End Of The Decade

To tell this story properly, I first have to go back a long way to tell you why I hate New Year so much.

New Year's Eve 1998

Everything was coming together after a REALLY rough run - a new house was lined up, moving in was just a couple of weeks away. My partner and I were engaged, the church was booked, we'd talked endlessly and we were finally - after an awful rough patch - on the same page.

New Year's Eve 1999

DEVASTATED. It had lasted just five-and-a-half weeks and he'd left me pregnant again. So here I was going into another New Year as a single parent, having had a shit year including emergency surgery at 15 weeks pregnant.

New Year's Eve 2000

Well, the 90s had been a complete washout but now I was 21 and SURELY the 21st century had to be kinder? I was a young single mum of two and I clung to the hope that I'd meet someone and it'd all work out for the best.

Yeah, that didn't happen.

2010

So I'm now 31, my daughters are about to turn 11 and 14. I've been alone for the entirety of the last decade. I went into the New Year depressed about that but also ill with stress about the back-to-work thing. 'Back' indeed! As I'd only worked for four-and-a-half months before becoming a full-time mum it didn't seem to count as going 'back' - I certainly wasn't going to drop into a nice admin job on the Home Office payroll again.

A week before I turned 32 I finally got a job - two, in fact. Cleaning. Absolute bloody nightmare. Morning job was in a Gov't quango office we'll call CC and that was 0545-0745; evening job was local Gov't offices we'll call SC and I was working there 1700-1900.

Now maybe that doesn't sound so bad but 4 hours intense exercise a day is not something a morbidly obese single mother was in any way prepared for and then there's the walking to and from each job - half an hour each way, six hours exercise each day and not enough time to sleep properly. By summer everything was falling apart, starting at my feet. Leaking pipes in the kitchen and bathroom did not help my stress level and despite the exhaustion I stopped sleeping.

My youngest daughter had an exceptionally bad year - she actually has been diagnosed with PTSD from it - and she started secondary school in the September.

2011

By summer my feet had all but given up from the mileage I was clocking. Ended up having to take sick leave for plantar fasciitis. My then best friend - who I'll call CD - announced she was enrolling with Open University (OU). Now I didn't think I was eligible for OU but if CD could do it I certainly could. I decided to sign up even though it was clearly impossible given my work schedule.

That's when a minor miracle happened - my boss gave me a promotion / transfer out of evening job SC and another morning job - Site Supervisor at the Museum of Somerset. This way I only had to walk to and from town once a day although it did mean working Saturdays, and working 0800-1000 I could do both jobs (15 mins being ample to get from one to t'other) and have the rest of the day free to study.

Leaving SC after a year and a half was bloody brilliant. I loved the new job at the Museum - I started there before it was reopened after a major refurbishment so I felt very protective of it. The museum was formally reopened by Mick Aston (RIP) of Time Team.

2012

I started my OU studies in the spring which gave me a real boost - no matter how awful the present I was working toward something better. Hope is a wonderful thing to have. I miss it a lot.

In the springtime I overheard a conversation which changed my life - I heard all my symptoms and I thought "Oh, your kid had IBS" and the other mum says "Oh, your kid is probably lactose intolerant, like mine" and I was BLOWN AWAY. I cut out dairy there and then and it took four months for my guys to recover from years of irritation but finally I was well for the first time in over a decade. Later I would go vegan following on from this discovery.

In the summer I took my kids to see three events of the London Olympics (dressage and water polo). A year after Mick Aston reopened the Museum it had a second reopening - this time by Prince Edward. I got invited to that event, possibly because I insisted on coming in that day to clean even though I wasn't scheduled to (or indeed, paid to) but royalty was not seeing 'my' museum anything less than pristine! I had also volunteered to do extra cleaning around extended bank holiday weekends where the museum was open but my company weren't working - this was partly going the extra mile for the museum, partly cos I was in town for my CC job anyway and partly so when my team was back on duty the work wouldn't be quite so challenging. Anything to make life easier in the long run!

Late in the year I hit a difficulty with OU - I had really wanted to do Latin but having started the course I realised my chances of passing might throw my degree in jeopardy and for just 30 credits it wasn't worth the risk. I told CD I was thinking of withdrawing from the course and she gave me a lecture on not being a quitter and how she always finished everything she started. BULLSHIT! She'd never completed anything in the decade or more I had known her and she'd dropped OU completely, don't think she even completed her first module! Not only that but CD was also taking the piss out of me as my mid-life crisis kicked in. This was bloody rich coming from someone older and less mentally stable than me. And that was the point I ended our toxic friendship. Part of me wishes she could've seen what came next but I am definitely better off without her.

2013-2016

At the end of 2012 I hacked off my hair, dyed it green and discovered a band called Fearless Vampire Killers (FVK). Then in April '13 I went to my first ever rock gig...and my second. This was the start of an epic three year adventure that led me all over the country mostly for FVK but it also inspired me to other adventures.

Meeting Laurence Beveridge, singer of FVK was a vital turning point - I lost 7 stone, dyed my hair a load more colours, got a bunch of tattoos, started painting again... Sadly in 2016 FVK broke up - I saw them 21 times.

 Weight loss 2012-2017

 Some of my paintings of Laurence

Some of my hair colours

In 2014 I acquired a black cat named Hennessy and went vegan.

In 2015 I became an ordained minister of the Universal Life Church. Yep, I'm the Rev'd Heggie ;) Mostly I looked up how people get ordained online and...oopsie!

Also during this period the opportunity to move back home came up. As my kids were growing up and there were precious few employment opportunities in Taunton I decided to make the move - but in summer 2017 when K had finished college.

Both my kids left secondary with an impressive array of GCSEs and continued on to (different) 6th form colleges. Erin passed her A levels and started at Winchester University in 2014; Kathleen had her heart set on Swansea. The move was 2 and a half years in the planning.

