Saturday 31 March 2012

Tea to the English is really a picnic indoors - Alice Walker

Today didn't start quite as well it should have. The alarm went off at 5am and I jumped into action, I shook Robbie awake and told him that it was already 5am and if he didn't hurry he would be late for his train. He turned over and said that he was getting up, there was no further action for a few moments, then he sat up 'zombie style' but he seemed to be still asleep. In those few moments my brain managed to catch up with the situation and I realised that it was Saturday! I told him that it was Saturday and I was very sorry for waking him up, he said "yes dear" and still in zombie mode he settled back into bed; he was instantly asleep. When we woke up at a more realistic hour for a Saturday Robbie had no recollection of the 5am episode.


A favourite pair of Robbie's Shoes
He came back to bed with a cup of tea for me (and a coffee for him) and announced that he wanted to show me some Dickies. I wasn't entirely sure what he was suggesting until he picked up my laptop and logged on to his favourite shoe website. Apparently the 'Dickies' in question were a particular type of canvas boots. Being Robbie he couldn't just look at one pair of shoes he showed me a whole selection of footwear that he would love to own. I guess he could be doing worse things than lusting after shoes, but our house isn't big enough to accommodate all his footwear.


Looking at the website led to a (very long) conversation about shoes he has known and loved. To be honest it was more of a monologue than a conversation. We had worked our way back to 1980s but I was spared further 'time travel' to his earlies footwear memories because he sent himself to sleep! I can't say it was the most exciting start to a Saturday morning, but seeing Robbie happy and relaxed makes me happy.  I was left feeling that some things are just meant to be. Robbie came to Northampton because of me, but what better place for someone with a passion for shoes, a bus ride away from the shoe museum and a stone's throw from the Doc Shop! 

Patience has its limits. Take it too far, and it's cowardice - George Jackson

Some things are incredibly hard to write about because they are too painful. Such things can leave you feeling diminished and powerless, a shadow of your real self. It is not a good place to be and when you are feeling at your lowest it is almost impossible to gather all your strength and courage to decide that enough is enough and to take a step towards putting things right. At such times it is hard to believe that anything you do will make the slightest difference, but one thing is certain, doing nothing is not an option.


We have faced a situation like that over the last few months. It has been very hard to just keep putting one foot in front of the other to face each day because it seemed that each day brought new difficulties. I am very proud of Robbie, as if coping with near constant pain isn't hard enough he has faced these difficulties, done the right thing and hopefully now after months of worry we can see light at the end of the tunnel. We still have a way to go, but at least we now have reason to hope. My message to anyone else facing a difficult situation or being treated unfairly, is to be strong (I know it is much easier said than done) and not to give up however impossible your situation seems. Stand up for what is right, it will make you feel better and it may enable others to do the same.


Keep away from people who try to belittle your ambitions. Small people always do that, but the really great make you feel that you, too, can become great. -Mark Twain  

Friday 30 March 2012

Too Many Cooks ................

Robbie has many talents, but don't worry I am not going to tell you about all of them! He is surprisingly useful in the kitchen and on a good day we can work well together. The difficulty is that I think of it as my kitchen while he acts as if it is his. To be fair it is not the best designed kitchen in the world and we could do with a lot more storage space, but for the time being we have to work with what we have - and that is where the problem arises. 


I have written before about him being a control freak when it comes to food shopping, and about the way he controls the fridge. It can be challenging, but most of the time I tend to let him get on with it, he may be totally rigid about the everything having to be the correct size and in exactly the right place, but at least he makes an effort. There are times when he goes a bit too far, such as his phase of leaving post-it notes in the fridge, thankfully that is a thing of the past but we still have bitter disputes about sell by dates. I don't expect him to eat anything that has past its use by date, but I am not as fussy especially with things like horseradish sauce. I am the only one in the house that likes it, so how dare he throw it away without asking me! He was in big trouble when he did that - but he will not do it again!!


Now we have a new problem - recycling. We recycle paper, plastic, metal and glass without any problems, but now our local council collects food waste too. We have an indoor caddy for food scraps and an outdoor food bin. We don't have much food waste, mostly it is used tea bags, egg shells, a few crusts and an occasional potato that has passed it's prime. Logically I want the food caddy on the work top near the kettle so that it is easy to put tea bags straight into the caddy. However Robbie takes a different view, he doesn't like it there and he would rather have it on the opposite worktop near the cooker. So for several weeks it has been a case of 'hunt the caddy' - he moves it and I move it back again. As if that is not irritating enough, on Monday morning it had vanished completely. I rang the 'king of the kitchen' and he admitted that he had hidden it in the cupboard under the crisps to hide it from the cat. It seemed like lame excuse, Dave the cat is the 'Robbie' of the cat world, they share a passion for food of all kinds, but even Dave would turn his nose up at egg shells! The caddy has stayed in 'my place' for two days now, so we will see what happens over the weekend. 



