Moving on for Bean

Remember this?

He's now done this

Blimey

The inevitable passing of time

Although nearly forty eight age years old, I still have one living grandparent.

Yesterday was my grandma's ninety first birthday, so I skived off work and went to visit her. For the past few years she has been living in a home specialising in dementia care. She's content and safe there.

I knew the day would come, and yesterday was that day. At no point when I was there did she have a clue who I was. It was very saddening, but as I drove back with only my thoughts for company, I decided that I would always strive to remember the strong and vibrant woman she was for most of my life.

 The one who made me drive up the mountain and load bags of wild pony manure for the garden, the one who filled the house with the aroma of freshly baked pasties, sausage rolls and sweet, unctuous rice pudding ( first dibs on the skin off the top), the one who rode her scooter at fifteen miles an hour, cursing the impatient motorists behind her, the one who walked for miles with her doting little terrier, the one who grew the most amazing vegetables, the one who kept a wild area in the corner of the garden, that grew as it liked,the one who was always quietly proud of her nursing career,  the one who took every opportunity to travel, often on a shoestring, the one who always forgave me everything,  the one who had such a mischievous humour, right up until a few weeks ago.

That one.

Blogging bog down

My blogging has gone down and down over the past two years and when I look at other blogs I always enjoyed, with a few exceptions, this is pretty much the case, with many not blogging at all in the past year.

Why is this? Who knows. Perhaps blogging was a fad, it was an easy way for everyone to express the writer within themselves and engage with an audience if they chose to. Fads are just that, fads.

I must get back to it, for aside from the simple enjoyment of writing for writings sake, my intention was always to provide myself with an online diary of my thoughts on my own life, and my reaction to events around me. Along with that, I met some interesting people in the virtual world, and it would be good to re-engage.

Little has been written of Josh in the past eighteen months, but much has happened, mostly inside his head. Life is sometimes not straightforward for many of us, certainly not for him. He's twelve now, and as well as his mind, he's at that age when his body is changing, with all the imbalances that can bring. He's in his second year of middle school, and school life is a world away from primary school. There's no one reason for this, but medication is obviously a massive part. Another huge contributing factor is a greater knowledge and understanding from the teaching staff, along with more empathy, and dare I say it, care. They key group have a willingness to embrace differences within children, and to try and focus on the positives, rather than primary school teachers who seemed to think that all of the children should be treated and act in identical an identical manner. When I look back, this part is particularly baffling. it's pretty clear that although he's bright, exams are going to be a real challenge in the future, but we'll gradually deal with that. He's in mainstream education, and enjoying it.

That's the upside. The downside is medication side effects, and that is what we have as a family, he's largely unmedicated at home. Huge mood swings, uncontrollable hysterics at times, so much so that we question the value of the medication with the effect it sometimes has on us as a family. That is one failing in the system, here's the medication, off you go. We've now insisted that he has one to one therapy, where he can talk though his feelings with someone he trust who isn't us, someone who can help him understand, and rational his own feelings and frustrations. The anxiety is  still there, he still sleeps in our room on a fairly frequent basis, but thankfully, the night terrors are now only very occasional. Appetite is also a problem, but we deal with that as best we can. He's still doing a lot of gymnastics and trampolining, and has started playing rugby again at school, if there wasn't sufficient fuel, it would be obvious. He can still be deeply thoughtful and is still tactile and affectionate. he has no problem holding my hand or embracing me in front of people, all of which would get a response of 'get off me you freak' from his brother. Being Josh's dad has been somewhat eventful, , but ultimately, I feel he'll be right. One of his teachers said to me a few weeks ago, " I'm not sure what Josh will do with his life, but it will be special, that's for sure"

He's now smashed the living room window three times. Don't ask.

Stroodel

Loves the fuckwit spaniel, & a mate for the ginger tosser, who is gradually taking to her. Fitted in just perfectly and the boys adore her.

She's a rescue kitten, so it's nice that she's ended up with us.

