Category: family

Hypo (old)

I was chatting yesterday lunchtime about plans for the weekend, plans for 2025, and just casually mentioned the events that unfolded in my ‘Hypo‘ blog post.

But it reminded me about the first time, years ago, I had to ring for the paramedics to attend to my wife.

A novice at marriage and fatherhood I was more anxious back then, understandably so given the newness of the situation. Being confronted by a sweating, shuddering, gibbering, unresponsive loved one is hard. I don’t know how my wife puts up with me!

Anyway, I’d been slowly feeding her bits of chocolate after the glucose gel pack ran out. There was no improvement after a while so I had to get the professionals in.

When they arrived I was looking after daughter1 and the cats and didn’t think about the implications of just sending the paramedics upstairs.

And then I realised I’d sent 2 strangers up, strangers who entered the room just as my wife returned to consciousness. She’s there, stark naked, spreadeagled on the bed, wondering what the hell is going on.

Time passed, the 2 pros didn’t need to do much other than observations and to advise me to get her something decent to eat.

My first request after she was out of bed, please don’t ring your mum or sister or tell anyone at work that I let 2 complete strangers into the bedroom when you were at your most vulnerable.

I was thwarted.

I probably deserved it too.

2025

I’m somewhat hesitant to wish everyone a “Happy New Year!”, leaning instead towards “All my very best wishes for a peaceful and fun 2025.”

Now 2024 wasn’t the best from personal and health perspectives.

Our beloved Ruby dog passed away at the end of June, just 3 weeks before we went on a holiday close to Hadrian’s Wall, Northumberland. We scattered her ashes at Warkworth beach, I believe her favourite place on earth – it’s certainly the place we first let her run free.

Ruby dog, a white and ginger cavachon. RIP 07/2024. ❤️
Ruby dog, a white and ginger cavachon. RIP 07/2024. ❤️

The girls are doing well, the oldest on her final year of 6th form college before university, and the youngest in the first year of GCSE studies in high school. We’re so proud of both.

Our matriarch Mollie cat is 15-ish now and showing some signs of slowing down, whereas Stella cat who joined us last year is flourishing – so much so that maybe we do need to follow the vet’s advice and reduce her food intake.

My wife is getting progressively more tired of the ineptitude and absence of care shown by her work managers, and her health isn’t great – as I mentioned in another post.

Me, I’m still getting over the covid from 2023 and the whooping cough from earlier in 2024. And the blood pressure meds mean I can’t eat grapefruit or the juice. No great loss there then.

All that remains then, all my very best wishes for a peaceful and fun 2025; life’s what you make it, right?

January credit card bill

Ouch, how the heck did that happen‽ Lots of relatively small payments added together, that’s how it happened.

And 2 lots of vets bills for Pumpkin puppy’s squitty tummy definitely contributed.

Pumpkin puppy in the kitchen, looking cute, her head on one side. She's actually looking at the doughnut my wife is holding above my head. Mollie cat is looking on from the background, wondering what the fuss is about. Mollie, our matriarch, does not like doughnuts.
Pumpkin puppy in the kitchen, looking cute, her head on one side. She’s actually looking at the doughnut my wife is holding above my head. Mollie cat is looking on from the background, wondering what the fuss is about. Mollie, our matriarch, does not like doughnuts.

Look, she’s worth every penny of course, but we really do need to be thinking seriously of pet insurance.

The great thing about the size of the bill is it gives me the ability to focus on my New Year’s resolutions for 2025, but more on that another time.

A Christmas potato

I’m currently sipping gingerbread-flavour mulled wine, at room temperature, from a Glenmorangie-branded thistle-shaped glass.

I’ve just finished peeling the veggies for Christmas dinner. Part-way through the smallest potato escaped from the bag and fell to the kitchen floor.

So I apologised out loud and picked it up, promising to return it to its family and friends. They’re all peeled now ready for chopping for mashed & roast potatoes, everyone back together again, to fulfil their promise, their destiny.

Yes, I said that to the smallest potato, also out loud.

The smallest potato from the bag, peeled, nestling in a pan of water in the middle of the others, all of them ready for action. (Chopping, to start with).

(Apologies if anyone expected a Victorian-esque morality tale).

Food (what a week)!

On Sunday (Mother’s Day over here) my wife and daughter1 had a Chinese takeaway, and not wanting anything off that menu daughter2 suggested we have a kebab from my favourite place (recent food hygiene rating 1/5, delivery time abysmal, great food though).

Donner, chicken, beef chunks, salad, sweet chilli sauce, wrapped in a naan bread. It was my first in a year (I’ve been good following a health scare). Awesome, absolutely perfect.

It was my mother’s in law’s birthday early this the week. We went out to a local chain restaurant and I had an 8oz steak (steak for the 5th time this decade), fries, not enough breadcrumbed spicy prawns but that’s not a biggie, and sweet potato fries on the side.

The steak was ok.