Thursday 29 March 2012

Pyjama Problems

Robbie had a better night last night, partly because he didn't dare to go to bed until it was almost time to get up! I know he must be feeling as tired as I am because trying to wake him up this morning was like trying to wake the dead. I think it's a minor miracle that he managed to get to the station in time for his usual train this morning. I am rather worried that he will be sound asleep by the time he gets to New Street, but hopefully it will be a service that terminates there and he will not wake up to find himself heading further north!


On the subject of sleep my son has a problem. Most people think that being one of only a handful of boys at a girls school would be a dream come true, but it can cause unexpected problems. On Friday his school have a pyjama day to raise funds for something or other. He doesn't possess any pyjamas, he usually wears boxers in bed. He does have a onesie but he claims is skin tight and it would attract too much attention if he wore it to school. So it looks as if he will have to pass on the PJs and just go to school in his normal clothes. Chatting to him about this reminded me of a PJ related incident when he was about eight or nine and trying to be very grown up. At 17 he doesn't like to be reminded of the things he did when he was younger but I treasure all those funny little memories.  

2004
There was a funny little episode last week with S. A couple of days before he went to his first sleepover he said he absolutely had to have some deodorant – Sure for Men Sensitive to be exact. We went to get him some deodorant, but while at the shop he asked for FCUK pre shave face wash. I pointed out that he doesn't shave but he said "it says pre shave, and I will shave one day so it is ideal for me". He went to the sleepover with his grown up toiletries and his new leather jacket looking really cool. A couple of days after he got back I asked him if his mates had been impressed by his grown up stuff. He gave me a long stare, then in a very serious voice he said "you spoiled the effect mum, you packed my Buzz Lightyear pyjamas!" 

Wednesday 28 March 2012

Best Foot Forward

Robbie and I had a 'frank exchange of views' last night, I know it is silly to argue about trivial stuff but honestly how hard is is for a man to understand the difference between a dish cloth and a floor cloth!! We have the sense not to argue for long, there are so many more important things in life that it is foolish to argue about trivia.

We had a disrupted night which left me feeling useless or perhaps helpless is more accurate. I woke at 2.15am to find Robbie in agony, he was crying with pain and running through his extensive repertoire of expletives. He couldn't move and his leg was in spasm to such an extent that you could feel it 'jumping'. There was absolutely nothing I could do to help or to ease his pain. It seemed to go on forever, but in reality it was perhaps half an hour or so before the pain eased slightly. He was still moaning with pain at around 3am when exhaustion finally allowed him to fall  asleep. Sleep eluded me for at least another hour, I just lay there worrying and feeling useless.

This morning we had to get up a bit earlier than usual, to give him more time to get ready. I took him to the station so that he had extra time to walk to the platform. I knew he was worried about how he would walk from the station to the office, he mentioned it several times in the car. He said that he would just take his time and he would be OK. I wish I could do something to help, I feel so helpless. As he got out of the car he said "Best foot forward". I am so proud of him, even on a bad day like this he just keeps going. He doesn't give up and somehow he faces the day with a smile.

Monday 26 March 2012

I often regret that I have spoken; never that I have been silent - Publilius Syrus

I always look forward to the weekends, it is good spending time with Robbie, and it is nice to take life at a calmer pace after all the demands of the week. On week days we are out of bed by 5am so the luxury of a lazy morning with Robbie is one of the best bits of the weekend. Generally we have things planned on Saturdays so Sunday is our lazy morning but one way or another Robbie always manages to burst my bubble. On Sunday morning we were cuddled up in bed just enjoying the moment when Robbie announced that he had rearranged the meat draw in the fridge. I asked if I was so boring that he had to think about cleaning the fridge, he looked a bit confused and after a brief sorry he cuddled closer. All was well for a few minutes then at the point that I should have had his full attention he announced that he wanted to wash the car later on! Needless to say that the moment was lost. I despair of him sometimes.

Sunday 25 March 2012

The best remedy for a short temper is a long walk - Jacqueline Schiff

The church in Abington Park 
Robbie and I don't manage long walks these days, but if you pace yourself it is surprising what you can do. We are so lucky to have a very beautiful park on our doorstep, whatever the season there is always beauty around. We always enjoy a visit to the park on crisp winter afternoons we retreat to the Park Cafe for a warming cup of coffee, but when the weather is kinder we prefer to sit on a bench watching the squirrels chase around under the trees or to sit by one of the lakes watching the ducks. If you are weighed down by the troubles of the world, watching ducks is the best medicine, you can't watch their antics without smiling.   


St Peter and St Paul Abington
The Church of St Peter and St Paul is at the heart of the park, it looked magnificent in the sunshine and we had to stop for a moment to take a photo. The trees look beautiful at this time of year, suddenly there is blossom and signs of new growth all around us. The park was busy with people having fun and enjoying a lovely spring afternoon, and as we walked I felt grateful to those people who cared enough to provide this wonderful park for the town all those years ago. I wonder what the people of my own time will pass on to future generations? We have a lot to live up to.


