Great Minds……

So there I am puzzling about the next subject to write about and as it seemed to be a logical progression after writing about our new kitchen, I thought I’d post a recipe. Everyone has a signature recipe. Mine is Toad in the Hole. I make a mean Toad in the Hole apparently or did my kids call it “sick”?

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So, using the new MacBook Air PIL and the kids got me for my birthday, I wrote the recipe and how to make Toad in the Hole. All I had to do was put the photos in and Bobs your uncle but due to time restrictions and being knackered I decided to wait until the following day to finish off. Just as well I did, cos the next day one of the brilliant bloggers I follow (and I don’t follow that many) did something they had never to my knowledge done before. They posted a recipe! Oh Bugger! Never mind, it can wait. I can post it sometime in the future. So I decided to write something on a subject that I found fascinating. About half way through and because it was late, I paused and decided to continue the following day. The following day duly arrived (unlike tomorrow, which never does) and my new bloody laptop wouldn’t let me in! Bastard. I then reenacted the washing machine scene from Uncle Buck with an awful lot of profanity, cursing and shouting but to no avail. The bastard thing just wasn’t going to let me in unless I gave it the correct password. Now my password is something that no one would ever guess in a million years unless you were PIL or my kids but it is incredibly easy for a berk like me to remember. Try as I might the bloody stubborn bastard Apple Are Shits product was having none of it. So I gave up. I decided to let the thing fester for a week or so. Weeks passed (it might have been days as I’m prone to exaggeration) and eventually I tried again. I tried a different password just in case. Nope. It was having none of it. So I gave up again. PIL said she’d take it back if I didn’t get it sorted. Then Greg said to me,

“Dad. Did you start your password with a capital letter?”

Doh! For the first time ever, I’d used a capital letter at the start of my password. I was in! But I couldn’t be arsed to finish it that night and decided to wait until the following day. The following day duly arrived and after my coffee and donut breakfast, I opened my emails to discover that the very same person who had beat me to the draw on writing a recipe had started her A-Z challenge and was writing about the exact same subject I was about to finish writing a post on. Cockney Rhyming Slang!

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So to pass the time of day I started my Zuckerbook Facetube thing. Lily became my first friend. After about a week, I’ve decided to knock it on the head because it is such a pile of crap. I put down my likes and from that moment onwards I was inundated with every single possible thing to do with my likes. By the time I had looked at one, eight more had appeared. It’s awful. Trying to find comments was proving impossible amongst all the dross. I felt my personal space was being constantly invaded. I got paranoid. Some bastard somewhere had written an algorithm that was prying into my world and I didn’t like it one bit so that Facesucker bloke can go whistle.

Have a great day.

More Dick soon.

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A Splendid Dry White

It was a dark and stormy night. So PIL and I got sloshed. It was MarchApril, Springtime last year and we were discussing kitchens. As you do. Ours was now getting dated and to be honest, a bit grubby. It needed to be replaced and we were browsing through masses of catalogues extolling the virtues of countless kitchens. The combination of 2,538 different kitchens and the several bottles of a splendid dry white confused us and we decided to wait until after our holiday before going back to the subject. At least, that’s what I think we decided. The dry white really was very splendid and very moreish.

Come the autumn  we restarted our thoughts about the kitchen and utility room and what to put on the floors. We researched and we looked. We went to the DIY warehouses, we looked at bespoke kitchens (and passed out when we were told the price). We wanted something that was modern, looked good and was easy to keep clean. We’re both busy people and cleaning the kitchen with three urchins for children was not on our “To Do’ list. We found what we were looking for and were just about to sign the papers when PIL had a change of mind. She wasn’t entirely happy so we continued our search. In the end PIL found what she was looking for, placed the order and every thing was set for the start in the new year. The only thing we kept was the Butler sink in the utility. We already had a new washing machine and tumble dryer in there, we were getting a new dishwasher, one of those big American fridge freezer things and a new Aga Rangemaster cooking range. We would have more cupboards and new floors right through the hall, kitchen and utility. Smashing. The only drawback was that the new cooker was made to order. The company supplying all the units got it for us as they were £300 cheaper than we could find it. It was due, apparently, on 25th January.