At the start of 2016 my job at CC ended as the offices closed. Shortly after I started another cleaning job in a school which was back to the split but no more early mornings and even the evening job was earlier - 1530-1770 - so far more manageable.

2017

I left my jobs in the summer, finished packing and moved to the new house. E got there a month beforehand; Hennessy moved in 10 days before K and I got there.

E and I had passed our degrees - I graduated OU in September with a 2:2 - BA (Hons) Humanities with Classical Studies. E graduated in October with a 2:1 - BA (Hons) Criminology and Sociology.

Unfortunately K's A-levels did not go well but many thanks to her then boyfriend for putting us onto uni foundation courses. It was all mayhem and chaos but we got her into the University of South Wales, found her somewhere to live and packed her off to the land of dragons.

Meanwhile E and I landed on our feet. Shortly after moving in E had a job offer from Lidl and while she was waiting for that to start she got a call on another job interview - which I ended up going to and got the job!

It wasn't great - contracted 4 hours a week, minimum wage and the travel expenses made it problematic but it was vital experience. When I'd been cleaning at the museum I'd applied for a proper job there several times before the manager told me I was getting automatically rejected because I didn't have any customer services or cash handling experience. Although I could no longer work there this shop job should tick those boxes if I ever got the chance to apply for a similar role.
Spoiler alert: Here endeth the good bit

2018

I had planned to do maybe 6 months experience at the shop before moving on but I'd started thinking I should give it a little longer as I had ended up becoming acting Deputy Manager of the branch! Figured that'd look pretty good on a CV.

So, I had been there almost 8 months and I was looking for something new. My contract was 4 hours a week but I was regularly working over 40 although not getting the sick pay or holiday to match. But the change that happened was out of the frying pan into the fire.

I have written other blog entries about my mum's stroke so I'll just do the short version here. April 16th my mum collapsed and was diagnosed 24 hours later (despite it being obvious from the get-go to us non-medical types) with a severe stroke affecting both hemispheres. She wasn't put on a stroke ward for the first week and she received no treatment.

I told everyone what was going on and explained I might have to just drop everything and go permanently; when we had a tentative discharge date I formally gave notice...but my supervisor didn't really believe I was leaving. By the time I got a leaving date set I was expected to learn a new computer system in my last week! It wasn't happening and I had a mid-shift meltdown. I walked out of my job with a handful of shifts left to go. I felt incredibly bad about it but I couldn't deal with the extra pointless stress - I should have left earlier but in all honesty we weren't convinced my mum would leave hospital at all.

My mum was released from hospital on June 21st and I have been looking after her ever since. It's not like I had an especially good or close relationship with her before. Also it means I have to endure my dad and stepdad's company far more than I would ever want to.

K passed her foundation course and transferred to Swansea to do the course she'd always intended to - aiming for a BSc (Hons) in Psychology and Criminology.

2019

E left her job early in the year after 18 months. She's now working in an admin job with much steadier hours. Hopefully, it'll work out for her. 

So here we are, at the end of the decade and I am in much the same place as I started - no job, no friends, no partner, no life. Stuck at home getting no exercise so I'm getting real fat again; no money, no personal freedom, and an endless cycle of laundry / dishes / cooking and cleaning. I HATE IT.

Everything I worked for has come to naught.

Sure, no one SAID life was supposed to be fair but REALLY??? I raise two kids 100% alone and just when they grow up and go off doing their own thing THIS happens. FIVE-AND-A-HALF years working my butt off for a degree and this is how I end up?! Ye gods, what did I do to deserve this karma???

There is only one way this ends and it's not gonna be pretty. Being effectively (experience-wise) a uni leaver in my forties is not a place you want to be, and of course depending on how long she hangs on it could be my fifties or later. My grandad lived 16* years after his stroke. I've told my kids to make sure I DON'T look after my dad or stepdad. Hit me with wet fish, have me sectioned - just don't let me go there. I can't do this again. I'm not exactly coping now - it requires copious amounts of Quince Gin just to get from day to day.

Remembering

• Kathleen Marie Keating Hogben (1919-2010), my great aunt who my youngest is named for
• David Penfold (1978-2012), who I was at primary school with 
• Sean Keating (1965-2014), my cousin 
• Callan McClintock (1998-2014), who my daughter Kathleen was at school with 
• Allister Keating (1963-2016), my cousin
• Rosalind Brenda 'Ben' Beckett Ling (1920-2018), my great aunt
• Michael Barter (1936-2019), ex husband of my godmother who lived on our road
• Serena Cheong Oi Yun (1984-2019), friend of many years 
• Gwendoline Joyce Beckett Oxenham Smith (1924-2019), my great aunt 
• Dave Rowlands (1938-2019), my uncle by marriage 

Top 100 Girls & Boys names 2019

I'm well past the relevance of looking at baby-name lists but I still find it interesting to see where the trends lie...just sharing some opinions along the way
Going from this article: https://metro.co.uk/2019/12/04/olivia-muhammad-top-list-popular-baby-names-2019-11266090/