Enjoying the early spring sunshine
I hardly ever appear in photos on the blog, but this is a rare glimpse of me sitting on a bench with Robbie, enjoying an ice cream in the sunshine before heading home

A White Elephant

The son who must not be named had to go to the dentist, so I picked him up from school and drove him to the surgery. Our route took us past a large traffic island and the edge of Abington Park, the traffic island was planted with daffodils and so was a wide slope at the edge of the park. I pointed out that the daffodils were in full bloom and I said that when I see daffodils the words of a poem pop into my head. My son said "yes I know" and he promptly quoted the whole first verse of the Robert Herrick poem To Daffodils. "Fair daffodils, we weep to see you haste away so soon, As yet the early-rising sun has not attained his noon. ...................." He went on to say that he doesn't like daffodils because they flower so briefly and then seem to stand there looking dead for months. I know exactly what he means, daffodils always make me feel sad too and I agree with his sentiments about the display of daffodils in the park. It has a big sign saying "Field of Hope" but he says that it inspires the opposite of hope because the daffodils look dead for most of the year, with just a couple of weeks of colour in early spring. I still find it fascinating when he allows me little glimpses of his 'aspie' thought process, I may only give a passing thought to contradictions such as the field of hope, but such things really trouble him because they don't make sense.


On our way back we somehow got on to the naming of pubs. I told him that I disapproved of the modern trend for changing pub names because the old names often had historical significance. He asked what I meant and I said that The White Elephant was a good example of a pub whose name reflected it's history. He asked if a white elephant had once died there; I glanced across at him because I thought he may be teasing me but he was completely serious. He has always struggled with idioms because he trys to take them literally, but he learnt the meaning of most of the commonly used idioms long ago, so it was a bit of a surprise when I realised that he did not know what a white elephant was. I explained that we use the term white elephant to describe something that has value but is of no practical use and a bit of a burden to the owner. 


The pub in question was built as a rather grand looking hotel in the days when Northampton had a racecourse. I expect they thought that they would build a good business providing accommodation and refreshments for racegoers. However soon after it was built the racing stopped; there were public access rights across the course and a series of accidents between 1901 and 1904 led to the banning of all races. The last race took place on 31st March 1904 and the racecourse became a park (still known as the Racecourse). So Kingsley Park Hotel was left on the extreme edge of town (at that time) without an obvious clientèle. It became known locally as the 'White Elephant' and in due course the name was changed to The White Elephant.

It is odd, a simple trip from the dentist led to discussions about poetry, linguistics and local history. There are many times when that boy has me tearing my hair out, but I treasure these special times when we have interesting conversations. He couldn't resist pushing his luck, as he got out of the car to go back to school he said that I knew so much about 'the olden days' that it sounded as if I remembered them personally - cheeky monkey!

Thursday 22 March 2012

One cat just leads to another - Ernest Hemingway

According to my husband I have some sort of 'weird magnet' that makes me an interesting target for assorted 'odd bods'. He does have a point even when I visit new places I seem to attract the 'square pegs' of this world. Last autumn I visited the Severn Valley Railway for the first time, as I stood in Kidderminster  Station chatting to Robbie a little man (he was considerably shorter than me) entered the station area from the platform and marched straight up to me, shook my hand and launched in to a long explanation of why steam trains are better than diesels. Suddenly he stopped talking about trains, informed me that he had important things to do and marched off in the direction of the refreshment room. Robbie thought it was very amusing that the man singled me out when he had a whole crowd of people to choose from. 


I had a similar odd experience earlier this week. I gave my daughter a lift to work, on the other side of town. Her office is located in an area that was once a village but it got swallowed up by the town many years ago. I dropped her off, turned the car around and I was just about to pull away when a middle aged man approached the car and knocked on my window. He didn't look like a mad axe man so I opened the window a little and he asked me if I would like to take him to town. I was rather shocked, I am not in the habit of picking up strange men especially before 9am! I told him that I was not going to town, he said "never mind, I didn't really want to go to town anyway". It may not be a village any more but clearly they have at least one contender for the position of village idiot! 


I don't know why I have such a well developed 'weird magnet' perhaps it is because I find people interesting. A friendly smile costs nothing and makes everyone feel better, very often you find that people who seem a bit odd at first are very interesting when you get to know them. The trouble is I seem to attract the waifs and strays of the animal kingdom too. Looking back through the blog I am reminded that we have had a parade of uninvited guests over the years. A toad once came through the cat flap to visit us. On two separate occasions birds have fallen down the chimney - and lived to tell the tale because I went to to considerable trouble to rescue them. One was a collared dove and the other was a huge and rather stupid pigeon. Then there was Dave the cat, he turned up ill and exhausted and set up home in one of our recycling boxes - he is still here! Now there is 'Bernard' the cat who kept coming in and hiding in the utility room, she is still here too.


The problem is that I don't have infinite resources. When Dave found us a few years ago we were strictly a one cat family, but he was so poorly and so much in need of someone to care about him that before I knew what had happened we had become a two cat family. I had no idea how much time effort and money it would take to restore him to health. He is now very much part of the family, in fact he thinks that he runs the house. He and Oreo are good friends and we love them, but they are expensive to to maintain and looking after them is time consuming. Bernard is really sweet and she is becoming less timid but we really can't cope with a third cat. I can't turn her out and all my efforts to find her original owner have proved fruitless, so we really have to find a new home for her.
According to the vet she is about 3 and in good health. She is very clean, we haven't had a single accident since she moved in. She is timid but she enjoys attention, she just needs gain trust in the people around her. She is scared of other cats and she tends to hiss if they go too near her, but she is not vicious, she just keeps out of their way. Please contact me if you know anyone who can offer her a loving home.

