over to me and I showed you to mummy. I cried (just like I am now). The medical staff cheered. I thanked them and, then, I cried some more.

Then they sent me home and I phoned everyone to tell them the news. Your grandmother, who had been at the hospital, wanted a drink to celebrate. I wanted to go to bed. It was 2.00am and I was allowed back into the hospital at 8.00am. I wasn't going to be late.

I love you E!

I know I'm sensitive but......

....it really did piss me off when a fellow blogger followed me on twitter and then, within a few days, un-followed me. Now, I know that this sounds a little childish and I wouldn't have cared if the blogger in question actually read my blog but I'm sure they didn't. The reason I am so sure is that the whole incident occurred whilst I was on holiday and I didn't add any posts during that time. Therefore, I came to the conclusion that the only reason she followed me was to get me to follow her and it left me feeling a little used and my blog soiled.  In fact, and as a direct result, I had considered closing Donkey Trousers as I had started to question whether the entire blog scene was a little false.

Then I read this post by my friend Snark over at Snarkbutt Divorced and my faith in blogging was restored. I loved this post. In fact I think it is, probably, the most positive post I've ever read!

Thank you for restoring my desire for blogging Mr. Snark.

To the spider who lives in my wing mirror.

To the spider who lives in my wing mirror,

who tries so hard to catch his dinner,

just so that I can drive away and let it flutter,

I worry about you.

To the gentle lady,

who did so much to help little rosie,

who took her time and crafted so much,

I admire you.

To my ex wife,

who took the decision to be no part of my life,

who wishes to know what I do,

I no longer answer to you.

To the twitter few,

the "I'll follow you if you'll follow too,

give me a reason,

or let me be.

To the grumpy one,

who lives deep inside of me,

the one I try not to be,

I'll learn to control you.

To the ironing,

that won't do itself,

I hear your calls,

I'm on my way.

To e and j,

who I loved without delay,

who make me better everyday,

I love you.

To the lovely lady,

who does so much,

whose beauty shines brightly,

I can't take my mind off you.

So, what should I have said?

I have an appointment late tomorrow afternoon in which I will be advised that the position I hold with my employer is at risk and a consultation process will commence to determine whether I lose my job. This isn't a major surprise as I have survived the consultation process twice before and in that time the workload has continued to dwindle. However, unlike before, I don't believe that I will survive these currents cuts and have started to make serious efforts at finding a new job.

Neither, will this be the first time that I have been made redundant. A long time ago, when I was just 22, I was called into a meeting to be informed that I was losing my job. I wasn't sure how to respond to this but, being brought up to always be polite, I said,

"Thank you." This made my boss and the Human Resources Manager chuckle and they responded with,

"Spencer, you don't have to say thank you. We've just made you redundant." I thought about their comments and replied with, the almost inevitable,

"Thank you."

So, my question to you, my wise readers is,

What should I have said?

as I still have no idea of the correct etiquette in such situations.

I am afraid that I can no longer afford to give a prize to the winning answer but you may succeed in lifting my spirits at a time that promises to be a little challenging.

Things that make you go urgh!

There is an old joke that goes,

Question: What is worse then finding a maggot in your apple?
Answer: Finding half a maggot in your apple?

Well, I had one of those moments once.

I may have told you before that I used to be a foster parent. At one stage the ex-wife and I were fostering two 16 year old girls. They were good kids, as most kids are, but did have their issues, as most kids in care do.

Anyway, during this particular episode the wife had taken my daughter (my lad was yet to be born) to her parents house in Spain. I stayed behind, with the foster girls, to supervise the extension that we were having built. The building works entailed an extension to the side and rear of the house and involved alterations to the kitchen. As a result of the works we had no available washing machine at this time.

So, off I marched to the local launderette with the two foster girls. I had them load their washing into one machine and my washing into a seperate machine whilst I went and found some change. Following the wash we then loaded the washing into the dryers as you do.

Upon unloading the washing I found, in the middle of my shirts, a pair of girls knickers. This didn't really worry me but what did worry me was what was in the pair of knickers. Inside the knickers I found.....

....a washed and dried but very used sanitary towel!

I never wore any of those clothes again!

PS Welcome to www.donkeytrousers.com. I've taken the plunge (don't ask me why) and brought my domain name from blogspot. This seems to have resulted in me losing my blogroll but it will re-appear over the next few days.

If there is one thing I hate it's.....

...intolerance in all it's shapes and forms. So, just lately, as I've been watching the Roma forcibly repatriated from France, a part of me has wanted to cry and another part of me has wanted to shout, "Wait, stop, think! Surely, you can see that these people didn't have great lives back home if they wanted to come and live in make shift camps on the streets of France?"

And as we remember the difficulties faced during the Blitz I wonder if we have forgotten the very reason that this country went to war, to fight tyranny, as no-one, in this country at least, seems to care about the plight of the Roma. There are no big demonstrations in support of them. There are no twitter ribbons demonstrating alliance with them and there are no wrist bands to be worn. In fact I'm fairly sure that a large minority of the British people would be supportive of the actions taken by the France Government.