1. Olivia - ugh, how long has that been at number one now?! I honestly don't know why parents-to-be don't just look at lists for the past 5 years and like rule out anything in the top 20! When I was at school my class had multiples of many names - back then it was Sarah, Louise and Emma especially with honourable mentions to Helen, Joanna, Rebecca and Jennifer.
2. Sophia 
3. Ava 
4. Amelia 
5. Isla 
6. Lily 
7. Mia - this really ought to be short for something.
8. Emily 
9. Isabella 
10. Freya - approved.
11. Aria 
12. Ella - kinda glad any Stranger Things influence hasn't led to too many girls being named Eleven...I heard of an Elleven t'other day
13. Evie - yes, my name is 'Heggie' but it isn't a diminutive. If I were changing my name again it'd be 'Heggitha' instead. Eve is a fair name but Evie?! It sounds so childish to me (ditto Rosie #17, Ellie #44, Gracie #83 etc). Think about your daughter being a strapping 6ft tall mum in jeans and see if the name still fits.
14. Grace 
15. Isabelle - if Isabella #9, Isabelle and Bella #50 were combined where would they be on the chart?!
16. Ivy 
17. Rosie 
18. Sophie 
19. Willow 
20. Charlotte 
21. Poppy 
22. Elsie - whilst being a diminutive of Elizabeth 'Elsie' has a vintage feel to me which I like...
23. Emilia 
24. Sienna 
25. Phoebe 
26. Ruby 
27. Hannah 
28. Evelyn 
29. Zara 
30. Florence 
31. Maya - is your kid Mayan tho???
32. Luna - I love the name but I do worry about the bullying potential
33. Eva 
34. Darcie 
35. Emma 
36. Mila - how are we pronouncing this? Myla (see #93)? Miller?
37. Chloe - this was #1 for donkey's years...
38. Daisy 
39. Alice 
40. Layla 
41. Matilda - approved
42. Harper - I REALLY hate this one. Sorry.
43. Molly 
44. Ellie - No, name your kid Eleanor (#64) and call them Ellie. Give them OPTIONS.
45. Nur 
46. Eliza 
47. Zoe 
48. Sarah 
49. Thea - Theodora maybe, very much like The Haunting (1963)
50. Bella 
51. Ada 
52. Maisie 
53. Jessica 
54. Millie 
55. Lucy 
56. Violet 
57. Fatima 
58. Scarlett 
59. Maryam - approved
60. Penelope 
61. Holly 
62. Erin - Erin wasn't on any popularity lists when my Erin Ciara was born, slightly sad it's become popular but grateful it still isn't super common.
63. Anna 
64. Eleanor - I love the name for all it's one I couldn't use myself. I'd like to see a rise in other Old English names...Aethelflaed and Aelfwynn for example.
65. Robyn 
66. Imogen 
67. Lottie 
68. Hallie 
69. Harriet - One from my lists :) Also one I contemplated for my own name change.
70. Aurora 
71. Esme 
72. Lola 
73. Amber 
74. Iris 
75. Maria 
76. Jasmine 
77. Bonnie 
78. Abigail - I like this one; if you haven't read 'Playing Beatie Bow' by Ruth Park - DO IT!
79. Amelie 
80. Clara - I liked this name until she was a Doctor Who sidekick... (Rose #84, Martha #98, Amelia #4, Rory #59 on the boys)
81. Ayla 
82. Annabelle 
83. Gracie 
84. Rose 
85. Georgia - the state or the country?
86. Summer 
87. Arabella 
88. Delilah - this kid is gonna have THAT song sang at her all her damn life.
89. Elizabeth 
90. Lara 
91. Leah 
92. Kiara 
93. Myla 
94. Nancy - is this a Stranger Things inspired comeback?
95. Eden - kinda like this one
96. Orla 
97. Heidi - have always thought I'd go for Adelheid myself.
98. Martha 
99. Penny 
100. Ariana

...and now for the boys...

1. Muhammad - given that other spelling variations haven't made it into the top 100 I have my suspicions they've combined them in the same way that other variations like Amelia #4 and Emilia #23 have been counted as distinct from each other.
2. Noah 
3. Leo - at least Leo the lion is a thing beyond Leopold and Leon #98.
4. Oliver 
5. Charlie - Prince or Weasley?
6. Harry - Prince or Potter?
7. George - Prince or Weasley?
8. Arthur - Weasley? Also probably the most popular name I have ever seriously liked. Arthur was in the running for both my girls if they'd been boys.
9. Freddie - Weasley?! Quite a run of potentially HP themed names and even Oliver could count.
10. Jack - unlike Chloe which has dropped a LOT from the height of its popularity Jack is still far too high up the list to be contemplated.
11. Theo - no, Theodore #41
12. Oscar 
13. Jacob 
14. Ethan 
15. Alfie 
16. Jaxon - names suffixed -son seem quite popular: Harrison #39, Mason #46, Grayson #70, Jenson #94. Generally not a fan but changing the 'cks' of Jackson to an x is kinda cute.
17. Thomas 
18. Joshua 
19. Henry 
20. Lucas 
21. Archie - unusually I like Archie, not sure I could name a baby Archibald.
22. Max 
23. Isaac
24. James 
25. Adam 
26. Louis 
27. Elijah 
28. Teddy - again, go with Theodore #41 and call 'em Teddy for short. A 47 year old bank exec called Teddy? Just doesn't sound right to me.
29. Aiden 
30. Finley 
31. William 
32. Alexander 
33. Luca 
34. Daniel 
35. Logan - Ted(dy) at #28, Theodore at #41 and Logan here in the middle - COINCIDENCE?! Bill and Preston don't seem to feature.
36. Liam 
37. Jayden 
38. Tommy 
39. Harrison 
40. Reuben 
41. Theodore - approved
42. Arlo 
43. Elliott 
44. Dylan - I prefer the spelling Dillon
45. Ryan 
46. Mason 
47. Joseph 
48. Sebastian - approved
49. Samuel 
50. Caleb 
51. Kian - I kind of like Kyan, as in the stone Kyanite, but with an i I find it odd.
52. Yusuf 
53. Albie - is this Potterheads being reluctant to go full Dumbledore?! What the heck is an Albie? Albus or Albion maybe.
54. Ollie 
55. David 
56. Zachary 
57. Nathan 
58. Riley 
59. Rory 
60. Hugo 
61. Edward 
62. Hunter - I hope Hunter grows up to be vegan.
63. Ezra - approved
64. Benjamin 
65. Toby 
66. Jude 
67. Luke 
68. Carter 
69. Gabriel 
70. Grayson 
71. Kayden 
72. Alex 
73. Reggie 
74. Finn 
75. Ahmad 
76. Matthew 
77. Jesse 
78. Bobby - Sam(uel) at #49, Bobby here but no Dean??? Even Adam made the list and he's still in the cage. Sadly Lucifer seems a long way off making a comeback too.
79. Frankie 
80. Myles 
81. Roman - but is your kid Roman though? Maybe they'll be more interested in the Greeks...
82. Michael - so Lucas is #20, Will(iam) is at #31, Michael is here and Dustin is nowhere to be seen? That is just so wrong.
83. Kai 
84. Connor 
85. John 
86. Blake 
87. Matteo 
88. Ali 
89. Eli - I prefer Elias
90. Ibrahim 
91. Harvey 
92. Aaron 
93. Evan 
94. Jenson 
95. Stanley - I like that this one is here.
96. Harley 
97. Jason 
98. Leon 
99. Levi 
100. Lewis

