A Journal of No Importance

Over halfway through the mountain of ironing that I let accumulate over the last week. Listening to the radio and being generally lost in my own thoughts. Then the news comes on. The main story concerns the ongoing conflict in Gaza. The war in Ukraine pushed aside, almost forgotten by the media.

The Gaza story is followed by approx. 30 secs given over to the Home Secretary’s ‘attack’ on the homeless and rough sleepers. I have tried to find more context but have come up drawing a blank. Maybe I imagined it? Then again, it’s par for the course where she’s concerned. From memory she said that the use of tents by people, including many from abroad (why is that even relevant?), to sleep on the streets, particularly in shop doorways, needs addressing and that charities who give out tents and sleeping equipment to the homeless could face sanctions. Some people are trying to help. Some are trying to whip up antipathy and mistrust and using racist dog whistle rhetoric to achieve it.

It's almost as if rough sleepers can be tolerated if they don’t put up a tent or come from abroad. The opposite of this is that it’s acceptable to be a rough sleeper if you're British.

It's been four months since the axe fell on my previous job. As I said before I've been 'casually' looking and one of those casual, flippant applications has resulted in an interview.

Nothing grand: delivery driver for a supermarket chain. Fairly low-brow but nevertheless many people rely on deliveries of food, etc.

We recently returned home after spending a fortnight in Tenerife. When the covid restrictions were relaxed enough for us to decide it worth travelling abroad we booked the holiday. This was towards the end of last summer and gave us something to look forward to after a couple of years of doom and gloom punctuated by some bright highlights.

Whilst we were in Tenerife the north part of the island was dealing with raging wildfires. Thankfully for us the only impact was a faint smoky smell in the air one morning and a very thin scattering of ash everywhere. From what I heard and saw the fires had a severe impact on the lives and economies of those living in the north.

This whole thing is going to read out of sequence.

Back in mid-May this year (2023) I was told I was ‘at risk of redundancy’. I love that they have to be so formal and tell me I’m at risk. The actual fact was that the entire department was being made redundant (with the exception of my supervisor).

Officially we were told that home-working wasn’t viable and the structure of the department couldn’t accommodate us home workers. Previously we had merged with the Image Department in Denmark and were ‘Managed’ by the department head over there. Other than one or two video calls there was no managing of us, other than managing us out of the business.

It transpired that we weren’t ‘redundant’. After a bit of prodding and making nuisances of ourselves, we discovered that the company thought it would be more financially viable to have the whole department based in Denmark. In fact, we were being relocated without being offered the opportunity to relocate. It was a moot point as none of us were in a position to relocate but we were never offered the opportunity. The company stuck to its guns and after three online meetings we all parted ways.

Initially I was angry, hurt, confused and not a little sad. We aim not to be defined by our work but when our work is taken away from us it’s as if someone close has died.

We saw redundancy coming, just not as soon as it did.

Since then, I’ve been casually looking for work; the search for a new job has been stepped up in recent weeks due to increased costs associated with day-to-day living. My pension should’ve been paid by now (I must chase them up today).

Hello Tumblr. Hello World. Hello. Again. Like the proverbial bad penny, I’m back. Not 100% certain I’ve got much to say, much of any interest anyway.

Yesterday I heard an interview between Lauren Laverne and Lem Sissay, poet, on Radio6music. Lem starts each and every day with a blank piece of paper and writes whatever he feels like writing. This he then crafts into a short poem.

I like this idea but not sure I have the commitment to do something similar. When I mentioned this to my wife, she said that I haven’t put anything on the blog for years and that is as good a place as any to just let your thoughts spill out. To paraphrase Lem, it doesn’t have to be the best thing you’ve ever written, just write.

With that thought in the back of my mind I immediately thought of the time I along my brother, mum and dad (my sister was yet to be born I think) was on holiday in France. Saint Brieuc in Brittany, I think. We were walking back from the beach when I pointed to a large billboard advertising something or other. I said “Look at that lobster!” There was a big red lobster on the poster. “Yeah, you nearly stood in it!” said my mum. She hadn’t heard me properly and I hadn’t heard her tell us to be careful of the large dog turd on the pavement. Oh how we laughed.