So on the 11th January Jason and his team turned up and ripped out our old kitchen. We would live on take aways and microwave meals for a few weeks but I could manage a change to my chicken and pasta or pasta and chicken diet.

As soon as the old units were gone, our new kitchen started to arrive.

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I have to say Jason was brilliant. He organised the plasterer, the electrician and the tilers and they did a grand job. We forgot to sort out the tiles we wanted but fortunately remembered two days before the tilers were due and we found exactly what we wanted almost straight away and they were in stock. Result!

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One afternoon half way through the refit, Jason was working in the garage cutting up something or other and he said to me;

“Might be a problem mate. I went into the kitchen place to find out when the new cooker is being delivered as I need to organise the electrician and plumber to install it and they told me it’s now not due until 25th February! I don’t think PIL is gonna be too happy with that.”

“Mate not being happy is an understatement. She’s going to be really pissed.” I replied.

“Really pissed about what?” said a voice next to me.

It was PIL and she was home! I told her.

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“Right. Someone is going to suffer.” she said.

The loud noise heard in Kent during January wasn’t a small nuclear device detonating. It was PIL on the phone to the kitchen guys. Bloody hell was she ticked off or what?

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The excuse they gave was that when they ordered it they were told it would be delivered on the 25th. They assumed January. Sounded weird to me. They owned up to the error and offered a refund. So another month of bloody take aways lay ahead of us.20160119_181548

That evening PIL received a text from Aga Rangemaster thanking her for her order, giving a reference number and saying they would be in contact soon to arrange delivery. She showed it to me and said;

“What do you think of this?”

“Looks to me like they’ve only just received the order.” I said.

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The following morning PIL rang Aga and asked when the order had been placed. The chap at the other end said he couldn’t tell us as we weren’t the client, only the destination but he could say that the text is sent out on the day the order is placed. Without fail.

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We got a bigger refund.

Then the fridge freezer arrived. We had ordered that. We left it for a day to settle down and then discovered one of the adjustable legs was jammed so it couldn’t be levelled and the internal gasket on the freezer door was perished.

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We were supplied with another one.

In the meantime, PIL had got a couple of sample pots of the two colours she was thinking of painting the walls. So we painted a part of the wall and in the interests of democracy, we asked the children which one they preferred. They chose the one we didn’t like and so we ignored their choice and decided on the other one.

Where our new cooker was supposed to be.

Where our new cooker was supposed to be.

Eventually, on the 1st March our new cooker arrived and was installed, completing our new kitchen. It really is the dogs danglies.

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Now all we have to do is remember which bloody cupboard everything is in. It takes an age to cook dinner as we can’t remember where the saucepans are, where we put the flour, where the vegetables are in the ginormous fridge or what we did with the plates. Knives and forks? They’re in there somewhere.

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In the end though, it has all been worthwhile and I have to say PIL made some brilliant decisions. Next on the list is the bathrooms. Bugger!

Have a great evening.

More Dick soon.

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The M25

Also known as The London Orbital Motorway because it very nearly completely surrounds London. It doesn’t quite because the section over the River Thames at Dartford is an “A” road so that traffic forbidden from using motorways like horse drawn carriages, mopeds under 50cc, cyclists, tractors and ride on lawn mowers can cross the Thames here. I’m looking forward to seeing a ride on mower chugging along crossing the QEII bridge!

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When it’s good it’s very, very good but when it’s bad it’s an absolute bastard! Chris Rea is supposed to have written ‘The Road to Hell’ while stuck in a jam on the M25. Talking Heads “Road to Nowhere’ is also very apt as the whole of the M25s 117 miles doesn’t actually go anywhere except round and round which is why it’s often referred to as the Worlds longest car park. I use it a lot and I need to have a bit of a rant.