Agender and Angry

So last night (21:30, 29 Nov 2019) I was on the receiving end of what I consider to be a gender identity hate crime - it has been reported to the police as such.

It started when I was out for a walk. I mostly only get out briefly of an evening, between my daughter getting home from work and when she needs to get to bed. Sometimes my dad will sit with my mum so I can get out for a bit during the day but that's not relaxing - that's time for banking or shopping or running errands. I hate being cooped up inside. I hate that I am regaining the weight I worked so hard to lose (in part) from lack of exercise. That little bit of time in the evenings is so important to me.

So I'm out, playing PokemonGO, when this lad on a bike cycles straight at me on the path - and this is a path about 2m wide so the turd was definitely aiming at me. I moved aside - he moved the same way, definitely trying to hit me - no idea how we didn't collide. Anyhow, I spin round as he misses me by a whisker and gave him a piece of my mind. He's cycling on the path where he has no business to be, cycling at night with no lights, acting like I'M the one in the wrong? GAH!

The row escalated and he's being really nasty and one of the things he says is "if you weren't a woman I'd f*ck*ng punch you" and that is the sort of thing that makes me see red cos it is not okay to punch a complete stranger, even if they're yelling at you (especially if they're - A - justified in their yelling at you and - B - in no way shape or form physically threatening you) regardless of how they present, their gender identity or biological sex.

I don't think you get many feminists arguing that particular point because the 'don't hit a girl' rule works in their favour but it really annoys me. It's a form of misogyny to treat females as weak / vulnerable / whatever. Males of the species are not fair game for mindless violence.

Then there's the just don't go there thing of presuming my gender. I am biologically female, I present (vaguely) as female I guess, I'm okay with female pronouns but I don't feel like I have any kind of connection with the average cis female so please don't call me a girl (especially as I'm bleedin' middle aged) and while I might refer to myself as a woman it's mostly a force-of-habit thing. This is why I am egalitarian (the doctrine that all people are equal and deserve equal rights) - I believe women's rights, men's rights, trans rights, non binary rights are the SAME rights.

So I'm like "please don't assume my gender, for your information I am agender". This was possibly a mistake cos the jumped up little twat goes from derogatory comments about my womanhood and presentation (yeah cos I am gonna dress more 'womanly' to appease a complete stranger who is taking offence at my WELLIES...I mean, this lad was completely NUTS) to full on transphobic shit. Cos obviously he doesn't even know what 'agender' is "What you think you're a man? You wanna be a man?" he's screaming at me - and I swear this is the best bit - then this little runt comes out with "it's the 21st century you're a f*ck*ng woman intcha?!" WOW someone totally missed the memo on gender identity and equality. My 77 year old dad doesn't get it but he's still more clued up than this dipshit.

Anyway, the encounter concluded with him punching me several times in the head and giving me a good solid kick in the ribs. I was bloody tempted to hit back but smacking other people's children is frowned upon. Actually surprised the scrawny little asswipe had it in him - definitely had him pegged as the all-mouth-no-trousers type, not least of his (largely incomprehensible) ranting seemed to have something to do with his mummy. I'll add here that he identified himself as being FIFTEEN - 15 and he's on about his mummy and assaulting middle aged pedestrians for being angry he tried to hit them with his bike...what even?!

So I called the police and made a statement. I don't expect anything to come of it but maybe someone caught something on their dashcam...or maybe it'll get linked to the next person he lays into...or maybe he's enough of an asshole to actually upload the video he was taking of me while he was being a d*ck to me.

If feels weird to have been on the receiving end of a hate crime. Fortunately, although I haven't known the term 'agender' all that long in the great scheme of things, I am confident enough in my own identity to own that identity and not back down from it in the face of jumped up little chavboys who obviously aren't mature enough to be out on their own. What this would do to someone who is struggling with their identity, suffering from dysphoria or insecure about themselves doesn't bear thinking about.

INJURIES

• Swollen left ear & bruise* on bone behind
• Very tender lump on left temple under hairline
• Bruised* underside left cheekbone, down face to under lower jaw
• Bruised* lower left-hand ribs

(* all bruises are felt, but still not visible at 24 hrs)

Not that it matters but as the gender identity abuse because he was belittling my presentation as (he assumed) a woman I'll include here a run-down of how I appeared:

HOW I WAS PRESENTING AT THE TIME

• Hair close cropped (went over it at a grade 6 about a week ago), usual piercings (nose, helix, multiple lobes and 10mm tunnels) & jewellery (copper bangles, mala beads, snake ring), no make up as is standard - I generally resemble a potato
• Baggy dark green tunic under unisex FVK hoodie
• Black leggings
• Black wellies with white spots

Not feminine, not masculine, just Heggie. Probably the most 'feminine' thing about me is the fact I have boobs. It honestly appalls me the shit transgender people have to face and having had the tiniest taste of it I am LIVID at how badly educated even young people apparently are cos if this turd is the future we're all fucked.