Tuesday 20 March 2012

The Wrong Head

After the drama of the Lego men on Sunday, I was quite literally left to pick up the pieces. By Sunday evening Robbie had lovingly restored most of the Lego people to their original state but there was still a small jar of parts that required attention. 


As soon as Robbie had been despatched to work, I settled down to solve the puzzle. Robbie had most of the body parts for the palace guard but it was the wrong head. So at 6.20 am I was looking at mug shots of Lego men on the computer trying to identify the 'wrong' head. Just before 7am I finally identified the head, it was the head of the man in the dinosaur suit. The dinosaur was not among the 'downstairs' Lego people and a quick trip to the bookcase to inspect the the 'upstairs' Lego men revealed that he wasn't there either. However the head of the palace guard had mysteriously reappeared, placed neatly in front of the top row of minifigures.


It didn't require a crystal ball to work out who was responsible. I woke my son and threatened him with cruel and unusual punishment if the dinosaur didn't reappear right now - it did!! It is easier to deal with my son when Robbie is not around because I don't have an echo. I explained to him that I understood that he may have thought it was funny at first, but it had upset Robbie and caused me untold grief so now it had to be put right without any more fuss. He went back to check his room but he came back empty handed saying that he was sure that there were no more 'hostages'.


I always have plenty to do before heading off to work, but on Monday as well as dealing with the food shopping and the laundry, I had to sort out the Lego men. Believe it or not I found a site that sells spare parts for Lego minifigures. I put in an order to replace a missing baseball bat, graduation certificate, and helmet and I bought some spare bases. I don't think my son was responsible for most of these things, they probably went up the hoover (over time not all together) but I am not going to tell Robbie that or he will hide the hoover!


I also catalogued every single figure and noted the accessories that it should have, so that in future Robbie can check them whenever the mood takes him.  Now hopefully I can stop thinking about minifigures for a while otherwise I really might scream!! Just for once it would be nice to have an uneventful few days.

Sunday 18 March 2012

The Naming of Parts

Sunday morning should be quiet and harmonious, especially on mother's day, but it wasn't. Robbie's rather splendid birthday card must have put ideas into my son's head because Robbie awoke to find that his Lego men had been interfered with, legs, heads hats and hair had been reassigned to different bodies leaving a very odd looking crew. To say that Robbie was incandescent with rage would be a gross understatement! He has been rampaging around like a troll with tooth ache.


He has been on the internet checking the design of each mini figure to make sure that each head was reunited with the correct body parts and accessories. He got on his hands and knees and crawled around the floor in search of missing body parts. For some reason the act of getting on his knees caused him to begin chanting, he ran through every expletive and insult in his vocabulary (and a few that weren't). When I opened the bedroom door I almost jumped out of my skin to find him on his hands and knees apparently worshipping the minifigures on the bookcase. Having run out of expletives he was running through a selection of dark threats and insults. It is the second time this week that his actions have left me speechless. I just stood there wondering if it was time to call for the men in white coats. He looked up and announced that he had a headless guardsman and the baseball player had lost his bat. I have a feeling it is going to be a very long day!!

Saturday 17 March 2012

Getting My Own Back

Thursday was my son's parents evening, an event that neither of us were looking forward to very much. I was just anxious about getting to each appointment on time but he was anxious about what they would say about him and even more anxious about what I might say. As we drove towards the school he began his lecture, I must not say anything embarrassing, I must not make comments about the teachers and I must not under any circumstances talk to any of his friends or their parents. I have never set out to be an embarrassment to my children, but it seems that it comes naturally!


As we got out of the car he cast a critical eye over my choice of clothing and suggested that I should leave my coat in the car! I assured him that there was nothing wrong with my coat and I suggested that he should pay more attention to his own clothes. We signed in and I noticed fascinated that the 'merekat effect' is still in evidence. As one of only a handful of boys at a girl's school it is not surprising that he turns heads. What is more surprising is that he seems completely oblivious of the rows of heads popping up following him with their eyes as he passes.


We sat in the library looking around and waiting for our turn to speak to his psychology teacher. The room was busy with teachers sitting at tables around the edge of the room, with chairs in the centre of the room for the people waiting for their turn to talk to a teacher. Most of the teachers were busy talking to parents and students, but one or two were sitting there all alone. I quietly asked my son who was the 'billy no mates' sitting opposite us looking miserable. I received a glare in reply and an instruction to stop being embarrassing. I couldn't resist teasing him just a bit, it's fun being an embarrassment to your offspring. I pointed out that judging by his glasses, the chap in question seemed to have been taking fashion advice from Brains on Thunderbirds. My son tried hard to keep a straight face, but failed miserably, then with a sly grin he announced that 'Billy no mates' really was called Bill. Then it was time for us to see the teacher and his smile vanished again.