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Most of the M25 is now 4 or more lanes in each direction but not all of it. So as an “experiment” some bright spark

 

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decided to increase the number of lanes from 3 to 4 in two seperate sections by converting the hard shoulder to a live traffic lane. I travel along the northern section of this experiment on a regular basis. There are little lay-byes every couple of miles for broken down vehicles. I find it amazing that the Highways Agency who are responsible for roads in the UK actually knows EXACTLY where vehicles will breakdown, get a flat tyre or crash into each other so they can take refuge in the Refuge that just happens to be where they have broken down, had a crash or got a flat tyre. A load of bollocks. What actually happens is that the broken down vehicle is left stranded in the middle of the motorway with cars passing at high speed or lorries carrying 40 tons of cargo bearing down on them. (The speed limit in the UK is 70mph but no one goes that slow except trucks and ride on mowers, everyone else is doing at least 80 mph. Except me of course). So the Highways Agency put speed limit signs up saying “40mph”. “Stranded vehicle” and “Queue ahead” which everyone ignores because the Highways Agency forget to turn them off again after the “Stranded vehicle” has been removed, so 7 times out of 10 there’s nothing there. Eventually, drivers come across the obstruction and are forced to stop. A four lane traffic jam forms and quickly lengthens. The emergency services arrive at the end of a 10 mile tailback totally unable to reach the incident because some twit thought it would be a good idea to turn the hard shoulder, which is used by broken down vehicles as a refuge and by the emergency services to get to an incident, into a live traffic lane. It then takes 4 hours to clear a car with a flat tyre.

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Last year a truck caught fire. Not a major problem usually but he had no hard shoulder to pull into. The fire spread along the lorry. Traffic built up behind it and at the end of that queue were half a dozen fire engines that were going nowhere. So. More fire engines were despatched from the other direction. By the time they arrived past all the rubber neckers, the lorry was completely engulfed in flames, the sides of the trucks trailer had collapsed and 40 tons of cargo, which was also on fire had fallen out and covered the rest of the carriageway. The tarmac melted and absolute chaos reigned

lorry 3 @brocky74

In February, a lorry broke down and the tailback created was 12 miles long! How do I know this? I know this because it happened during the evening rush hour and Thank God, I was travelling in the opposite direction on my way home.

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This is a photo of the traffic jam that I refer to.

One lorry, yes ONE lorry, breaks down and the motorway system around London grinds to a halt. All because some 45 year old idiot

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who probably still lives with his mum and dad, wears a cardigan his mum knitted for him, masturbates a lot, can’t drive and travels everywhere by train thought it would be a good idea not to have what is effectively an emergency lane on one of the busiest motorways in Europe.

 

Cost to the UK? Probably billions in lost time and spoiled goods and an adverse effect on my blood pressure.

I have a message for this person:

My hat is more intelligent than you buster.

 

NOW

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Rant over. Have a great evening by avoiding the M25

More Dick soon.

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My Family

I often forget what it says at the top of my blog thingy. “Life, The Universe and Everything That Matters to Me” and rabbit on about something trivial, so now to write about the most important thing in my life. Family. Obviously all the opinions stated are hugely biased and why not? They’re my opinions so I’m allowed to be biased.

Dick.

Terribly boring. Hasn’t got a clue about most things that involve any technology more sophisticated than clock work and has issues with that as well. Spends most of his time attempting to avoid carrying out the tasks that PIL, the love of his life asks him to do and wonders why she gets the hump with him. Boring job that pays the bills (just). Rough men stand ready and all that.

Taken a split second before face slapping the snow. Again!

Taken a split second before face slapping the snow. Again!

PIL.

Drop dead gorgeous and totally unaware of it. When she walks it looks like she’s chewing a toffee with her butt. Smashing! Has a really cool job up in London working for this huge multi national company that apparently searches for engines. I believe they search for all kinds of engines such as automobile engines, aero engines, motor cycle engines, marine engines and probably more. I think PIL specialises in marine engines for fishing fleets as she’s always on about “trawling the net” and stuff like that. Dress code seems to be pretty casual and I have to say she fills a pair of skinny jeans admirably.

It's a hard life

It’s a hard life

Ed.