Quince Chutney

A tasty relish suited to Indian & middle eastern dishes.
Makes approx 2 jars. Vegan.

Ingredients

• 1kg Quince - approx 3 large fruits
• 2-3 large echalion shallots (4-6 small ones)
• 6 cloves roast garlic (1 block frozen / 1 tablespoonful from a jar)
• Grated ginger (2-3 blocks frozen / 3 large tablespoons from a jar or prepare your own)
• 400ml apple cider vinegar
• 150ml white wine (I used ginger wine as that's what I had to hand)
• 400g dark brown sugar
• 2 tsp salt
• 1/2 tsp ancho chillis or similar
• Several of each - cardamom pods, kaffir lime leaves, curry leaves (if available - otherwise substitute ground spices of your choice) 

Method
1. Prepare the quinces - Quince 101: they are HARD. You will need a sharp knife and determination! Peel, remove core / seeds and chop flesh into small cubes (chop finer if you want a sandwich chutney) as they soften but stay intact.
2. Finely chop shallots and garlic.
3. Place in a large pan with all other ingredients and bring to the boil.
4. Simmer for 40 minutes.
5. If using cardamom pods, lime and curry leaves extract them.
6. Bring back up to the boil and reduce, stirring frequently until it thickens like jam.
7. Scald out jam jars and lids to sterilise; fill with chutney and put lids on to seal. Allow to cool.

So Slow

Not to blow my own trumpet but I have a few smarts. My IQ has been certified at a respectable 137 and I'm a graduate. But I'll be the first to admit I've never been quick on the uptake.

Tonight my mum was watching 'The Adventure of the Egyptian Tomb' on TV. I own it on DVD and heaven knows how many times I've seen it since it was made back in 1993...but it was only last year that I finally got what Hastings was on about when he was telling Poirot about Miss Lemon's late cat "the one she called Catherine-the-great because it liked to sleep in the fireplace". Yes, I am very ashamed of myself and embarrassed to admit it. In my defence I'm not exactly super familiar with fireplace grates.

Anyway, this blog is another thing that happened tonight.

I'd gone out for a bit of air, walking down to the closest Pokestop and Pokegym and I was listening to Ashestoangels (hereafter A2A) on my phone.

My cousin Allister died of Primary Brain Lymphoma in April 2016 and there are THREE A2A songs that get me in the feels about that - Ugly Club which made me do the ugly cry at a gig just days after I heard the diagnosis, then two tracks that I got stuck in a loop of playing in the week or so before he died: Bound And Broken, and Ghost In The Machine.

So Ghost In The Machine comes on which particularly makes me think of Allister's partner Michaela. I had huge empathy for her anyway but after the funeral I was lurking to offer the usual stock phrases of sympathy as is only right and proper when my daughter and I overheard her tell another mourner that her father had died of the exact same thing at just one year difference in age.

This reminded me that earlier today I saw Michaela post on Facebook - November 7th was Allister's birthday (at the time of typing it's past midnight).

I also get to thinking about how my mum phoned me to tell me the news.

When I first moved to Taunton in 1997 I got my first ever phone. I started at the neon UFO shaped thing plugged into the wall and realised that some day soon I would take the first of some damn difficult phone calls. As it happened the first was in October 2000, in a different house on a different number and on a different handset. That was when my grandad died. I didn't get a call about my grandma because I had phoned home at an inopportune moment. There must've been calls about more distant relatives, my auntie Kitty for whom my youngest is named, but they were older and expected. it makes a bit of a difference.

The first really difficult phone call wasn't until Oct 2014. My mum didn't sound herself on the phone, I barely recognised her voice. I was just thinking "this reminds me of when my grandad died" when she started crying and I realised...
Me: "OMG, who?"
Mum: "It's Sean"
Me: *LITERALLY DUMBFOUNDED*
Mum: "Your cousin?"
Yeah mum, I know who you meant but...he was 49. He died doing what he loved which was riding his motorbike. My only memory of his wedding back in 1987 was him and his bride sitting on his bike for photos outside the church.

In comparison we knew Allister was going, it was just a matter of waiting for the news. Around the beginning of April we (meaning my mum, my dad and I) stopped phoning each other. We didn't discuss it. We just didn't. Incidentally I tweeted a prediction on April 1st of the 21st. I've blogged about this before and I know it's super vague - the follow on about the odds changing re: the 25th is A2A related - being my next date to see them live. April 21st 2015 was when I saw A2A right after hearing Allister's diagnosis; April 25th 2016 was my next gig date to see them.

As the 21st got closer I started checking Facebook obsessively for any hint from Michaela. By the 21st I was an absolute wreck. At around 7pm I'd been sitting at my PC and had just got up to go to the loo. The phone rang, I misstepped, trod on a plastic tray and broke it. I swore comprehensively at the phone. I was fighting back tears when I picked up the receiver.

So tonight I was thinking about taking that call, the call about Sean, Kitty, my grandad...and I realised that not only am I never getting another call from my mum (as she is a stroke survivor living with me) but that I am now pretty the adult for my branch of the family who other people will call with the bad news (my dad doesn't have a whole lot of family and it's not exactly clear if anyone'd bother contacting him anyways).

For some reason this hit me pretty hard.

Worse still was the realisation that THIS SITUATION HAS ALREADY HAPPENED.

My mother's brother in law, my Uncle Dave, died on October 11th following a long illness from myelodysplastic syndrome (a rare blood cancer). Although, as it's now 2019 I actually received the message via Facebook rather than an actual call. I had to tell my mum, rather than the other way about.

Unusually for me I just went through it without clocking the reversal in roles. 

Tonight it hit me. Not only that it is me that is moving up the pecking-order of adulting around here but the shock that I'd just dealt with it when it came up without really clocking it. 

