Accidental House Life

I decided to write a list. I'm male, I love lists. In fact I could write a list of all the reasons I love lists but that only leads to smaller sub lists and eventually madness. This is a list of the things that make me happy. Those aspects of life that create a smile, a warm fuzzy feeling, a genuine laugh or just make everything seem worthwhile. I need this list to create a barometer against which I can judge other aspects of my life. This is a continuation of my well being theme as a thought occurred to me late last night. Currently the wonderful wife is ill with a very nasty virus. As previously said this isn't a new phenomenon (not the wonderful wife being ill, she's a trooper) as my experiences in the playground tell me illness seems to be around a lot recently. So as I had a little extra head space time I started to create a list, no general purpose for it but I'm male, it's a list, enough said. While doodling away a little hypothesis began to grow, how much

Is it just me or are we getting weaker as a species? On returning to the school playground I have yet to encounter a single family that wasn't affected by illness in some shape or form over the Christmas holidays. For some it was just sniffles, for others it was make you stay in bed viruses and for the unfortunate few, hospitalisation. Now don't get nickers in a twist that I'm making a huge generalisation or down playing peoples individual sickness, but this winter seemed to floor the entire village I live in. My fellow "Stayers" will read this with a nod and a knowing smile. We, dear reader, are the hardy few. We may have the sniffles, we may even have a virus, but we've had those for about a year now, it's our new norm. I say this slightly tongue in cheek. You see, when you "Jobbers" aren't around and we have uncensored conversations, by golly do we moan. And by we and sincerely mean we. I have a stock phrase in answer to the question &q

There are many aspects of being a parent that you expect. Emotionally you know that not every day is going to be perfect, tantrums will be thrown, arguments will be had and you can guarantee tears will flow. Physically you know teeth will be lost, legs will be bruised, somewhere will be cut and eventually bones will be broken. We are nearing the stage at the Castle where the onset of puberty, although possibly years away, is also a  blink of an eye away and so is "The Talk" but that's for another post (a very long post, possibly 5 pages, with pictures and audio, I'm not doing it alone! You have been warned). But todays post is about the one closest to most of our hearts, the aspect of parenting we were warned about, the one we thought we had prepared for, the one that was the main topic of the decision (you know, who stays at home, does anyone stay at home, they do! Oh, it's me is it, right we are then).  Yesterday was subs day for the boy child and his Bea

The backs gone again. The joy of back pain and being a house husband is, well, nothing. Only when you hurt something do you realise how much you use it and only then do you realise how much you need it. Now I was going to go on a lovely long poetic metaphor upon how my situation mirrors aspects of our daily lives but dammit my back really does hurt! As you may remember dear reader I usually type my witterings whilst stood in my "office" but no more. I have had to join the world of those who sit. "What's his problem?" you may ask, well I'll tell you. If you are of average dimensions you may not be aware of the daily struggles anyone above 6 foot has. I myself stand at just shy of 6ft 4inches, coupled with a previously discussed weight of a small mountain gorilla, life can throw up some interesting challenges. For example, for the last 5 weeks the Castle has been awash with Christmas cheer, resulting in a constant crouch position being my main form of moveme

The wonderful wife asked a very interesting question the other evening. Whilst watching a particularly dull Christmas special on TV the usual post Boxing day adverts arrived prompting this; "what does a holiday mean to me?" An easy question to answer you may say, but on closer inspection, I disagree. Now for those of you of the working persuasion a holiday can quite simply be a break from work. Whether this be a long weekend, a week or even a fortnight, any break from the daily commute can be a welcome one. Even though it seems a lifetime ago I well remember that warm, glorious feeling of that final drive home prior to that wonderful break spending time away from my desk, not thinking about work and drinking in the afternoon purely because I could. Driving home for Christmas wasn't just an exceptionally good song but my official start of the holiday. Knowing that once parked that car of mine was only moving when I wanted to go somewhere, that, prior to children, the al