Glamping

Had a weekend in these pod thingies, and it being Wales, it pissed down in the night, so it was rather pleasant not to have to pack up a wet tent in the morning

Had a bit of a chilly day on the beach, but we did get a few hours of sun which made it worthwhile

As well as finding a sheltered spot in the dunes for a barbie and a cheeky wet

Headed off to Cardiff bay the following day and had a good mooch and lunch next to the water. A few of us ventured onto a R.I.B with 400 horses on the back for a blast across the bay. Scared the crap out of Josh, I've never seen him hold on as tightly to anything before, white knuckles indeed.

A cracking weekend was had by all. Good times.

Gaza

Gaza has no army, no air force, and no navy. It is under attack from Israel, the fourth largest military power on the planet.

Israel has declared that all people within a 3km strip of the border must leave their homes, effectively driving them into the sea.

David Cameron urged Israel to show restraint, and yet since that statement they have killed civilians indiscriminately, including in a school, and a packed market place. America has also admitted to supplying the Israeli's with arms deemed neccessary for urgent purposes.

The UK government has sent £10m relief aid. They'd be better off rebuilding Gaza's only power station, there is little or no electricity after the Israeli's bombed it. Another accident, no doubt.

We are shamed by the non actions of our politicians.

So far during this latest conflict, three Israeli civilians have been killed, three, and yet they are free to commit mass murder on a daily basis.

It's a mad, mad world

The world seems a bit fucked in the head today.

Once again, the leaders of the most powerful nations sit back and do the square root of fuck all as Israel slaughters civilians. In a week of shockingly indiscriminate killing, the death of the four young boys playing on the beach particularly sickened me. They were the same age as my son, just doing as eleven year old boys do, mucking about with their mates.

And then the shooting down over Ukraine of a passenger airliner with nearly three hundred people on board.

Sometimes, the capacity of the human race to heap suffering on each other simply astounds me.

R.I.P Jinxie

Our wonderful little black cat.

October 2005 - 9th June 2014.

Very sudden, but we all got the chance to say goodbye.

Scrubbing up nicely

The Gumph in all their finery

Be careful that time doesn't pass you by. Jeez, they get big quick.

The season ends

On a scoring note

And then a pause for reflection

It seems an awfully long time since this, the very first game

Modern art

Josh loves Banksy, so he was rather excited when he found out about the new picture in Cheltenham.

It's brilliant, and here's Josh as part of it!

Busy times, happy times

Life at Gumph towers has been somewhat of a whirlwhind over the past few week.

In no particular order, Amanda ran the London Marathon, my little sis got married, Charlie went on rugby tour, played in the North Mids cup final and had a trial with the Welsh Exiles.

All rather splendid and emotional stuff. I'm turning into a proper softie.

Amanda was just fantastic running 4.23 on a very hot day. First and last apparently, we'll see. She's still stiff a few days on and still on a real high after a nervous and tense week leading up to it. When you've not done one before, the prospect is full of unknowns. We went up with Josh and her Mum, Charlie had rugby ( more of which later) and her sister, brother in law, their kids and her cousins all came along. We saw here at thirteen and twenty four miles, and although we all went batshit mental, she serenely breezed by, oblivious with ipod on full blast. It was a superb day, London looked great, the atmosphere was ace, and she was bloody marvellous.

No idea where the England floag came from, dubious stuff from my nephew

My sister's wedding was lovely, and I found it a rather emotional day (much the same as seeing Amanda do the marathon, no idea where this sentimentality has come from) It was in the middle of nowhere near Crickhowell, they'd actually married in a civil ceremony in Singapore, this was the big blessing, and what  a bash it was. The church was tiny, we were crammed in like sardines, there was no parking on the single track lane, so we were ferried up in a fleet on minibuses. They'd booked out the Gliffaes, on the banks of the Usk for the weekend, a wonderful part of the world.

It's just great to see her happy again . Adrian is a lovely, kind man, who adores her. The pics are a bit limited, as Josh was in charge of photography, he rather enjoys it, but he managed to lose the camera, so we have a few snatched shots on my phone. He had a high old time, boogieing way into the night. The same couldn't be said of his brother, due to this

Rugby tour.