When Sean and Allister died I wanted death to hit my parents' generation next as might be considered the natural order of things. I'm the youngest of my generation but it's too close for comfort. Dave, on the other hand, was 80. And now we're in that phase, of losing that generation, I feel old. 

I am perfectly aware of my age, my 'kids' are in their 20s so I probably have a better awareness of where I stand than a lot of people in my age bracket. Indeed, another cousin has a kid who is just 5.5 years younger than me...and her kids are a preschooler and a newborn! By the time I'm a grandma, or certainly by the time my future grandkids are old enough to remember, it's unlikely there'll be any of the old-guard left standing. Time marches on and all that but it's the realisation that goes with it.

I didn't have any greatgrandparents alive when I was a kid - I doubt anyone of their generation was still around. My mum's parents had her late, she had me fairly late...I guess somewhere along the line I just assumed that by being a teen mum it'd go some way to redressing the balance. Tonight it struck me that it's really unlikely. My kids probably won't have kids for another decade...and in all honesty I think my generation, already depleted, will be the oldest by then.

Deaths of 2019

Gwendoline J, nee Beckett (94/95)

Last surviving aunt of my father - no biographical details.

Left the UK decades ago.

Serena Cheong (34)

Missed by her parents Solomon & Cecelia, sister Sharon, brother Michael, sister in law Kelly

and the Blockhead Sisterhood worldwide.

Michael Barter (82/83)*

No close kin.

* not only do I not know his date of birth but no one knows when he died. Whatever's on his certificate is a guestimate.

Dave Rowlands (80)

Missed by his widow Margaret; daughters Terrie, Dawn Paula and Shirley;

grandchildren David, Hannah. Luke, Matthew, Geraldine, Sabrina,

Hopey, Isaac, Jacob, Shirley, Elijah;

great-grandchildren Evelyn, Henry, Rafe, Max, Lazarus, Ezra, Delilah and Selena

Fire Escapes are for Escaping

Jacob Rees-Mogg and Andrew Brigden have apologised for their comments regarding the Grenfell Disaster in which 72 people perished in a tower-block fire.

Source: https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-london-50314112

Now, I personally don't feel either politician was victim blaming - these people died not because they made any kind of mistake but because the building had undergone shoddy refurbishment and consequently the instructions they received from the fire dept. to stay put and await rescue were...catastrophic.

The problem is that to stay put and await rescue in a burning building flies against not only common sense but also every human's instinct to preserve their own life.

The only reason for not evacuating that I can think of are:

• I am (or a person I am with is) physically incapable of leaving without help
• I can find no clear route of escape

Besides this, everyone is taught from an early age that in the event of a fire alarm (much less an actual, tangible fire) to:

1. Stay calm
2. Do not retrieve possessions
3. Leave, via the nearest available exit (often with the subclause of do not use a lift)

This is at school, at work, in hotels, on public transport, in shops and public buildings...literally everywhere.

So Rees-Mogg and Brigden asked the fairly obvious question - why, when instructed to do something that goes against logic, against self-preservation, against a lifetime of a very specific learned response to this particular kind of threat did the people in that tower block not go against that instruction?

There are several significant possibilities that spring to my mind:

First and probably most importantly is TRUST IN AUTHORITY. They trusted people to know what the right thing to do was, especially the fire dept. whose literal job is to keep them safe. I have issues with this cos I simply don't trust people. Like, ever. it's just not in my make up to do anything beyond listen to my own gut. And my gut can be wrong.

Secondly is FEAR. When people are afraid there are two key responses - firstly, Fight Or Flight where the choice is to fight the danger or run from it. This is were you either grab that fire extinguisher or make for the fire escape. Second is Deer In The Headlights, and that's what I'm thinking here. People who are frightened often freeze, people who freeze often look to others to tell them what to do, or are susceptible to being led...this is, in part, why runaways are so vulnerable - a frightened kid can go into things they'd never have dreamed of doing if led astray by someone malicious.

Third up is the controversial one: I blame the education system. Basically, SOCIETAL BRAINWASHING. From an early age, usually pre-school age, kids are taught to defer to adults - specifically authority figures: cops, doctors, teachers etc. Beyond this all through school are taught over and over not to act without instruction. To do ONLY as they are told.

To elaborate on this last point I want to cite experiences from my last two jobs.

My last job was in a shop. I worked with several school leavers who shared a common characteristic - they couldn't self-motivate, like AT ALL. They'd literally stand there waiting for someone to tell them what to do, even if there was a really obvious task at hand. Meanwhile, myself and other older workers instinctively looked for things to do - we disliked being told what to do like we were kids, also tasks done at our convenience made for smooth running of the shop - basically, it was to make our own lives easier to declutter, reorganise or whatever.

In my last job before that I worked in a school. One particular classroom disgusted me because the walls were covered in pictograms of 'acceptable behaviour' - no speaking unless spoken to, no moving unless instructed to, using a 'whisper voice' only, do not do anything until you have listened to all the instructions etc. At this time my own kids were in uni & 6th form college and I talked to both of them about these signs and both confirmed that this had been drummed into them at school. To literally not think for themselves but to defer always to someone else's instruction. I was appalled! If I had known this I'd have homsechooled throughout instead of the times I was otherwise obliged to.

Fortunately, what I taught my kids at home was very successful. Both my kids are capable of thinking for themselves, getting on with things, dealing with a crisis. At sixteen my youngest accidentally set fire to the bathroom - it is one of my proudest moments as a parent because she dealt with it - she calmly threw a fire blanket over it, even cleaned up. Did she call anyone for help or advice? Nope, she had it in hand. Conversely a story I saw on the news has stuck with me for many years: a family saw smoke issuing from their tumble dryer so they fled their flat and called for help (nice flight response) - only they didn't unplug the machine, they didn't grab a fire extinguisher...their home & possessions were destroyed as a result. Probably avoidable without any of them being in any actual danger. Very unfortunate.