Our eldest. An ambitious young man who has continuously set himself goals. For some years now, he has set his heart on working in the City of London and that’s exactly what he is doing now. It’s with a company that deals with all the Tier 1 banks (whatever they are) so he gets to see every aspect of the financial world and he’s loving every minute of it. The company he works for seems well structured with continuous training, a commitment to promoting from within plus well thought out expansion plans. The possibility of working in places like New York is strong which is another aspect he likes the sound of. He worked hard at school and at University to achieve his goals. Like his younger brother and sister, he not only worked hard but played hard too with a great deal of success on the playing fields at rugby, football, basketball and cricket. Crap at golf though. Ed isn’t the best when it comes to trains as we have often waited at our local station to pick him up only to get a call from him to say the train got lost and he is now twenty miles away and can we come and get him as he spent the cash he had for a cab down the pub!

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Greg.

Did well in his ‘A’ levels and won a place at Aberystwyth University to study Human Geography with Economics. Greg decided to have a gap year as he had been in the education system from the age of 3 and really fancied a break after 15 years. PIL and I were happy with this. Then, he discovered a course that really caught his imagination, International Relations. So, he changed his mind and went to college to take a further two A levels; World Development and Film Studies. The former because he had become fascinated by this subject and the latter because he had always been interested in movies. He has conditional offers to the Universities he has chosen. He now has to decide and accept an offer from the one he thinks will provide him with the best education and also the best sports facilities as Greg also played football, rugby, basketball and cricket for the school. He also ran cross-country. Like his older brother he is also crap at golf. A fascinating person with the ability to name the starting line ups for all the Premiership football teams, the defensive and offensive starting line ups for the NFL plus the starting line ups for all the NBA teams plus all the rugby teams in both hemispheres and yet cannot remember where the dish washer is, how to turn it on and where all the stuff goes when its finished and needs emptying!

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CJ.

Having only just become a teenager, CJ has a long school career ahead of her. Like her two brothers she loves school and all that it has to offer. That, to a great extent is down to the school. She is currently at the Junior school and plans to board at the senior school come September. She is currently studying for the Common Entrance exam that will allow her to do this. As well as being clever like her brothers, something they got from their mum rather than me, CJ is also like her brothers in being very sporty. In 2014 she took part in the schools cross-country race. She came second. Not, I hasten to add, second in the girls or her age group but second overall! Earlier this year she was asked to swim for the senior school in a major inter school competition. She rocked up expecting to swim for the under 14s and actually swam for the under 16s! She came third in the individual 50 metre backstroke and wiped the floor with the opposition in the backstroke leg of the 50 metre medley relay. She’s captain of the Netball team, plays hockey and was in the ‘A’ team a year early. She’s also House captain and it has to be said her school reports are brilliant. To top it all, she was awarded the David Gower Sports Scholarship to the senior school earlier this month against some really stiff competition. The future looks bright for her as well. Now all we can hope for is that as a boarder at the senior school, they will get her to clean her room up. Messy just doesn’t sum it up. She leaves a trail of discarded water bottles, Ben & Jerries ice cream containers, shin pads, hoodies, trainers and hockey sticks all over the house.

Getting ready for some sport or other

Getting ready for some sport or other

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PIL and I don’t really mind though, our kids are just bloody brilliant and we love them all to bits and we are so proud of everything they do. (Well almost everything. There have been one or twelve little episodes that we won’t go into here, the toe rags).

Dexter.

Of course Dexter is an integral part of our family. Every household should have a pet of some description, whether it be a dog or a cat or a gerbil or a budgie. A rat, a snake, a spider or lizard. Dexter is a lovely, stupid dog that we love to pieces. Except today when he decided to roll around in some pretty pungent badger crap! Bastard dog!

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Have a great day.

More Dick soon.

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Dexter

After the emotional stuff that left me completely drained, I thought it would be nice to be a bit more light hearted.

Some months ago I was walking Dexter, our dog, out in the fields close to where we live and took some video of him prancing about. When the crops are taller than he is, Dexter does this Tigger like jump so that he can see where he is. It looks cute. It’s taken me from April last year until now to figure out how to transfer the video from my phone to my laptop. Eldest son sorted it for me in the end. The video lasts for less than a minute. Enjoy.