Dessert: oh yes. Apple pie and ice cream.

Yesterday the new technical author asked if anyone in the department wanted her to order breakfast on Fridays. “TAKE MY MONEY!!!”, I said.

So today, just after 10am, I had a spam and bacon (British back) on buttered toast. I’d forgotten to add ‘ketchup’ to the shared spreadsheet she set up but heck, it’ll wait until next week.

Last week my boss (I’ve known him for 30 years) asked if he could walk round to the ‘expensive’ cafe with me and sample one of the beef & bacon burgers (on a brioche bun with salad and ketchup) I’ve been buying myself.

He bought mine today. And it was very, very good.

A double cheeseburger similar to the single patty bacon burger mentioned. (Café’s photo).

And we had visitors at work today, so I got a chance at the leftover buffet. All I could manage was a few cucumber sticks. Crunchy.

It’s the little things in life, isn’t it.

(But I’m definitely not weighing myself for a little while).

Minecraft

Just over a year ago I ran a Minecraft server on a used Windows 8 tablet converted to Windows 10. It soon became apparent it wasn’t the best solution so I looked around and eventually figured out https://mcprohosting.com would give my daughters and me the best and cheapest performance.

We picked a world seed, fired it up and began to explore. My youngest daughter took to it like a, er… child does to new things, and explored the world, made and built things, exploited it as far as it could go, and then pretty much left for places she could more easily interact with her friends. No great loss there.

Before their boredom set in I built a scale model of our home and let the girls furnish it – and populate it with Mollie cat and Ruby dog.

But the very best thing I did was creat a perpetual morion machine using red stone and plungers. Here’s the YouTube video, screenshot not long before I closed the hosting account:

 

Incidentally, if I’d not closed the account and the details hadn’t been removed from the server, Mollie & Ruby would probably be a bit hungry by now, I can’t recall if we left the doors open when we left! (There were plenty of sheep and cows and chickens around, don’t worry)!

Educated

Last week daughter 1 had a sex education lesson, or at least one on the specifics of the human male reproductive system. No problem there. She mentioned the teacher had used a couple of words veering more towards the colloquial than the technical. I became intrigued, because yeah!

The first, describing the male organ, began with a ‘W’, she said. It was easy to simply say ‘willy’, though my wife and I know quite a few more.

The second word up proved to be somewhat problematic, at least to me. It begins with an ‘S’ and is something that emits from the above appendage.

So I did it, I went there, with “…is it a movement of rebellion which started in the late seventies, one characterised by people with spiky hairstyles and outlandish make-up who jumped up and down, spat at each other, and sang songs of disillusionment and hate of the establishment? Is it ‘punks’, rearranged?”

“…?”

My wife jumped to the rescue way too late to stop my squirming. The speed of her response was surely intentional, throwing in the simple phrase “…is it men who go to sea?”

Yes, yes it was indeed that one.

Chess

For the last couple of weeks daughter 2 and I have been playing a game of chess every few days. She’s been learning at school and doesn’t need any tuition from me.

Now that sounds as though I know the game. Nope, I’m a novice. Almost. I’ve played occasional games against computers since the nineteen eighties but it never gained much traction with me; until recently I lost every game.

Since buying the chess set as part of a ‘Classic Games Compendium’ I’ve had to overcome an early dilemma: do I let my daughter win? That’s an easy one, no. We discussed it and I gave her my rationale: when she beats me the first time I’ll be, at that moment, the proudest daddy alive.

Oh, before I forget, a colleague has offered to play me. I’m not ready yet but, just in case, at lunchtimes I’ve been playing against the computer. Level 1. No wins yet but one stalemate 1/2 indicates what I’m going to call ‘improvement’.

For now though, being honest about this, I’m happy to have my ego massaged by beating my baby.

Parenting vs online

Daughter 1 was given a new iPhone 6S as an early birthday present and to reward better-than-expected performance at school. I spent time with her setting up an iCloud child account, then talking about, agreeing, and finally implementing an initial plan within the scope of restrictions available to parents who wish to insulate their wonderful offspring from harm online.

Yes of course it got me thinking about the pissbrains who don’t see the need for it and let their kids do whatever they like online in the pursuit of an easy parenting life.

The inevitable arms race the children are subjected to whilst keeping up with the apps and services their peers must use simply to exist in a modern social sphere is something I don’t want to consider. We’re in an age of devolved responsibility; when the harm’s done, the quite naturally angry parents fail to direct their ire towards the root cause, instead finally bleating that the networks aren’t doing enough to protect ‘children’.

Wand

The girls are really into Harry Potter right now, were really pleased to hear their school will reschedule World Book Day participation. That's entirely incidental to…

My shouted response to a clattering noise from the bathroom above my comfy chair just now, something probably never said before in any language:

"Take your wand out of the bathroom please!"

I haven't seen my wife laugh so much for an age now; maybe if I ask if she was imagining if we had boys?