The Musings Of An Opinionated Sod [Help Me Grow!]


Happy Birthday Dad …

Today would be my Dad’s 83rd birthday.

The age Mum died.

That means he has been gone 23 years.

Twenty three!

That’s almost unfeasible for me to comprehend.

And while I am now 51 … married … and a father … I still feel his little boy, a kid who needs and wants his Dad.

But as today would be his birthday, it would be my turn to look after him.

Make sure he felt spoilt and loved.

And for me, that would mean getting him something that was a ridiculous enjoyment, because he – and Mum – taught me a gift is something you want but could never justify in getting.

Of course they never followed their own advice, because when I would ask them what they wanted, they’d either say, “nothing, but a card” or something insanely practical.

I never listened to them.

And while my kid version of ridiculous enjoyment was limited by price – and imagination – right now, I would get him something that would push the boundaries of his wildest expectations.

Which would be a canary yellow, 1970’s Rolls Royce Corniche convertible with white-wall wheels.

I have no idea why he loved that car so much.

He sure as hell never drove one.

I don’t even know if he ever sat in one.

But throughout my childhood that would be the car he would constantly talk about and point to.

He even had a terrible Dad joke about them which he would tell me on an almost weekly basis.

Which is why I would do all I could to get him one today.

It might be a bit knackered.

It might not be able to go long distances.

He might only be able to afford one tank of fuel.

But to see his face as I led him outside to see his present, would be magical.

Of course, Dad isn’t here …

I can’t celebrate his birthday with him.

So instead, I ordered this on eBay …

It might not be the real thing.

It might not be a convertible.

And it might not have white wall wheels.

But it is my way of letting my Dad know he’s still with me, even though he’s not.

Not to mention, he’d probably love receiving it nearly as much as he would a real one.

Happy birthday Dad, I hope Mum is spoiling you rotten.

Love you.

Rx



Love Is Lazy …

I found this photo recently.

It’s a few years old, when we lived in London … but there’s something about it that just warms my heart.

Not just because it features my son – though that helps – but because it in a period of pandemic chaos, it shows how love can make everything OK.

Covid had just taken hold.

We were all confined to home.

No one was offering any clarity.

People were dying at unprecedented numbers.

And Otis desperately needed his hair washing.

However …

… he was also playing a video game he absolutely didn’t want to stop playing so – because his world had been turned completely upside down – his wonderful, kind, considerate Mum found a way for him to keep playing while she could do some hair washing.

Obviously it is an utterly ridiculous way to do things, but it’s my ridiculous.

A moment of twisted normality at a time where nothing felt normal whatsoever.

And while I appreciate this is an utterly indulgent photograph, I love the way he seems oblivious to his surroundings. His little legs stretched out to the tip of his toes. And a kitchen that has been rapidly turned into a school, a playroom and a hairdressers all at the same time.

While we were painfully aware of the privileged position we were in – from having an income to having a teeny garden to escape in – the fear of COVID was starting to take a hold which is why, as I look at that photo today, I realise how much my ridiculously beautifully family let me feel we were strong together at a point where everything was feeling like it was falling apart.



What Sort Of Sick Bastard Comes Up With Stuff Like This?
August 17, 2021, 8:00 am
Filed under: Attitude & Aptitude, Childhood, Comment, Cunning, Dad, Daddyhood, Fatherhood, Jill, Mum & Dad, Otis, Parents

When I was a kid, the Rubik’s Cube came out and a nation was transfixed.

My Dad bet me 5 pounds I couldn’t do 2 sides and 50 pounds I couldn’t do it all.

Now back then, this was big money … and given we didn’t have that sort of money to throw about, I can only assume he suggested it because he knew I wouldn’t be able to do it.

He was right.

So I took it apart and put it back together arguing he hadn’t specified how I solve it.

He admired my attempt to win on a technicality, but still didn’t pay up.

Over the years, the Rubik’s Cube has made a number of comebacks, and while I loved watching the documentary on ‘cubers’, I never engaged with any of them again.

Till now.

Otis has become OBSESSED with them.

But unlike the relatively simple 3×3 I had back then, there are literally hundreds of different combinations.

From cubes that transform into different shapes which means everything gets even more insane … to different shapes that have more sides/combinations to solve that ever before … to cubes where each square is split into two colours to make things even more maddening … to cubes that go up to 33 x 33, which surely is basically some form of modern torture!!!

And while Otis doesn’t have all of them and can’t solve any of them fully – yet – he is transfixed.

Constantly playing, trying, exploring, learning, solving [2 sides] and I have to say I find it amazing.

Amazing for what he is doing and amazing that technology has become so much part of his normal life, that cubes … CUBES … offer a tempting distraction.

Of course I still can’t do any of them.

And of course Jill can do most of them.

Which all goes to prove the person who said ‘practice makes perfect’ either didn’t know what they were talking about or – as I fear – I am just really, really pathetic.

________________________________________________________________________________

Update: Since I wrote this post, Otis has got more cubes and can now do a 3×3 on his own. Me? I remain proudly consistent in my cube performance abilities.



This Is Absolutely Not Me …
August 13, 2021, 8:00 am
Filed under: Dad, Daddyhood, Fatherhood

But it could absolutely be me.

Fortunately, it’s not me today.

I think.

I hope.

Happy weekend.



The Final Countdown … Again.

So today is the 1st Feb.

That means today is the first day of our final month living in England.

Or at least living in England for a period of time.

We will be back for a whole host of reasons, we just don’t know when.

And while I’ll be writing another long, drawn out post listing all the things I’ll miss and all the things I’m grateful for … the reality is there’s a chance COVID will fuck our plans and instead of boarding a plane to New Zealand on the 3rd March, we’ll be in our beautiful home, trying to work out how to get our furniture off a boat and our cat out of quarantine.

It’s a strange feeling to think you have a time limit on what you have come to consider ‘home’.

A mixture of fear and excitement.

Of course we have done it a ton of times – and we’re really thrilled to be off on another adventure – but there’s a bunch of things that have got their teeth into us.

Being near Paul and Shelly after 25 years is a huge one.
Our beautiful new home with our beautiful garden is another.
Not to mention the wonderful new friends we’ve made in the time we’ve been back.

But as I say to many people who ask me about moving overseas, while it is easy to focus on the things you’ll miss, you need to focus on the things you’ll gain.

And we can’t wait for that.

The things we know, the things we hope for and the things that will just crash into our life.

I owe so much of my life to having lived around the World and I’m very excited to discover what new chapters this adventure will write.

So as this is a month where a lot will be going on, this blog will end on Friday till we are either in NZ or being told we have to wait longer to get into NZ.

Though whatever is the outcome, while not hearing my rubbish on here for a few weeks sounds like a delight, let me remind you – when I’m in quarantine in NZ with literally nothing to do, there’s a good chance I may be writing 100 blog posts a day.

So be careful what you wish for.