 

 

 

Hitting the deck isn’t the problem. It’s getting back up again!

Have a great day.

More Dick soon.

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I Remember. Part 4.

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I remember that when I took the decision to buy a house so that she and our children had somewhere to live where they would feel and be safe, quite a few people I knew thought I was nuts. Their attitude was “She made her bed. Now she has to lie in it.” Their attitude was reinforced by the knowledge that I would be taking on even more responsibility as I am not CJs biological father.  He had taken the decision not to bother. I accepted that responsibility quite happily and consider CJ to be my daughter. She considers me to be her Daddy.

I remember that for me, it was a simple solution. Some people have said that I did a remarkable thing but I don’t. I saw it as something that needed to be done. She had stopped loving me but I had not stopped loving her. Emotions are not something to just turn on and off as required.lovenoteObviously, there was an up side for me here too. If she was happy for me to stay there then i would see so much more of her and our children. She was happy for me to stay. So I did.

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I remember we moved into our new home. We each had our own room. I admit to taking the largest as mine but felt that there may well be times when I needed to be apart from them to give them space if they needed it. It rarely has. Mostly, it’s been me that needed a bit of space! There have been many times when it’s been a struggle not just emotionally but financially and socially as well but we have all just got on and done what needed to be done. There are times when I wonder to myself if it would have been better if I had just let her deal with all the crap on her own because she would have got through it all I’m sure but I don’t regret it one iota. We work well together.  We’re like Forrest and Jenni. We are like peas and carrots.

There are many times when I do still get very depressed because we’re not a couple. Sometimes I see a couple walking along holding hands and every now and again that will set me off just because we don’t hold hands and I’d love to do that.

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I’d love love to caress her face and her hair.  I would love for her to want to do that to me. It’s not to be and I pick myself up again, dust myself down and continue with my life.

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At the moment I think the count stands at 347.  I now live by this little 6 word motto. Whatever crap comes my way and knocks me down, I will always but always get up again. My life ain’t so bad!

My heartfelt thanks to everyone who responded to my previous three posts on this subject. The response was really overwhelming. To my friends who know who I am who contacted me to make sure I was ok, especially Bunsen and Princess Natalie, rest assured that after 15 years I know how to cope with and deal with my dark moments. To my interweb friends, Lily Moose, Monkey Boy and Tessa, thank you for your words of encouragement. It was a very difficult topic to write about and your encouragement helped me to get through it.

Am I better person for my experiences? I have no idea. I don’t know what I would be like if they hadn’t happened. My sister tells me I am a good man and that’s good enough for me.

Do I feel better for having written about this subject and got it off my chest? No. Writing this stirred up all kinds of memories, both good and bad. There was stuff I discovered so deeply buried that I had forgotten it was there until I started poking around in my memory. It’s probably not something I would do again as it hurts. As for those who say “Time heals”, I can assure you it doesn’t. For me, and I imagine for others who have suffered in the same way, the pain never goes away. As time goes on it becomes background noise as you grow used to it but it never goes. It may not be as raw but it’s there.

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On that note, the family is due home soon. I’m looking forward to seeing them and I think I need to start thinking about burning some food for dinner. Take care.

Have a great day.

More Dick soon.

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I Remember. Part 3

 

us now

…..But now there’s wrinkles around my baby’s eyes

And she cries herself to sleep at night

When I come home the house is dark

She sighs “Baby did you make it all right?”

She sits on the porch of her daddy’s house

But all her pretty dreams are torn

She stares off alone into the night

With the eyes of one who hates for just being born

For all the shut-down strangers and hot-rod angels

Rumbling through this promised land

Tonight my baby and me we’re gonna ride to the sea

And wash these sins off our hands……..

Racing in the Street from the album Darkness on the Edge of Town.

Bruce Springsteen. 1978

I remember the woman I love was frightened and scared. Our children who lived with her picked up on this and after seeing what their Mums new partner was capable of they were scared too. They lived their lives in one bedroom of their rented house and pretended not to be in. Just in case he came again. He seemed to think that because she rented, he had every right to come and go as he pleased.