I think it came as a surprise to my son that each of his subject teachers were very pleased with his progress and they had lots of good things to say about him. I was impressed with the change I could see in my son, he has always been bright, but this school has nurtured him as an individual and given him confidence to be himself rather than just being one of many. He was very lucky to get into this school, I know some people thought I was mad to let him change schools for the sixth form, but it was the best decision we ever made.    

Friday 16 March 2012

Scary Shoes

Robbie enjoyed his birthday very much, it would have been nice to have him home a bit earlier, but things don't always work out as planned (especially when London Midland are involved!). We had a happy evening together and he was able to tell me all about his day, it seemed to involve a lot food so perhaps it is a good thing that birthdays only happen once a year! He had two breakfasts, a lovely lunch and his favourite meal in the evening, no wonder he was too full to have any birthday cake! So we decided to save the cake until today.


Life with Robbie is never dull, I have learnt to expect the unexpected, but last night I was lost for words. Watching Robbie try on his new Dr Martens was a surreal experience. He was wearing a white T-shirt and his favourite very bright and very baggy M&M design PJ bottoms when he decided to try on his new Dr Martens. The shoes are white with brown trim and in my opinion they are absolutely horrible, but Robbie fell in love with them and because I love him very much I bought them for him as an early birthday present. He sat for a little while just stroking and admiring the shoes, then he decided to try them on.


He deliberated about the colour of the laces for a few minutes, he asked if I thought the white or the brown laces would look best. It really made no difference, the shoes would still look horrible, but I chose brown, so Robbie decided on white. The shoes looked so wrong, the look was not helped by the black socks that he was wearing. Not to mention the M&M PJ bottoms. He walked up and down the lounge, one hand on his hip and asked me what I thought. I am rarely lost for words, but on this occasion I was speechless. What I was actually thinking was that he looked like a cross between Larry Grayson and Phil Mitchell, but perhaps it wasn't the moment to say so!


My heart sank when he announced that he would be wearing his new shoes to work today, I am not sure the railways are ready for a shock like that, but I couldn't change his mind. He is wearing them with jeans and a casual shirt, personally I think they are hideous but I will leave you to decide....... 

Thursday 15 March 2012

I'm not 40, I'm eighteen with 22 years experience - Author Unknown

Today is the day! The big 40 has finally caught up with Mr B. It may be his birthday, but it is also a normal working day so we had to get up even earlier than usual to allow Robbie to have a few minutes to open his cards and presents. He had chosen to have money for his birthday, but he had lots of nice presents too. A couple of pairs of cufflinks, aftershave, a retro mug based on the old Ladybird books, Lego minifigures, Lego books, a reproduction of an Eagle Annual, as well as various other bits and bobs. He also had two pairs of Dr Marten Shoes, one pair chosen by him and so hideous that they defy description, the other pair chosen by me and much more sensible. They are red 1461's (made in England!) he seemed to be very pleased with them - and almost as pleased with the Dr Marten carrier bag that they came in!


All too soon it was time for him to get ready for work. It would have been nice to have a long lazy day together, but the 'real world' dictated otherwise. Before long Robbie was dressed in his dark suit with a smart white shirt and his new 'keep calm and carry on' cufflinks. He had stashed his Lego minifigures in his briefcase along with a set of farm themed novelty erasers. I had bought them to remind him of our trips to the Farm Shop and he seemed delighted with them, apparently he used to collect erasers - why does that not surprise me!


He was careful to reassure me that he isn't going to change just because he is 40, I don't think he is very keen on the idea of becoming old and sensible. He needn't worry, according to Jerry M. Wright "The first sign of maturity is the discovery that the volume knob also turns to the left." If that is true there is danger of Robbie becoming more mature that any time soon, he still likes his music loud and annoying. 

You can't turn back the clock. But you can wind it up 
again. Bonnie Prudden

Wednesday 14 March 2012

You are only young once, but you can stay immature indefinitely - Ogden Nash

When I was looking back through my recent blog posts, I realised that I had forgotten to mention an interesting little incident that happened while we were in Earls Barton on Saturday. While we were in Jeyes shop I was busy looking at recipe books and other bits and bobs when I noticed that Robbie was missing. I thought it was a bit odd because it is quite hard to lose him - I know because I've tried! I called his name and at first there was no reply, then a rather distant and reluctant voice announced that he was 'here'. Guided by his voice I headed in the direction of 'here' and found him in a quiet corner of the toy department. He was kneeling down at a little wooden table with a wooden railway track layout on it. He was guiding a wooden Thomas the Tank Engine around the track with his hand while making a selection of engine noises! I asked him if was about to be 4 or 40 and I was answered with a shrug, he told me that it was just too tempting.