Perhaps, the suffering of Roma children is insignificant in comparison to those in far away fields?

Perhaps, it is easier to close our eyes to the suffering occurring in our backyards? or,

Perhaps, we just don't care?

I'm not sure. I have been tempted to write a post about the plight of the Roma but, I know that this blog isn't powerful, it won't touch people and it won't move people to action. So, instead I have done nothing and this makes me, more then, a little sad.

However, yesterday, whilst listening to Radio 4, I heard Thought for the Day and I loved it. You can listen here and the script is below. It's not very often I listen to a religious commenter and think "Spot On!" but yesterday I did!

Thought for the Day, 7 September 2010 Indarjit Singh Today's demonstrations over the retirement age in France remind me of parallel demonstrations over President Sarkozy's forced repatriation of more than eight thousand Roma to Eastern Europe. The European Commission, the UN and the Vatican have also expressed concern. Here, France is not alone Italy evicted thousands of Roma in 2008 and Germany plans to repatriate 12,000 this year. The plight of the Roma is part of a deeper problem. Easier travel, particularly in the EEC and changing economic and trade realities have resulted in people, often different in appearance and culture, disturbing the equilibrium of previously close communities. We have it in our genes to be wary of difference, but unfortunately our knee jerk reaction is to exaggerate the fear and vilify the stranger, as is now happening with the Roma. And they are not alone, particularly in Eastern Europe long isolated from different cultures. Sikhs arriving at Polish airports for example, while appreciating the needs of security, are dismayed by negative attitudes to their turban. Only yesterday, a Sikh businessman, on arrival at Warsaw airport was excitedly told to remove his turban and throw it on a tray for inspection as if it would explode at any moment: treatment that is in marked contrast to the culturally sensitive security checks in the USA and much of western Europe. The irony is that the Sikh turban is an important religious symbol of a commitment to respect the rights and beliefs of others. Such displays of hostility to supposed difference were seen in the Britain of the 50s and 60s as a reaction to new arrivals from the Commonwealth. Fortunately, a strong British sense of tolerance and fair play prevailed and European politicians could do well to look to British experience. Our different religions teach us to look beyond superficial difference to more important commonalities. Guru Gobind Singh, our 10th Guru, concerned about religious conflict wrote: Some call themselves Hindus, others Muslims Yet man is of one race in all the world. Today the focus is on the Roma; tomorrow it will be others as people exercise their increased rights to freedom of travel and settlement. Somehow, we have to bring ourselves to look beyond superficial difference and see others as fellow humans with a common destiny.

copyright 2010 BBC

Life's too short! RIP in Mike Edwards

I wrote very briefly recently about the road traffic accident that the lovely lady and I had been involved in (the post can be found here).  At the time, and whilst stood at the roadside, it crossed my mind how lucky we were and how things could have been a lot worse. However, I decided to put such thoughts out of my mind as worrying about what might have been seems a little pointless.

However, when I read about the untimely death of Mike Edwards, who had been in the band ELO, I couldn't help but think about the similarities between our two accidents. Mike Edwards was killed when the van he was driving was crushed by a hay bale that fell from a passing tractor.

In our accident, I was stationary waiting to turn right (for my readers that drive on the wrong side of the road that is against the flow of oncoming traffic). I was waiting for a tractor, towing a trailer that was stacked full of hay bales to pass, when a car drove into our rear end and forced us some 10 metres, or so, forward. At the time I hadn't commenced manoeuvring and, therefore, we were forced directly forward. If I had started turning right, even very slightly, I have no doubt that we would have been forced underneath the wheels of the trailer.

This trailer contained, from memory, 2 rows of hale bays stacked 6 long and 4 high. On the basis that these bales weigh 600kg I am guessing that the overall weight of the trailer would have been in the region of 30t. I can't see how either the lovely lady or myself could have possibly survived such an accident. That would have left 2 children without a mother and 2 without a father.

So, I have decided to take the advice my grandmother often gives me and I am going to,

"Live my life and enjoy it."

RIP Mike Edwards.

I had an insight into the future today.

I was at the park with my children. My 3 year old son was in the sand pit digging for gold when a girl, who I would guess was a year or so older then my son, started to play with him. They were playing well together, although they failed to find any gold which means I'm back to work tomorrow, when my son asked the little girl if she wanted to go and play on the swings. She did and so my son came over to me to put his shoes back on.

Whilst I was doing this the little girl came over to me and asked, "Are you his daddy?"

To which I replied, "Yes."

She then enquired,

"Do you know if he has a girlfriend?"

I didn't actually say anything but I did look at my son and smiled. He proceeded to inform me that,

"You can be friends with girls, without them being your girlfriend!"

Who would have known?

And so the sun sets on my holiday...

but what a holiday we had. We did all the things that you should do on a kids holiday. We built sandcastles;

We went on fairground rides;

But we also did so much more. We had tea with Alice and the Mad Hatter;

And we bounced with Billy and Betty Beachball;

I love seeing my kids smile and they didn't stop smiling until they dropped;

Yes, it was a great holiday!