" So much has happened to me that I don't understand"
(Bruce Springsteen - Walk like a man)
The last three months have been been dominated by the personal, matters that I rarely write about. Having reached sixty earlier this year , perhaps you begin to appreciate that you are in all probability at least three quarters through life. You want to look forward but somehow you keep glancing back. As someone who rarely experiences ill health having a burst abdominal cyst knocked me sideways and left me feeling drained for more than six weeks. Some ten years ago following a shoulder injury a surgeon told me that I was trying to get a 50 year old body to perform like a 30 year old model, well for the first time I struggled to recover quickly and the infection dragged on.
This coincided with a sharp and quite sudden deterioration in my mother's health.
I always felt that I had sympathy and empathy with people experiencing mental health problems. However I felt and still feel ill prepared to cope with my mother's dementia, witnessing a close relation changing on a weekly basis, become less and less rational and more and more distant.
At the same time my grandson had his first birthday; in recent months I've experienced his progress up to the point a couple of weeks back when he walked unaided across our garden. Here I saw one family member learning new skills,developing visibly week by week, whilst at the same time I 've witnessed another member losing the ability to do what my grandson has just achieved.
In June my son got married, a wonderful day, I couldn't be happier for him, now both my children have moved onto the next phase of life, perhaps that also made me more aware that life is moving fast, and that now wasn't the time to pass up opportunities.
It reminds me of a song on the latest Patterson Hood album where he talks of changing the old guard to the new, with the parting line of somewhere between anguish and acceptance. Those words anguish and acceptance sum up my mood, and prompted me to return to the blog, the next few posts will allow me to focus on other areas of life.
Wednesday, 24 July 2013
Tuesday, 30 April 2013
We will survive
It's just before 5pm on Saturday 27th April and Gloria Gaynor is blasting out over the PA system at Kingsmeadow the home of AFC Wimbledon. In front of me hundreds of Dons fans are celebrating on the pitch. Players are mobbed and photographed. Jack Midson is chaired across the pitch. Such relief,such jubilation. The Dons are staying up !
I never want to experience another season like this, I never want to go through this last day drama. It might be great for TV neutrals but for devoted fans of a football club its hell. For the past weeks my mind has often flashed back to Southampton 2000 when Wimbledon FC were relegated from the Premiership which in many ways was when the walls of our former existance started to cave in.
Relegation to the Conference would have stalled our dream; yes we would have still have owned our Club but in spite of the Conference being a de facto 5th Division there remains amongst football fans a large gulf between League2 (as it is now known) and the non league world.
The game itself saw the Dons attack from the off nothing but a win would do. However posts, saves and goal line clearances prevented us from taking the lead. Then in happened, a freekick a Gary Alexander header and we were in the lead, joy was shortlived within minutes Fleetwood equalised. The football gods had twisted the knife cruelly and we stared once again at relegation.
Cometh the hour,cometh the unlikely hero. Curtis Oseno, right back, by no means an outstanding success during his first season at the club, finds himself in the penalty area. Time froze as a Fleetwood defender stuck out a leg and in the process tripping Oseno. The referee didn't hesitate in pointing to the spot, and Jack Midson did the rest.
There was still 25 minutes, 25 of the most torturous minutes I have sopent. The 4th official said 5 additional minutes. How did they arrive at that figure ? The ball was constantly repelled from the Dons area only for it to be launched forward yet again as Fleetwood tried to fashion an equaliser. Finally the Dons regained possession and took the ball into the corner of the pitch. The referee blew the whistle and salvation had been achieved.
Neal Ardley, walked round the ground daughter in one arm, beer bottle in the other to receive the applause of Dons supporters. He had taken over back in October when the writing was very much on the wall. That he fashioned a team capable of digging their way out of the bottom two , even if it was on the last day, will undoubtedly have taught him lessons to carry forward into his management career.
Now we can look forward to the fixtures coming out in June and the new season starting in August.
I never want to experience another season like this, I never want to go through this last day drama. It might be great for TV neutrals but for devoted fans of a football club its hell. For the past weeks my mind has often flashed back to Southampton 2000 when Wimbledon FC were relegated from the Premiership which in many ways was when the walls of our former existance started to cave in.
Relegation to the Conference would have stalled our dream; yes we would have still have owned our Club but in spite of the Conference being a de facto 5th Division there remains amongst football fans a large gulf between League2 (as it is now known) and the non league world.
The game itself saw the Dons attack from the off nothing but a win would do. However posts, saves and goal line clearances prevented us from taking the lead. Then in happened, a freekick a Gary Alexander header and we were in the lead, joy was shortlived within minutes Fleetwood equalised. The football gods had twisted the knife cruelly and we stared once again at relegation.