Robbie continued to play trains while I loitered in the toy department grateful that this part of the store was relatively quiet. Then after what seemed like hours Robbie stood up, he had spotted some diecast versions of Thomas the Tank Engine and his friends. At first Robbie seemed preoccupied by changes in the design of the packaging, but then he spotted one called Spencer that he would quite like to buy. Thankfully it didn't come to that, we couldn't possibly accommodate another collection of engines, the house is bursting at the seams as it is. He left the shop with a big smile and big plans to build a new layout for his model trains - that should keep him out of trouble for a while!

Monday 12 March 2012

The man who reads nothing at all is better educated than the man who reads nothing but newspapers - Thomas Jefferson

There are many things that I love about Robbie, but his choice of newspaper is is not one of them. I detest the thing I resent the waste of paper and I resent the waste of money, I would rather he spent it on a railway magazine, even if he spent it on  Lego or any of his other many and varied obsessions it wouldn't seem so pointless. I have managed to change or modify many things about Robbie over the years, but he remains stubbornly attached to his limp lefty newspaper, so I do my best to ignore it.

Yesterday evening we settled down in the lounge, me with my laptop and Robbie across the room with his newspaper. I was lost in my own little world writing the blog when I glanced up to see Robbie holding his phone out to the cat, and more worrying still the cat was looking at it as if he was reading a text! I asked Robbie what he was doing and with a totally serious expression he said that he was showing the cat the time to prove that he had to wait another hour until feeding time. 

I shook my head in disbelief and settled back to writing the blog. A little later completely out of the blue Robbie asked "How much does mum pay for David's socks these days". It seemed such an odd question that I had to ask him to repeat it in case I hadn't heard him properly. I told Robbie that I have never given a passing thought to the price of my step father's socks - but thanks to Robbie I have now! Once he get's started on a subject there is no stopping him and I heard all about the advantages of loose top socks, a very good deal he had spotted; the price, the colour, it went on an on until I begged him to stop.

Finally he was quiet and I went back to what I was doing. Peace reigned for a little while, then Robbie's voice rang out asking "Have you noticed that you don't often see radishes in the supermarket these days?" I thought about it for a minute and decided to try my luck with a one word answer - no! It was worth a try, but it just encouraged him to provide more radish related information. I listened for a while but I really couldn't summon up much interest in radishes. I asked if he had ever eaten a radish and he informed me that he hadn't. I informed him that he hadn't missed much! I told him that if he was that interested I would buy him some radishes, but he quickly declined and told me that it just was something he had been reading about. 

So now yo know why I dislike that dratted newspaper, it puts ridiculous ideas in his head!

Sunday 11 March 2012

Be on the alert to recognize your prime at whatever time of your life it may occur - Muriel Spark

Robbie has a birthday coming up this week, much to his surprise he is going to be 40! So after another challenging week at work, his birthday celebrations began yesterday with a trip to the Doc Shop. My mum had given him money to buy himself a pair of boots. It was a lovely drive and it was nice to have a whole day together and to be able to please ourselves what we did.


When we got to the Doc Shop Robbie spotted some shoes that he liked, but they didn't have his size. Then he seized upon a pair of black and white boots covered in a sort of zebra hair material (not real zebra skin!). His eyes lit up as he stroked the boots, he really wanted them, but I'm afraid that my involuntary groan of horror put him off. He already has one pair of DM's that he can't wear in daylight, so another seemed a bit excessive, and then of course there was the question of how to keep them clean........ I cant help it, I am just more practical than Robbie, but when I stopped to think about it my mum would have wholeheartedly approved of black and white Zebra print boots, when it comes to shoes (and clothes) she and Robbie are on the same wavelength!


Robbie bounced around the shop like Tigger and he fell in love with a couple of other designs, but they did not have his size and he decided against the zebra print boots. He chose to save the money and to go back in a couple of weeks when they have had more stock delivered. He likes the thought of going back again and  in the meantime he can enjoy spending the money in his head many times over.


Earls Barton Church
I let him choose what else he would like to do that day, and he chose to have lunch at the Apothocoffee Shop in Earls Barton and of course to spend a little while in the book department at Jeyes! It was a very nice unhurried day and as always it was fun just enjoying happy moments together.

Saturday 10 March 2012

Tears at times have the weight of speech - Ovid

I will probably get into trouble for writing this, but sometimes you need to find words to express the way you really feel. In the last couple of weeks Robbie has said two things that have brought tears to my eyes. The first was so unusual and so out of character that I had to check with him that I had understood him properly. He said that he felt as if he should wear a label saying ‘I may look alright but I’m not’. Robbie has had to cope with spina bifida throughout his life and he has such a good attitude towards his disability that most people don't even notice it - he just gets on with life. So his comment came as a surprise.

He explained that it was very hard to cope with chronic pain. I am well aware of that, but I learnt long ago that he doesn’t want to be treated differently because of it. When I have tried to avoid situations or protect him in various ways I have had my head bitten off and been told loud and clear “I'm not a (insert expletive) cripple you know”. He is determined to be Robbie, a person who just happens to have a disability rather than being defined by it. He can do almost everything that everyone else can; he just needs to pace himself and to be creative about the way he does things. He doesn’t need a lot of fuss, all it takes is just a little bit of understanding and the freedom to do things his own way without constantly having to make reference to his disability. His comment reminded me that even if he is his usual bubbly self with a big smile on his face it is still hard, but in true Robbie style he is ‘just getting on with life.

