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Showing posts from October, 2020

Gee but it's great to be back home - In the name of Thiago - Day 301

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  Six weeks ago today I was starting out my life-changing journey from the very place I write to you from now. Yes folks I'm back in Eastbourne - until tomorrow at least - and it does feel good to be home. That probably makes me seem very contradictory. After all a fortnight ago, I was thrilled to be 'home' when I was reunited with my wife and daughter at the end of my 350 mile trek. I am very fortunate to have the life that I do now but Staffordshire will never be home to me - that will always be this lovely old part of the south coast from where I write today. We left my brother's gaff this morning to make our way back over to Herstmonceux to have a magnificent brunch with the Nunsboroughs. They were remarkably appreciative that we'd had their eldest daughter Primrose for nigh on a week, though in fairness it was the easiest thing in the world to do. As I've said before on these pages earlier in the week, the two girls have been great friends from babies, whic

Gibbs reaches his triple ton - In the name of Thiago - Day 300

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  As Goochy used to say, (apologies any non-cricket fans out there not aware of the ways of England's former captain Graham Gooch), it's no good to anyone just making a pretty hundred; go on and make it a Daddy i.e. a fucking big one. In my humble amateur cricket career I never got close to making a ton but today is the 300th consecutive day of sharing my thoughts, ramblings and general angst. I daresay a few of you would like to see me make a declaration! I've just rocked up at my brother's gaff after dropping off Elisa's good friend Primrose. The girls are so incredibly different in their personalities and yet they do get on fantastically well. Elisa is a right bloody toerag though, trying to get Primrose to do things for her when she cannot be arsed to move. I have no idea where these mannerisms come from. Here are the girls on our stopping off point at Beaconsfield Services just before you hit the M25 on the joyful route south. It's been weird today making m

Slobbing about and oatcake love-ins - In the name of Thiago - Day 299

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  I admit it. I am reaching a point where the blog is at risk of becoming a burden. The original idea back in January when my grief was extremely fresh, was to keep the blog and the plans for the walk running concurrently. One very much supported the other. It has served me well and I like to think that it has also brought a little light and cheer into many other people's lives. Well I like to think so anyway. I've always been a writer, it's in my blood. I first started writing for the Sussex Express, a Lewes based newspaper when I was 15-years-old. My first game as a reporter was at Newhaven Town, which at the time played in Unijet Sussex County League Division One. They were playing against Pagham. I remember thinking I'd hit the big time and started behaving like a charlie of the big time variety.  I have no idea why I did that. I was always thinking I could run before I could walk with my writing. And so at the first time of asking I wasted the opportunity that came

The pain doesn't pass - In the name of Thiago - Day 298

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This is only the second week of me being back at work and already it's starting to feel like I'm well and truly becoming part of the furniture again. I'm not sure how I feel about that but it's a fair reflection nonetheless of how things seem to be. I need to be conscious of not only how I feel on any one particular day but how I see the next years to come panning out. But then there's a gamble involved in making a change at my stage in life too. I've been in reflective mood. I've had a bit of a struggle emotionally today as well. Everyone seems to be talking about children. And not just talking about them but comparing notes on how parents manage their children's expectations and emotions and how hard it can be as a parent. I really feel for these fuckers I really do. I really feel they should shut the fuck up and cope. They were banging on about this on the radio as I was driving up to Wilmslow for some filming today. I had to turn it off. Of course no

Pumpkins and sheds - In the name of Thiago - Day 297

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  I've been saving this blog since Saturday really, as this was when I got most of the photos you're seeing on today's blog. Being back at work is an odd feeling. Suddenly I'm left wondering what to write about again and what pictures to use to complement the words. As I'm wise to avoid any discussion of what takes place in my workplace - frankly I'd be losing readers by the shedload if I did - I shall discuss sheds. Not loads of them, just the one that my Dad has spent a small fortune on. Well make that a large fortune actually. I don't actually know how much money Dad has spent on this shed, which dominates what used to be a modest garden at his Longton bungalow, but it can't be far short of £20,000. It is my sincere hope that when it's up and running properly he will start to get some use out of it but I suspect it will largely be a case of him sitting in it and having cups of tea. That in itself is fine though. It is, after all, his business what