Cometh the hour,cometh the unlikely hero. Curtis Oseno, right back, by no means an outstanding success during his first season at the club, finds himself in the penalty area. Time froze as a Fleetwood defender stuck out a leg and in the process tripping Oseno. The referee didn't hesitate in pointing to the spot, and Jack Midson did the rest.
There was still 25 minutes, 25 of the most torturous minutes I have sopent. The 4th official said 5 additional minutes. How did they arrive at that figure ? The ball was constantly repelled from the Dons area only for it to be launched forward yet again as Fleetwood tried to fashion an equaliser. Finally the Dons regained possession and took the ball into the corner of the pitch. The referee blew the whistle and salvation had been achieved.
Neal Ardley, walked round the ground daughter in one arm, beer bottle in the other to receive the applause of Dons supporters. He had taken over back in October when the writing was very much on the wall. That he fashioned a team capable of digging their way out of the bottom two , even if it was on the last day, will undoubtedly have taught him lessons to carry forward into his management career.
Now we can look forward to the fixtures coming out in June and the new season starting in August.
Sunday, 28 April 2013
Counting Crows
I can still remember walking into what was Menzies in Brentwood during a lunch break in the early 1990s and hearing the first three tracks on Counting Crows debut album " August and Everything After" . By track three - Mr Jones, I was at the counter buying a copy.
In the twenty years since, this has been one of my most frequently played albums. During that time I have seen them play at a variety of London venues. So when news came of them playing two London concerts a ticket was booked and I made my way to Hammersmith.
Counting Crows have only released one album of new material in the last decade. In a sense they have bought time by releasing live albums and a cover albums ( not of great interest to me). As a result the audience tend to be fans who go back some time. Not surprisingly the songs that are best received come from the early albums.
Round Here, Anna Begins and Rain King all from the debut album feature prominently in the set. After two hours the encore is rounded off with "Holiday in Spain". A thoroughly enjoyable evening, singing along to a band that I've grown with over the last two decades.
In the twenty years since, this has been one of my most frequently played albums. During that time I have seen them play at a variety of London venues. So when news came of them playing two London concerts a ticket was booked and I made my way to Hammersmith.
Counting Crows have only released one album of new material in the last decade. In a sense they have bought time by releasing live albums and a cover albums ( not of great interest to me). As a result the audience tend to be fans who go back some time. Not surprisingly the songs that are best received come from the early albums.
Round Here, Anna Begins and Rain King all from the debut album feature prominently in the set. After two hours the encore is rounded off with "Holiday in Spain". A thoroughly enjoyable evening, singing along to a band that I've grown with over the last two decades.
April 2013
In truth this is a month that I would not choose to revisit. Feeling unwell, just before you go on holiday is never great. Having to visit a doctor to whom English is a second language is an additional issue. As the month comes to an end the infection and inflamation I have experienced has necessitated three courses of anti-biotics, several visits to a nurse and the wound being cauterised by a doctor.
So what else has happened ... we visited Madeira. Here was somewhere that my wife had wanted to visit. Totally understandable it's climate makes it a place of interest for gardeners and botanists. Indeed the botanical gardens are of a high standard .
Madeira is a piece of rock, that statement tells you much. In a week I saw fewer than 5 bicycles. No one ever says "let's go for a gentle cycle ride". Yes it's hilly which normally wouldn't be an issue but I was in no fit state for uphill climbs.
We went on two coach outings which allowed us to see both sides of the island. The north coast was to me the most interesting and Porto Moniz was certainly worth visiting.
I learned about the decline of the banana industry, the result of the EU regulating the length and shape of bananas. I witnessed hill farming, and terraced being cut to produce surfaces for the growing of crops. Strangely the island has little in the way of indigenous wildlife.
A million tourists come on holiday to the island with a further half million arriving aboard ocean going cruise ships. It seems many people return are repeat holidays. The people were hospitable and friendly but a week was enough for me. On the plus side I read a couple of books,rested and saw more sunshine than I'd have experienced at home.
So what else has happened ... we visited Madeira. Here was somewhere that my wife had wanted to visit. Totally understandable it's climate makes it a place of interest for gardeners and botanists. Indeed the botanical gardens are of a high standard .
Madeira is a piece of rock, that statement tells you much. In a week I saw fewer than 5 bicycles. No one ever says "let's go for a gentle cycle ride". Yes it's hilly which normally wouldn't be an issue but I was in no fit state for uphill climbs.