I’m not reviewing what I’ve written before I post it so it’s as it stands. Make of that what you will…

In the days and weeks afterwards, leading up to his funeral, I spent a great deal of time reflecting on the (almost) 50 years we shared. Whilst we lived up to the stereotype of brothers in many ways, not least our bickering, we also shared a deep respect for each other, and nothing was ever too much to ask of each other.

I was asked the other day how and what would I like to do to ‘mark’ the occasion. I had already given a great deal of thought to it so was quick to answer. On the one hand, carry on as normal. Every day since there’s been a card on my desk which was given out at his funeral service, so he’s never not remembered. On the other hand, I’d like to spend some time on my own, just aimlessly wandering, maybe going for a pint (he loved his beer) and generally being selfish to the point of excluding everyone else.

I know many other people will want to say something, do something and I really hope they do what they feel is appropriate. As for me, I’m still torn between doing nothing and spending time on my own. Both are for my benefit.

I did wonder, why one year, 5 years and so on? I know they are convenient milestones but to me it suggests that the rest of the time the event in question is somehow less important. I dunno.

At the time, I couldn’t speak at his funeral, I still can’t speak of him out loud without my voice cracking and my eyes moistening. I never want that to change.

He left primary school in 2021. Out of his class, only four ended up at the same secondary school, fortunately one of them was his best friend Ronnie, so the settled in to 'big school' together.

Whilst there was no pre-term visit, there was an open day in the summer of 2021 at Parkside for the children to get to meet their teachers and future classmates.

Overall he's settled in really well. His circle of friends has grown, and as a result of signing up for the after-school rugby club, he now plays for Keighley RUFC U12s!

He's still keeping up with is karate and what with scouts (he's off to France this summer with scouts) it makes for a full on week of after-school clubs and activities. Sundays are taken up with either rugby training or a match and Saturday mornings are set aside for tutoring!

Towards the end of 2018 we decided to move house.

Here was nothing wrong with the old house, it had been our home for the previous 20 years but since the arrival of Mathew we had outgrown it. Put simply: there wasn’t enough room. Inside or out.

The house was originally built in the late 19th century and restored in the 1980’s The ceilings were low and beamed, the windows small and mullioned. Downstairs comprised a living room and kitchen; upstairs two bedrooms and a bathroom. Outside there was a small patio and a driveway shared with seven other cottages. Broadband was virtually non-existent. However, the views across the valley were stunning and when the mist clung to the valley bottom and the moors opposite were bathed in golden morning sunlight none of that mattered.

Initially we hadn’t really formed an idea of where we wanted to move to and what sort of house. We had a short ‘must have’ list which made things quite simple when it came to ruling properties in or out. There was no way we were going to uproot Mathew from primary school, so it had to be somewhere that made drop off and pick up a practical consideration. It also had to be somewhere that fit the same criteria when it came to secondary school. Even though we didn’t know where he’d end up, we narrowed it down to an area and started looking in earnest.

We put the house on the market just before Christmas and by February we had a firm offer which we accepted. We’d also found the house we wanted to move into but there was a snag: it wasn’t built yet. The house we’d chosen was a new build (something we’d not really considered) but it ticked all the boxes. We reserved the house and took a rental. Initially for 6 months and after that a rolling month-by-month contract. Not that we’d need that.

We moved into a three bedroomed bungalow with a large garden and double garage. Whilst a lot of our ‘stuff’ went into storage.

There were numerous delays and snags but we eventually moved into our house in October 2020. I think I speak for all three of us when I say it’s now almost home.

I’m going to try to put into words how some of the events of the past six years have affected me and those around me. As I see them.

Not all events will be remembered exactly as they happened and there’s no hierarchy of importance either. After all, the title is A Journal of NO importance after all.

Initially the blog was a way for me to articulate my thoughts and feelings in the days, weeks and months after being discharged from hospital in 2009 after having experienced quite a severe stroke. I was hospitalised for over two months, and it took a further 12 months before I was able to swallow again. I still have difficulty walking down steps and need a rail when walking up steps. I cannot run, yet, and I have balance and vision issues as well as a weakened left-hand side. My physical response to pain/temperature and touch is random but other than that I’ve made a good recovery.

I can’t promise that there’ll be something every day, nor that it will be interesting.

See if everything works.

It’s been quite a while, almost six years since I put anything up here.