Home office politics and an attack of the Chalfonts - In the name of Thiago - Day 296

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  Today is a better day. Of course Spurs could alter the complexion before the night's out but that's only football. In the real world - or at least the public sector version of it - it has been a very productive day.  Half terms are odd times to be working in many ways. We are at 50% of our normal team size for the first couple of days this week, which is pretty much always the busiest end of the working week and I'm finishing early for the week on Friday. Today has been plenty busy enough. After all the travails of yesterday with the form-filling something caught my eye today, which helped give me some perspective.  So with this in mind I dusted myself down, thought okay so things are shit (at times) but keeping the spirit of Thiago strong within, I'll now go again and in the meantime stay very busy and make myself useful. I am encouraged these days by the number of people who come to me for something in the sense that I'm seen as someone whose natural disposition

Fucking forms - In the name of Thiago - Day 295

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  Look I know this is my fault blah, blah, blah leaving an application for a job until the day before it's due in but I absolutely do have a case for the defence. Okay it's a little flimsy but it's a case.  The application process for this role is strange. It measures space in characters rather than words, it says that you can attach supporting information but then provides nowhere to attach the information. I've written too much. I've stuck to the task of matching job specification with my experience giving examples and outcomes but I've written too bloody much. Aaaarrrggghh. I made enquiries about the role at the earliest possible opportunity, took advantage of the option of discussing it first, developed a strategy and then when I first had a full day at putting it together i.e. today sat down for several hours to complete it. I can now no longer look at it without wanting to commit a horrendous act of violence. Applying for this role is by any description a

Positivity: a work in progress - In the name of Thiago - Day 294

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  Well that sounds like a less than upbeat blog title Chris. And of course you'd be right. In my blog I've alluded on many occasions to how my ambition for the second half of my life was to be more like my son; a glass half full kind of guy.  On one hand, that's easy. He was bright, he was bubbly, he never grumbled in spite of all the rubbish cards that life dealt him and he left an indelible mark on every single person, who had the pleasure to meet him. On the other hand, he's no longer with us and every time I see a photo of him I burst into tears because I don't think I'm going to be able to cope with him not being around any more. And being in such an emotional state means that all the other shit in life that goes on - I genuinely cannot go into details, it wouldn't help me to do that - just makes me angry, as it is supposedly important but frankly is anything but. Thiago's headstone has been restored. No sooner than I'd arrived at the cemetery,

Wonders, fatigue and an old favourite - In the name of Thiago - Day 293

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  A mixed day is what it's been. I've been very busy with work - too busy to get the time to focus on a job application that I wanted to make progress on unfortunately. But on a positive note, I have been pulling off wonders today that are exactly the kind of thing that would put me in the frame.  I am experiencing a sense of agitation though. There are many things that are tantalisingly out of my control and I'm starting to wonder where my place is. Perhaps I'm on the verge of a mid life crisis. What with my little man passing away, I have every good reason to go through one I guess. But that's not the kind of talk for the here and now. As Thiago taught me, focus on the positive. If ever there was a time for doing that, then it is surely now.  Extraordinarily, this is the bed that Elisa and her mate Bella slept in last night. And no, I'm not going to give you a before and after shot. This is genuinely the after. Naturally, Elisa has had absolutely nothing to do

The father son discord - In the name of Thiago - Day 292

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I've been hurting a lot today. Yesterday, as I wrote in the blog, was the old man's birthday. I've had one of my phenomenal swearing fits this evening when I flipped at a fairly casual remark from Angelica relating to a text conversation she'd been having with my Dad about how happy he'd been to see us on his birthday. The old man  who I'm close to renaming Mr Creosote for the purposes of this blog and my own entertainment - hates the way that I keep at him for staying on top of things that should be within his compass and he made further reference to that today. You see, I know how this is going to end up. He'll continue to do fuck all, expect everything to be done for him and then before you know it, we WILL have to everything for him because he'll have got so used to doing absolutely fuck all. The question I'm asking myself is, will I give enough of a shit to help when he's ignored every offer of help that I have put his way while he still has