I remember thinking “This won’t do.” I couldn’t be there all the time. So I decided that the only way to deal with this was to buy a house where they could live and where I could live to. I did that and they moved in. He turned up one day when I was in. I answered the door and told him to go and he left, never to be seen by me again.

I remember that she and I talked about this slightly odd situation. Our neighbours think we’re man and wife and it makes it easier that way.

I remember that I told her she was safe now and that as long as she wanted, she and our children could stay. I would never make a move on her no matter how tempted I might be. And boy, have I been tempted.

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I remember that we’ve been here for over a decade now. The woman and children that I love so very much are here and safe. I get to see them all a lot. To see them and to talk to them and sometimes to hug them all. I wish them ‘Good night’ and say ‘Good morning’ and ‘Have a great day’. We celebrate Christmas and birthdays together. I watched my children grow up. Am I happy? I’m happier than I would have been. It isn’t perfect but it’s what I have and that will have to do. After all, who knows what tomorrow might bring? We both get on together. I think she sometimes thinks in her head that I’m an idiot but I know in her heart she cares a lot and perhaps what’s in her heart is love.

More Dick soon.

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A Change of Pace

PIL often leaves me a list of things to do when I’m at home. Today I made up my own. I have a ton to do but this is a good start.

badass day

Now please excuse me. I have a badass day to get started on. But first, where’s that coffee?

coffee!!!

Now that’s a coffee!

Have a great day.

More Dick soon.

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I Remember. Part 2.

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I remember being aware that things in our marriage had not been going well for a month or two but I wasn’t terribly concerned as we loved each other didn’t we?

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I remember assuming she understood why I was doing the things I was doing and working all the hours possible. I was wrong.

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I remember her saying she wanted to have a serious chat with me. I don’t remember exactly when it was now but I remember quite distinctly where it took place. I sat next to her and she told me she didn’t love me any more and that she wanted a divorce. She cried while she told me.

I remember being speechless. My whole being was screaming at me to say something and to put this right and I couldn’t. I just couldn’t speak.

I remember her saying it wasn’t me, it was her that had changed and she assured me there was no one else. I knew that very soon I would wake up from this God awful nightmare. I still haven’t.

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I remember that shortly afterwards, I watched her and our children driving away from what had been our home. I stood at the door and I did nothing to stop them going. I was frozen. I watched them go and I did nothing to stop them going.

I remember thinking as I shut the door;

“How the bloody hell did you manage to screw that up?”

I remember I cried. I cried tears for days and I cried out with the pain and the agony that I felt. I still do. I see a couple walking along holding hands or I hear a particular song on the radio and it brings back the pain.

I remember my whole world started to unravel very, very quickly and I fell to bits. I was devastated. I was crushed. How could I have not seen this developing and done something about it? How could I be so stupid? So cocksure?

I remember getting absolutely wasted and staying like that for some days.

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I remember the loneliness. God. How I remember the loneliness.

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I remember finding out that there was indeed someone else and I remember the anger I felt at the deception. We had never lied to each other and this was a low blow and the anger and bitterness swelled up inside me.

I remember how the anger faded. If this is what makes the woman I love happy then I really ought to go with that. I wanted her to be happy more than anything else and if it destroyed me in the process then so be it.

I remember the help and wisdom and support I got from my sister and her husband. Boo and Gupta saw me through some pretty dark days and they were always there for me. They still are. Boo, more than anyone else, knows what I went through and what I still go through every day. They are both the most incredible and kind people.

I remember that she never once stopped me from seeing our children whenever I wanted and to take them abroad on holiday but it broke my heart again every time I walked away from them. And from her.

I remember I didn’t eat very often and then after years I thought to myself that I really should put myself back together again. I was unrecognisable to the person I used to be.

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I remember that I didn’t know where to start. How do you put a puzzle back together again if many of the pieces are gone? They’re missing never to return. Other pieces that had never been there before appeared and got slotted in somewhere. I had to work from the ground up. I didn’t know what to do with the pieces I kind of recognised let alone how to deal with the bits I didn’t.