The second thing that he did that brought tears to my eyes was something he wrote on Facebook

“....as they say, 'behind every great man, there's a great woman', I am far from great, but I would not have survived the last two and a half weeks, without the love and support of Mrs J! Thank you Mrs J, I love you very very much x ♥ x”

I am certainly not a great woman, just a very determined one. I am like a Jack Russell Terrier, I may lack height but I am as brave as a lion and I never give up. Robbie isn’t the only man in my life with a hidden disability; my son has autistic spectrum disorder. He manages reasonably well these days, but it hasn’t always been that way and there have been times when it has taken all of my strength and determination to ensure that he had the right support. Apparently I became a bit of a legend among his school friends because on a couple of occasions I had to deal with teachers who failed to take account of his specific needs. Thankfully most of his teachers were excellent.



Robbie’s words meant a lot to me. I am pleased that he values my support, I often feel useless because there is so little that I can do to make things easier for him. Perhaps just listening and trying to understand is more helpful than I realised - and heaven help anyone who makes things harder for him!

Robbie, I may be understanding but I don't miss much - don’t think I haven’t noticed that the quote you chose was suspiciously close to a Groucho Marx quotation!

“Behind every successful man is a woman, behind her is his wife.”
                                                 Groucho Marx

Wednesday 7 March 2012

First Catch Your Cat .......................

The saga of the cat continues, every time we put her out she sits outside meowing all day and all night, then just when you notice that it has all gone quiet you realise that she has broken in again! We can't go on like this so I decided that today I was going to take her to the vet to see if she has been chipped. There were just two small problems, catching her and getting her into the cat carrier. 


Yesterday evening my son and daughter caught her - eventually! She had hidden herself behind the fittings in the utility room again and it took forever to coax her out. Finally she was confined to the kitchen (where we hoped she wouldn't be able too hide, but she had other plans. She made her escape and this morning she had to be coaxed out from under a bed! 


Once again she was confined to kitchen and when the rest of the family had been despatched to work and school, I was left to get her into the cat carrier. There was just one problem the cat had decided that there was no way that it was getting into the cat carrier. She grew several extra legs (or at least it seemed like that), she did some amazing gymnastics, the only thing she didn't do was get into the cat carrier. Then after about ten failed attempts I managed to get her in and lock the door of the carrier behind her. I took a few minutes to calm her and let her get used to the carrier before heading off to the vet.


According to the vet she is a female and aged about three. She is not significantly under weight, but she is timid. She is not on any missing lists, I have checked with every group in the area, so the vet thinks that the best thing to do is to look for another home for her.                     

Monday 5 March 2012

To the Farm Shop and Beyond

Robbie was really tired and in a lot of pain at the weekend, it had been a very long and challenging week. We didn't have the energy to go racing around finding exciting things to do, but it does you good to get out and do something different. So after dealing with all the routine household tasks we got in the car and took the scenic route through the Northamptonshire countryside to the farm shop. We are very lucky to live in such an attractive county, I always find the beautiful views and the happy memories associated with the little bit of the county that we visited on Saturday very uplifting. 


When we got to the Farm Shop Robbie went off in search of dripping and he was very excited when he found it because they didn't have any last time. We had a look round and chose some free range eggs (the main reason for our visit). Then as we approached the payment desk Robbie noticed some pork scratchings which he absolutely had to have. I thought he was teasing me at first, I didn't know that people actually eat them, I thought they were pet treats or something. Apparently I was wrong, according to Robbie they are a great delicacy but they don't look or smell like something I would want to taste! 


I tried to ignore the chomping noises coming from the passenger seat on the journey back to Northampton but it was challenging. Apparently it is not possible to eat pork scratchings quietly, and he was not amused when I suggested that maybe he should suck them instead! My disapproval didn't seem to spoil his enjoyment because the chomping was interrupted every so often by little expressions of delight and the word "Bostin". Not a word that we are familiar with in Northampton!


According to the Urban Dictionary Bostin means 'brilliant; fantastic; excellent; derived from the Anglo-Saxon 'bosten', meaning 'something to boast about' and now used almost exclusively in the Greater Birmingham area of the UK'


I can't complain too much about Robbie's treats, he bought me a can of Root Beer on Friday (as a thank you for supporting him through a very difficult week).
It was heaven, I love Root Beer, but I know it is not good for me. I also know that Robbie's treats are not good for him, which is why they are only very occasional purchases. 


I don't want to make it sound as if our whole day revolved around food, but later that afternoon we went out for a meal. Just something very ordinary, but it was special because we were together and for once we had a couple of hours without any other demands on our time.