We went on two coach outings which allowed us to see both sides of the island. The north coast was to me the most interesting and Porto Moniz was certainly worth visiting.
I learned about the decline of the banana industry, the result of the EU regulating the length and shape of bananas. I witnessed hill farming, and terraced being cut to produce surfaces for the growing of crops. Strangely the island has little in the way of indigenous wildlife.
A million tourists come on holiday to the island with a further half million arriving aboard ocean going cruise ships. It seems many people return are repeat holidays. The people were hospitable and friendly but a week was enough for me. On the plus side I read a couple of books,rested and saw more sunshine than I'd have experienced at home.
Tuesday, 26 February 2013
On the prowl with the Leopards
There are days when your schedule is empty and other days when you somehow wish you could either divide yourself in three or be able to move from location to location instantly using a "Beam me up Scotty" technique. Saturday 23rd February was such a day.
The Dons were away at Dagenham & Redbridge in a vital League 2 clash, the 40th Anniversary of the Grren Party celebrations were taking place at the Spring Conference in Nottingham and Essex Leopards Basketball team were in the National Trophy Trophy in the less than palatial surroundings of the Braunstone Leisure Centre, Leicester.
Our days away in Wells ruled out attending the Spring Conference, and I was down to be on match report duty at Dagenham, but fortunately a replacement was found and therefore at 1pm I was at the Brentwood Centre to board the coach to Leicester.
Leopards is like a family, there's now about a hard core of 10 supporters who have followed the Club from the old regime days at the London Arena through to the new reincarnation at Brentwood and other venues around Essex.
The game itself was tight. Leopards pulled away but they were reeled back in by some exceptional three point shooting from the Teeside Mohawks. As the final minute began to unwind, the Mohawks were left with the final possession with the scores even. Would Leopards foul early, in the hope that foul shots would be missed, and give them the final shot. No, instead they let Mohawks engineer the final play, fortunate the pressure of the moment meant that the move broke down and so the game went to overtime.
Cometh the hour, cometh the player with the greatest experience. Robert Youngblood, Leopards Player-Coach, a man who led Leopards to the team's greatest successes in the days at London Arena. He had seen it and done it, but now he had to replicate it. On the Leopards first two possessions they went inside to 'Blood, he backed up his defender and scored with turn around jump shots. The early lead in overtime is vital and was it proved as the Big Cats cane home 99-91.
Leopards lifted the Trophy, our fourth trophy in 13 months. In some ways this was the hardest trophy to win. Last season we were the best team in the league, our US players were to quote a phrase a "cut above". This season , new era, new players, new coach. It made the win all the more satisfying.
The Dons were away at Dagenham & Redbridge in a vital League 2 clash, the 40th Anniversary of the Grren Party celebrations were taking place at the Spring Conference in Nottingham and Essex Leopards Basketball team were in the National Trophy Trophy in the less than palatial surroundings of the Braunstone Leisure Centre, Leicester.
Our days away in Wells ruled out attending the Spring Conference, and I was down to be on match report duty at Dagenham, but fortunately a replacement was found and therefore at 1pm I was at the Brentwood Centre to board the coach to Leicester.
Leopards is like a family, there's now about a hard core of 10 supporters who have followed the Club from the old regime days at the London Arena through to the new reincarnation at Brentwood and other venues around Essex.
The game itself was tight. Leopards pulled away but they were reeled back in by some exceptional three point shooting from the Teeside Mohawks. As the final minute began to unwind, the Mohawks were left with the final possession with the scores even. Would Leopards foul early, in the hope that foul shots would be missed, and give them the final shot. No, instead they let Mohawks engineer the final play, fortunate the pressure of the moment meant that the move broke down and so the game went to overtime.
Cometh the hour, cometh the player with the greatest experience. Robert Youngblood, Leopards Player-Coach, a man who led Leopards to the team's greatest successes in the days at London Arena. He had seen it and done it, but now he had to replicate it. On the Leopards first two possessions they went inside to 'Blood, he backed up his defender and scored with turn around jump shots. The early lead in overtime is vital and was it proved as the Big Cats cane home 99-91.
Leopards lifted the Trophy, our fourth trophy in 13 months. In some ways this was the hardest trophy to win. Last season we were the best team in the league, our US players were to quote a phrase a "cut above". This season , new era, new players, new coach. It made the win all the more satisfying.
Sunday, 24 February 2013
Wells next the Sea
For my birthday we were given a two day stay at the Crown Hotel, an old coacing inn judging from the disused stables behind the pub. Our room overlooked Buttlands, a square with some of Wells finest houses.