This whole business makes me think of a couple of examples from history.

One is the Titanic. People look back and are VERY judgemental of the White Star Line for not providing enough lifeboats (there was a greater provision than required by law) and against the officers who allowed lifeboats to leave the ship far below capacity (partly because proper evacuation procedures were not in place, partly because 'women and children first' was misinterpreted) - much like Grenfell, a series of unfortunate misjudgements and mistakes. But there too the victims were criticised - in this instance, for 'not believing' the ship would sink...but this assertion was based on false information.

"White Star Line President P.A.S. Franklin announced 'We place absolute confidence in the Titanic. We believe the boat is unsinkable'" AFTER the ship was reported to be in distress. The ship was DESIGNED TO BE unsinkable, it was never claimed that it WAS so; and the myth surrounding the term 'unsinkable' largely came about after the disaster. 

Source: https://www.historyonthenet.com/the-titanic-why-did-people-believe-titanic-was-unsinkable

Certainly the passengers may have had faith in the ship, may have believed rescue would come in time, may have been in denial of their peril (because people often are) and may have been not unreasonably afraid to get into vulnerable little boats in the middle of an icy ocean. But unlike Grenfell no one died because they were told to stay, and no one died because of shoddy materials.

Another, more recent, parallel is from 9/11. Workers in the South Tower were told to stay at their desks, after all, it was the North Tower that had been hit. Director of Security at Morgan Stanley, Rick Rescorla, had other ideas. He'd been drilling the staff FOR YEARS, every three months he got EVERYONE to practice emergency evacuations - annoying executive types who resented the interruptions. People took the piss at his 'over preparedness', they thought him paranoid. However, on 9/11 Morgan Stanley Dean Whitter lost just SIX employees out of two-and-a-half-THOUSAND. One was Rescorla. He could have escaped, having done his duty to his company, but he couldn't walk away when there were still lives to save.

Not only that but employees of other companies followed the example. They'd seen Rescorla leading his evacuation practices and decided to join in. They ignored official advice and followed the guy who seemed to know what he was doing...not least cos it fitted in with natural desires to preserve your own life

Sources:  https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rick_Rescorla

https://hbswk.hbs.edu/archive/leadership-on-9-11-morgan-stanley-s-challenge

Another story from 9/11 involves a group of ten co-workers who worked together carrying a wheelchair-user down a stairwell of the North Tower. They encountered a firefighter on the 10th floor who told them to leave the disabled man, John Abruzzo, with them and the fire service would take it from there. They'd already carried him 59 floors, they were tired...they did not leave Abruzzo but finished the job. The building collapsed just 15 minutes after they got out. They made a choice not to defer to the 'authority figures' and it worked out for them - clearly it might not have done, but they made the choice they could live with. If their escape had been delayed by their choice and they had died they'd still be heroes for trying.
Sources:https://nypost.com/2017/09/10/the-port-authority-yanks-an-honor-from-911-heroes/ 
https://www.911memorial.org/blog/colleagues-use-special-chair-save-quadriplegic-911 

Lastly, I want to use a thought experiment.

You're down in the London Underground and there's a fire alarm. The tunnel splits in two, both marked 'way out'.

One way (Route A) is wider, well lit but the smell of smoke seems stronger, the other looks like the path less travelled (Route B) but the air is clear. Which way do you go?

Same scenario but there are a dozen or so other people with you now and they're taking Route A, do you follow?

Same scenario but there's a scruffy type in ripped jeans and covered in tattoos saying Route B looks safer, do you believe them?

Same scenario but the person saying Route B looks safer is now a wearing a smart suit. Do you believe them more than the tattooed scruffy person?

Same scenario but the person directing you is now a member of staff and they're showing you to Route A but the smoke is now thick. Do you challenge them on why B is not an option?

You challenge them and they say Route A is the shorter route to the surface - the Route B tunnel leads to a neighbouring station where you can get to the surface but it'll be full of people from the trains that aren't stopping here. What do you do now?

Same scenario as before but now smoke is even thicker and the member of staff is saying 'stay put' - anyone who suggests Route B is rebuffed by being told they'll cause congestion in the other station.

My opinion is that Route B is always the best - regardless of whether you're alone to make a choice, others are choosing what is apparently a poor option, whether those recommending a safe route are smart or scruffy and whether an official is telling you an unsafe route is best - even if they provide reasoning.

It's my fear that we have a culture of discouraging people from thinking for themselves. No blame whatsoever to the Grenfell residents, just questions over why people believe counter-intuitive statements.

FOOTNOTE
On my Facebook's On This Day for 11th Nov 2011 is the following post:

G-Zeus! Woman rings NHS Direct re: daughter's migraine

that had lasted days. Advised to give her TWELVE Anadin

and ANOTHER TWELVE after 12 hours.

Daughter is now in hospital for the overdose.

For Gawd's sake peeps - double check the medical advice

you are given. Don't trust people.

I have no idea where the story came from as, pre uni, I wasn't so careful about citing sources. Quite possibly a totally fake story although I've been prescribed meds I'm contraindicated for and been instructed to use meds improperly by paramedics & nurses so I'm inclined to believe. What I struggle with is that anyone would follow such instructions. Sure X is a 'medical professional' but if they instruct you to take waaaaay more pills than the packaging says why would you believe X and not the manufacturer? One or two extra I can believe but 12???
I definitely feel our society trusts certain people implicitly. When I was at uni we did critical thinking of which PART was assessing the reliability of sources. I can understand why someone'd believe (in general terms) a doctor over the hedgewitch down the end of the village but if the doctor tells you to do something stupid you're supposed to look at that critically TOO. 
Question everything, do the reading (and still take it with a pinch of salt), think for yourself. PLEASE.