Thank god it was in Cardiff, and made it fairly easy for him to be on tour and come to the wedding with a bit of running around. I was banned from going until Sunday, just as well really as it's a boozy affair for the dads. Charlie missed the fun stuff on the Saturday, but played in the games on Sunday at Cardiff Arms Park, pretty special. He was also there for the the usual Sunday afternoon shenanigins of tour court which is a good laugh..
He's had a busy few weeks. He stayed with friends when we went to London as it clashed with the North mids cup final. He was gutted not to come to London, and I was gutted to miss the final. Not just because of him, I'm one of the team coaches,and the collective effort by the boys to get there was superb. They lost to a very good side, but they and he have had a tremendous season. I took him to Llandovery college yesterday for a trial with the Welsh Exiles. It's the WRU trying to pick up Welsh qualified players who play for clubs outside of Wales. It was tough, and a high standard, but he performed well. We'll wait to see what comes of it.

We're all shattered after the last few weeks, the kids are on holiday for a couple of weeks, so they can have some down time. These two don't seem too rushed off their feet, the fuckwit spaniel and the ginger tosser, oblivious to all around them.

Not singing hymns and arias

Wales have been a bit rubbish this six nations. I'd like to be flippant and say that we're letting someone else win for a change, but I fear it's lean times ahead for Welsh rugby as a whole.

Here's someone I prefer to watch at the moment, resplendent in his county training kit and the remains of a shiner!

Oh really?

Cuntsmurfs.

Every where I turn today, I am met with cocksockets at every junction.

Steaming great knob wipes with seemingly nothing better to do than piss on my chips.

I shall vanish for the remainder of the day and remain cocooned from the populace at large.

Well, later anyway, when I'm less busy. Until then I shall endeavour to tolerate the never ending stream of assorted loons and spunkmuffins who seem intent on crossing my path. It will not be tolerated with good humour, fuck 'em all bendy.

I stuffed some squid last night. Go me. Fiddly as fiddly thing on a particularly fiddly day in the middle of a fiddly fit.

Onesies

I made the mistake of making my views on onsies rather too loudly within the hearing of my youngest son. We were shopping in Asda and they were selling a particularly hideous selection. I say 'particularly' because they were even more vile than the usual vileness of all onesies.

The comment I passed, which unfortunately he heard, was that anyone wearing a onesie should be shot and then crucified. Josh's mind will always fixate on the shocking, and now each and every time we see anyone in a onesie, or they are mentioned in conversation, Josh will very kindly pass on his father's opinions in a very smug and matter of fact manner.

I've been quite surprised that some people think this to be a rather excessive point of view. Those people of course, being those that have bought the stupid fucking things. It's a fucking romper suit, a babygrow. People who dress up as infants are normally classed as perverts, now it's meant to be socially acceptable?

Wearing one of these makes you look a bit of a cunt.

It really does.

Honestly.

Lurgified

It's that time of year again, I have manthrax. My wife's bedside manner is less the lady with the lamp and more Attilla the Hun, in other words, fuck all sympathy.

That's it really, a rather pointless point, I'm ill, and as is the way of men, I am feeling hugely sorry for myself.

The rapier and the broadsword

The hooligans have been keeping rather active of late, nothing new there, but at completely opposite ends of the sporting spectrum.

Here's hooligan number two, togged up all smart for a gymnastics competition, 8.5 for the vault, 8.25 for the floor

And hooligan number 1 (second left front) fresh from his first match for the county rugby team

There's some big units in that lot!

Whizzy wheels

Amanda has just taken delivery of this

It's ace, and it's the most fun I've had driving since I had my beat up old Spitfire as a kid. Took a bit of piss taking when i turned up at the rugby club in it mind.

Cider I up!

Back in the cold of December we did this

Roll on seven months to a sunny July afternoon, and we finally have this!

8% as of the last testing, how do you like them apples?

Unashamedly proud dad moment

I make no apologies for this indulgence.

Rugby has been a massive part of my life. playing it, watching it, talking about it.

Charlie took to the game as soon as he first started playing tag when he was six. He really started to flourish when he went from tag tag to contact rugby. He'd found his niche. He could hit hard, carry hard, and scrummage hard, and he had a pretty tidy turn of pace. He developed into a good hooker.

He's just been selected for the county squad for next season.

I'm very proud of him, and very pleased for him.