Seldom the visionary

Local interest

A few weeks ago, Terry Pratchett appeared at a local bookshop for a signing.

I thought at the time that would be difficult to top, but no, St Evenage has done it.

Today, Howard, the bespectacled advisor is appearing at the local branch of The Halifax.

How cosmopolitan is that?

Add comment May 27th, 2005

Missed

I miss my parents. A lot. Constantly.

There is not a day goes by when I don’t regret their passing.

There are days when I can forget the dull mundanity of my childhood, the constant shifting from one military base to another, then endless streams of friends that I moved from.

That was simply the life my parents had. I went with them, I was a kid.

I can’t remember their arguments. I can only sometimes remember their voices.

I do remember being promised a drum set when I was five years old. And I remember my mother spontaneously buying me an electronic drum kit when I was a teenager. Odd that I never asked why.

Guilty memory, I guess.

My mum, at that time, must have known she was dying.

She did things which to me showed this - she taught my father how to cook Sunday lunch, how to work the washing machine…how to become self-sufficient.

At the end of my dad’s time, I had a surreal conversation with him, him on his death bed, me on a remarkably uncomfortable hospital chair.

We talked about a few things. I told him I loved him, and that he was a good dad. Because he was. He taught me a lot about being a man. He also showed me that it’s okay to be imperfect.

I promised him that I would get his sister to come up from Devon for his funeral.

This was something I failed to do. I knew she wouldn’t come up. She didn’t come up for my mother’s funeral 9 years before, nor for my own wedding 4 years later.

And it was a conscious decision.

I thought it through and decided that I had a choice - beg, plead, demand my aunt come to the funeral, and be disappointed, or not ask. To simply tell her when the arrangements were, and see what she said. She said she was old and had problems travelling - these things I knew.

There is something that bugs me, though.

On his death bed, my father clearly told me I had a sister. He wasn’t talking about his sister - he said “your sister.”
Even in the final stages of emphysema, I’d be surprised if he’d confused “my” with “your”.

I know two facts which fill me with, well, the exact opposite of glee.

The first one was that my mother had major problems with my labour, and she couldn’t have further children. I don’t know what the troubles were. I dread to think.

And the second fact; my father had been married once before. To the rather unfortunately named Olive.

Well, it’s unfortunate when you take into consideration my surname.

Names.

Hmmm. Did you know that Thomas means twin?

What a curious thing.

Add comment May 24th, 2005

National vegetarian week…

…starts today.

I rather suspect that the marketing campaign might gather a little interest.

Add comment May 23rd, 2005