We walked from Wells to Holkham and back taking our chance to walk along an often near deserted beach. The wind was cold but it didn't matter, somehow in Wells there was time to collect thoughts, walk, think and relax.
On Thursday I went by boat to see the seals at Blakeney Point. My last trip was cancelled owing to rough seas, but this time I was able to witness the colony on the sand bank as well as seeing various varieties of sea birds.
Friday morning gave us the opportunity to doing the bulk of our weeks shopping in the small independent shops. How many main streets still feature a baker,butcher,greengrocer, fishmonger, deli,chemist and sweet shop. No trollies in sight, no buy two get the third free offers, just local produce and people shopping mixing in their community.
Friday lunchtime saw us visit French's fish & chip shop before the drive home back to Essex. I'm still delighted that we found Wells a couple of years ago it offers such a wonderful contrast to many towns in England today.
Monday, 11 February 2013
Being 60
Soon after I started work as a teacher in 1975, I placed a piece of paper above my desk that read " You can retired on 5th February 2013". In fact I chose to retire a couple of years ahead of schedule. However this piece of paper , long since forgotten, was dredged from my memory tlast week when I celebrated my 6oth birthday.
It's a strange feeling being 60, on the one hand I don't feel sitgnificantly different to the way I felt a year ago, five years ago etc. On the other hand society appears to treat you differently once you've reached this landmark. With government determined to make people work longer, some of the benefits that would have at one time come my way have now been postponned to a later date; however I've applied for a Senior Railcard that will cut 33% from off peak train fares.
In fact much of the last week I've spent February doing what I have done for years, namely marking examination papers, however I was determined to mark the occasion. Interspersed with attending the opening of the sports centre at the school where I used to work, preparing for a Parish Council meeting and a day spent earning some extra cash driving a minibus.
I am by nature not a party person, years ago I realised I preferred the company of a few people to the many, and actually I really wanted only to be with those closest to me. To find a location that would suit an age span of 8 months to 60 years.
Some months ago I saw an advertisement for Sunday afternoon tea at Lords. I didn't need any persuasion, this was it. The Long Room at Lords, a champagne tea with cake. OK there were a few obstacles, there was a dress code; now I have long waged against such norms. The MCC only allowed women members in the late 1990s, but Lords is the home of cricket, and the added bonus being able to walk the corridors of the pavilion seeing the trophies, artwork and the England dressing room swung it.
The day itself saw rain fall continuously as we made our way to St Johns Wood. Nevertheless we arrived in good time to have a couple of drinks in the Lords Tavern before making our way to the Pavilion.
A string quartet played as a variety of teas, champagne, sandwiches,scones and cakes were served. After tea we made our way on a tour of the pavilion. I stood looking out from the balcony where England players stand, I saw the honours boards that stand for all to see which players have scored a test century or a fifer at Lords.
An afternoon to remember, an occasion, accompanied by my family and my oldest friend. Splendid.
It's a strange feeling being 60, on the one hand I don't feel sitgnificantly different to the way I felt a year ago, five years ago etc. On the other hand society appears to treat you differently once you've reached this landmark. With government determined to make people work longer, some of the benefits that would have at one time come my way have now been postponned to a later date; however I've applied for a Senior Railcard that will cut 33% from off peak train fares.
In fact much of the last week I've spent February doing what I have done for years, namely marking examination papers, however I was determined to mark the occasion. Interspersed with attending the opening of the sports centre at the school where I used to work, preparing for a Parish Council meeting and a day spent earning some extra cash driving a minibus.
I am by nature not a party person, years ago I realised I preferred the company of a few people to the many, and actually I really wanted only to be with those closest to me. To find a location that would suit an age span of 8 months to 60 years.
Some months ago I saw an advertisement for Sunday afternoon tea at Lords. I didn't need any persuasion, this was it. The Long Room at Lords, a champagne tea with cake. OK there were a few obstacles, there was a dress code; now I have long waged against such norms. The MCC only allowed women members in the late 1990s, but Lords is the home of cricket, and the added bonus being able to walk the corridors of the pavilion seeing the trophies, artwork and the England dressing room swung it.
The day itself saw rain fall continuously as we made our way to St Johns Wood. Nevertheless we arrived in good time to have a couple of drinks in the Lords Tavern before making our way to the Pavilion.
A string quartet played as a variety of teas, champagne, sandwiches,scones and cakes were served. After tea we made our way on a tour of the pavilion. I stood looking out from the balcony where England players stand, I saw the honours boards that stand for all to see which players have scored a test century or a fifer at Lords.
An afternoon to remember, an occasion, accompanied by my family and my oldest friend. Splendid.
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