Sunday 4 March 2012

Cat Wars

Since just before Christmas we have been targeted by a rather beautiful cat. It kept getting in through our cat flap and hiding in the utility room. Getting it to leave proved easier said than done, each time we thought it had gone we locked the cat flap and blocked it up but within a day the cat would reappear as if by magic. I began to think that either it was a time traveller or a ghost, but the muddy footprints and mess that betrayed it's presence suggested that it was all too real. The utility room houses an accumulation of clutter that needs to be kept but doesn't really have a home, everything from deckchairs to the cat carrier. Robbie was afraid that it would hide behind the fittings or the general clutter and die of starvation, but it is still very much alive.


It would meow at the kitchen door asking to be let in but when we opened the door to the utility room it would vanish behind the fittings again. It became a bit of a myth, we could hear it, we see it's footprints but we never saw more than the tip of it's tail vanishing behind the shelves. Then last Thursday it came back again, and it had a swearing match with Dave (the cat) through the door that connects the kitchen with the utility room. That was the last straw, my daughter decided that something had to be done, but being a busy young woman she set her brother the task of catching the cat. It took him all evening but eventually the cat was caught and found to be healthy and apparently well fed. Having made sure that it could not get back in we evicted it in the hope that it would go home, but it sat by the window all night and meowed loudly. 


The cat is a very unusual colour, from a distance it looks as if it should be a ginger tabby but it has created just in 'grey scale'. On closer inspection it has a faded ginger colour mixed with grey and black, with two white feet and white under it's chin and down it's chest. So I think that makes it a tortoiseshell of sorts. I have read that it is very unusual to get a male tortoiseshell so it is probably a girl (it is not keen to let me inspect it from that angle) but I think it looks like a male. It was too complicated to keep calling it 'the cat' because we have two cats of our own, so we have called it Bernard after Nursie in Blackadder, a woman with a man's name.


We congratulated ourselves because we could not hear the cat meowing outside on Friday night, but our celebrations proved premature. A trip to the freezer (in the utility room) on Saturday revealed the truth - the cat has got in again!! It is unbelievable, I have no idea why it has chosen us. Robbie's cousin said "This kind of thing is going to happen when Robbie and Dave start surfing the internet looking for ginger cats..."

Friday 2 March 2012

You were born an original. Don't die a copy - John Mason

Over the years many people have asked me why I write the blog, Usually I tell them that it stops me from harming Robbie because writing things down helps to get it out of my system. That is only part of the truth, I have written a blog for many years now and before that I used to write a diary. Mostly it is for me, because writing helps me to process things and it is a nice way to preserve nice memories and to remember the little details of life that are so quickly forgotten. The other day Robbie told me that one of his friends who is a regular reader of the blog had told him that one thing comes through loud and clear - that I love Robbie very much. I'm pleased about that. Maybe we are a bit of an unconventional couple, but it works and that is all that matters. 


All the coverage about leap year made me wonder what I was doing on Feb 29th on previous leap years and how much things have changed. This was my blog post from Feb 29th 2004, our 'nameless' son was 9 then. 

"the 'son with no name' gave me the most extraordinary reason to avoid having a bath, apparently if children are clean witches can smell the children but if they are dirty the witches just smell the dirt and the children are safe. I was tempted to point out to him that with all his aftershave, body spray and deodorant a witch would have problems breathing, never mind smelling! He claims that he got this information from reading The Witches by Roald Dahl, he was a bit obsessed by the book a while ago. Last year he became convinced that a teacher at his school was a witch because she had a little mole or wart at the side of her nose. No one could convince him that he was wrong and for the whole year he lived in fear of her turning him into a mouse. The problem has been solved this year because that teacher does not teach him.

'the nameless one' had a very stern talk with me this morning. It seems he finds his nicknames embarrassing (he has several), he has insisted that I must not reveal his nicknames to anyone else and I must only ever call him by his own name or Flash! I will try my best, but old habits are hard to break".




How times change! We can't get him out of the bathroom now. As far as I know, he he doesn't give a passing thought to witches these days, and he has survived to the ripe old age of 17 without being turned into a mouse. Remembering not to use his embarrassing nickname is still a struggle for me, but these days he would kill me if I called him Flash! That was the name he adopted during his 'spy phase' something which he does not wish to be reminded of.


Most of all the old diary entry reminds me that times change and people change too, sometimes life is tough, but we are a strong family because there is a lot of love and we accept each other as we are, unconventional and unique. I am glad that our son is confident enough to be himself, it is hard growing up with Asperger syndrome and I am very proud of the way he copes.  


Robbie was certainly born an original and I wouldn't change him for the world (well not much anyway!!). He may have a very odd taste in footwear, come to that his dress sense is somewhat idiosyncratic too, but inside there is a surprisingly conventional man. He is honest, strong, determined, hard working and full of fun. It would be so easy for him to dwell on his problems and the things he can't do, but he never gives up, he just gets on with life. I am not sure that Robbie would think that he had much in common with an ancient Greek philosopher, but I am not so sure. Epicurus said “Not what we have but what we enjoy, constitutes our abundance” and I think Robbie would agree with that.


According to tradition a woman can propose to a man on 29th February. Thankfully my mum always taught me that a woman can do anything that a man can do, so I didn't wait for leap year!!


How many cares one loses when one decides not to be something but to be someone. Coco Chanel