I remember eventually returning to something approaching normal. Some people say that a Piscean is never actually what you see on the outside and that was true of me then and also of me now. The happy person cracking jokes on the outside that people see is concealing the utter mess and turmoil on the inside.

I remember getting into a relationship with another woman. It was nice but there was no spark and it didn’t last long.

I remember her relationship started to go wrong. It had been going wrong for a while, but I wasn’t pleased. The woman I love was in turmoil and as her relationship grew ever more sour, it started to become violent and as I was to find out, he had used violence for some time. She is no angel but violence towards women is a no-no in my book.

I remember getting a phone call from her. She was scared. The children were at school and she was under threat. I left to go there. She rang while I was on my way to say he was now going to attack me if I came, so don’t come. I still went.

I remember that despite being half my age and twice my size we fought. He needed to know that to attack her was to attack me and consequences for his actions were involved.

I remember that they decided to live apart and she rented a nice house for her and the children to live in. I would visit as would he. I would bring the boys back from football on a sunday and mow the grass and we would have lunch. He was often there. I wasn’t exactly thrilled with this but I saw my children and I saw her and spent time in their company.

I remember one sunday I was there and they had argued and she didn’t want to see him that day. He turned up.I said he wasn’t welcome today and it kicked off again. In front of my children! I didn’t want them to see this. I got him out of the house but I took some damage doing it. A lengthy visit to A&E was involved. I don’t ever remember seeing him again after that.

I remember that after that incident she and our children lived in fear of him turning up again but I wasn’t allowed to stay and protect them.

scared-woman

I remember thinking; “This really won’t do.”

More Dick soon.

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I’m not sure I can continue. I will try.

I Remember. Part 1

I remember the first time I saw her. I had just started a new job. She had been on holiday. She walked into my life with that lithe, fluid self-confident way I have always admired.

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I remember thinking she was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen.

I remember what she was wearing the first time I saw her. A white blouse, black heels and a short black skirt that showed off her long, tanned legs.

I remember hearing her speak for the first time .

I remember the first time I heard her laugh. Her voice and her laughter were magical.

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I remember seeing her that first day and being utterly enthralled, completely smitten.

I remember every molecule of my being wanting her, wanting to know everything about her in every detail.

I remember that first day I saw her as being the day I fell in love.

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I remember there were difficulties. I was a few years older. We were both in relationships. But I had seen the fire in her eyes and she had seen the fire in mine so nothing was insurmountable. We started going out and it was bliss.

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I remember the first time we kissed. Her lips were moist and soft. Our mouths were a perfect match. Our tongues were agile. Time stopped.

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I remember the first time we made love. Where we were. Every detail. We went to Heaven and saw God and he said;

“Go back and keep doing that dude and dudette. Come up to Heaven whenever you want.”

So we did. We went and saw Him all the time. We made love everywhere and whenever we could. We made love in cars. In bed. On the kitchen table. On the sofa. On the stairs. In the shower. We even made love in the bedroom of a showhouse with the sales staff downstairs.

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I remember the day we moved into our first home together.

I remember the day we got married and how we were both on top of the world.

I remember the walks we went on and the joy we had in each others company and how we missed each other when we were apart.

 

I remember how we worked hard at our respective jobs and how she encouraged me to start up on my own. How we became successful in our work and enjoyed the spoils of our good fortune and hard work.

I remember seeing our children being born and how seeing them being born was the best experience I have ever had. It may not have been quite so great for her at the time but she loves them to bits. She always has and she always will.

I remember always being mesmerised by her eyes. Sometimes they were grey, other times they were blue and on other days they were green. The fire was always there.

 

I remember working hard to maintain our life style. To be able to live in a nice house set in acres of land bounded by a stream. To be able to give our children a great education. To have nice cars and holidays.

I remember being intent on “chasing the money” to the exclusion of everything else.

I remember now in hindsight that I didn’t see the fire in her eyes start to flicker and fade.

More Dick soon.

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Part 2 may follow soon.