Father’s Day blues – In the name of Thiago – Day 169


 

The problem with having days like Mother’s Day, Father’s Day is while they make the huge percentage of people very happy, for a select few they are utter shit. I’ve been in touch with a mate of mine who very much feels the same way as we’ve both lost someone very close to us far too young. For him it was his Dad when he was young, for me, my little boy Thiago.

 

Just typing those words today makes me feel unbelievably shit. The one child I have left, who graciously hasn’t decided to die on me, just doesn’t really want to know me any more it seems. Elisa barely leaves her room at the moment. I know she’s approaching adolescence but just being acknowledged at a time other than when providing a meal would be a nice touch occasionally. And all this, while everyone else is getting caught up by the rampant commercialism of Father’s Day.

 


 



I’ve been out on my weekend 15 mile walk today and I feel great, well physically at least. I got back shortly after 2pm and I can honestly say that there are no aches or pains today, which is a massive step in the right direction. As I was plundering along today I had a catch up with my mate Jim. He’s a real fountain of knowledge and I always enjoy our conversations. He’s given me a few useful pointers for a little project I have in mind.




I’ve been doing some further experimenting with vlogging today. You’ll have to follow me on Twitter if you want to see some of the disasters that befell me earlier. It was while doing one of these vlogs that I managed to not quite duck under a branch enough, which then caught my hat.

 

As I tried to stop it hitting the deck, I also dropped my phone. It was just a monumental balls up really which has also led to my phone’s charging point being blocked with mud. What an utter fucking pillock I am, (see also yesterday’s blog for further pillock evidence).

 


 

It was nice to walk past this place and see that the St George’s Flag had been removed. My heart used to sing when I saw the pub before with it’s lovely canalside location, and then sink when I saw the flag. It’s strange, maybe it’s because I’m English but I don’t associate other country’s flags with those negative feelings. Maybe I’m just not living it, so it’s not the same. The flag used to annoy me so much that previous pictures I’ve taken of the pub have always been from the side of the building.

 


 

It was a good walk today, lots of variety of weather and bumping into a few people along the way including an older couple, who I ended up having a nice conversation with about our local hospital. I told them I was doing a fundraiser for Royal Stoke as the lady’s granddaughter works there. But I didn’t tell them why I was doing it. Sometimes I think I can be a little guilty of oversharing and they didn’t need to know. It wouldn’t have improved their day I don’t suppose.

 

Well I’d better get on with sorting out dinner – maybe Elisa will speak to me if I get cracking. Do donate if you can folks, until tomorrow take care.

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