On Perspective

Today I got a bit of grief for not understanding a joke.
It goes like this:

So the main thing is that I have never heard this myth that people having olfactory hallucinations during strokes smell burned toast.
It really helps if you've heard the story the joke is dependent on. But I still don't find it 'funny' unless you factor in that burned toast in the ocean is just soggy bread. And that's not exactly hilarious either.

Perspective is a huge thing too and strokes aren't especially funny. Illnesses, diseases, medical conditions in general...problematic. It's one thing to watch a disabled person make jokes about their own condition - people are allowed to poke fun at themselves, it's when people poke fun at others it starts to get difficult.

So, having seen this do the I retweeted it with the following: 

I've seen this one do the rounds several times and it's no good

I have to ask... WHY IS IT (allegedly) FUNNY?

Probably just me being *sensitive*

but I don't find anything about strokes funny.

The @thelifeofsharks twitter account retweeted me with the (partial) comment: 

We’re sorry you don’t understand the joke.

We’re not for everyone.

Wow, 'I'm sorry you don't get the joke' is such a non-explanation for why you're 'joking' about a very serious issue. 
Another tweeter replied: 

i found it funny, and ive had strokes before. it's set up well,

and uses the toast thing effectively to make a joke

that even i can laugh at

Look, I'm happy for you. I don't know what kind of strokes you had or why but I see from your bio that you're pretty young - maybe that has enabled you to make a good recovery or maybe you're just in a really good headspace to accept what happened to you because, again, perspective is a pretty important factor.

This, for example, is MY perspective.
When I was 6 years old my grandad had a stroke*. They didn't have MRIs or whatever in those days and there's no good way of defining different severities of stroke anyway. He lived another 16 years pretty much in one room like a prisoner in his own home. He had a poor quality of life; he died in 2000 aged 91 - of complications from the catheter he'd had to use because of the stroke.
His wife died less than 3 months later, also of stroke, but then she was 95.
Their youngest daughter, my mother, worked her ass of all those years to keep them in their own home - doing all their groceries & laundry, doing the middle-of-the-night call outs when he fell. My dad did all their gardening and DIY.
My mum had her stroke* on 16th April 2018 aged 73. She has been affected far worse than her father was - he could stay in his own home with assistance, meals on wheels, carers in twice a day... My mum has to have someone with her 24/7 which is me (with a little help from my daughters & dad - when they're available).
See, this doesn't just wreck the life of the person it happens to. I had to give up my own life, my hopes & dreams to care her. And if that sounds callous I don't much care - I did not have a happy childhood and I never had a great relationship with either of my parents. I hadn't long graduated, my youngest kid was recently off to uni - I was finally gonna get my life back. Unfortunately, for both of us, I'm an only child and my mum's partner wasn't up to the job. So now I'm stuck at home being a domestic drudge on zero income living my worst nightmare. The things I have seen and done in the past year and a half...
*We're fairly sure both had subsequent strokes (I think they were confirmed at autopsy in my grandfather's case; my mother is terrified of all things medical so we've pretty much nursed her through the 'episodes')

So yeah, I'm glad that the stroke-survivor who responded that they found it funny is in a position to do so. But that's far from true for all. For many people the position is utterly devastating. You won't find my mum laughing about her funny incontinence or the fact she chokes when she eats or drinks or the million other shitty things she has to endure every damn day. I'm not laughing either, I cry myself to sleep most nights wondering what I did to deserve this karma.

Brain damage* is horrific however it happens but somehow I think it must be a little easier to accept if there's a terrible accident or something. The thing with a stroke is that there's not an outside cause, your body can just do it to itself. My mum was watching TV for heaven's sake! If she hadn't has a partner to phone and raise the alarm...well, she'd have ended up like Michael.
Michael lived down the road from us. Back in the spring his neighbour called his ex wife (my godmother) because she was concerned...he'd been dead a considerable time. I hope to God he dropped dead of a heart attack or something but he could've had a stroke and just lain there 'til he died of dehydration. Maybe there was a reason no one cared about him in life but it's a horrible way to imagine someone going.
*Only in the past couple of weeks did I become aware that there's also such a thing as a spinal stroke - so you can end up permanently and completely paralysed for no damn reason.

I'm certainly not gonna say I speak for any stroke survivor when I'm not one myself; I'm not even gonna claim to speak for any other person whose life has been affected by stroke. Maybe I am being an over sensitive snowflake but this is my reality.
For some people a stroke is little more than a TIA - a 24 hour scare. Some have more serious experiences that require a longer recovery time. Some people will never fully recover; some don't even get a partial recovery but remain seriously impaired as long as they live. Some will die. And they're all called stroke, regardless of whether you can live a fairly normal life, go back to work etc...or whether you're left catastrophically disabled. Lumping all stroke-survivors (and their loved-ones) into one category like that is just nuts when it's a ridiculously diverse set of circumstances.

• Dead within 28 days of stroke - 28%
• Dead within one year of stroke - 41%
• Dead within five years of stroke - 60%

Source: https://www.saebo.com/stroke-statistics/

• Around 2% of the UK population is a stroke survivor.
• Stroke is the UK's 4th biggest killer (1 person every 13 minutes) and the leading cause of acquired disability.
• 1 in 8 deaths worldwide is caused by stroke.

Source: https://www.stroke.org.uk/sites/default/files/state_of_the_nation_2017_final_1.pdf

I find the statistics pretty hard reading though:
About half get a brain scan WITHIN AN HOUR of arriving in hospital, almost 9 out of 10 patients have a brain scan within 12 hours. At 18 hours in they were still insisting it couldn't possibly be a stroke and finally agreed to do a scan 'just in case'.
In Scotland 8 out of 10 people are admitted to a stroke unit within 24 hours. We're in England, my mum waited a week for a bed to become available.
And then the shit about therapies and rehabilitation - everything stopped dead as soon as she was discharged. No physio, no speech therapy, nothing.

So yeah, forgive me if I don't find it funny.