CURRICULUM VITAE (MEMENTO VIVERE)

Having been so bitterly rejected both in love and at work, I started to look around for new opportunities. I don’t remember how I found it, but a nursing home nearer to where I lived at the time (Cleethorpes) was advertising for a Therapeutic Activities Co-ordinator to develop a range of meaningful activities with frail elderly people who also had -iirc - impaired memory, or dementia. Right up my street (well, just around the corner).

CURRICULUM VITAE (AD ABSURDUM)

I spent most of my three years ‘working’ in Manchester down the pub. When I was in my shared smoke-filled office, I was more often than not playing a very early demo of football manager (four free seasons, on repeat), or compiling a regular comedy fanzine for the five-a-side footy team I helped to found and run. They were crazy and fun times. Every other weekend, I got a train back to Lincolnshire for band rehearsals, recordings and occasional gigs.

TORYBOY

ToryBoy The Movie is the account of filmmaker John Walsh’s disillusionment with what he saw as the corruption, lies, hypocrisy and general incompetence of Blair’s Labour government, and his conversion to the Conservative (Tory) Party general election candidate for Middlesbrough in 2010. Under his own steam and £15,000 of his own money, John found his opponent, Sir Stuart Bell, the serial incumbent Labour MP, invisible and unknown to his local constituents who nevertheless voted him back in every four or five years (albeit with an ever diminishing majority).

Bit of a damp squib today, but eleven years ago these were the scenes the morning after Diwali.

GETTING DRESSED

My three and a half year old is going through that stage where he doesn’t want to get dressed in the morning to go to nursery. I remember with my oldest lad some mornings I used to be in tears trying to get him ready. Fortunately, their mum is now working from home and has taken on this task with the little one. My main job now is to remind my nine year old to “sit at the table and eat your breakfast” every two minutes.

PLAY STREET

We used to play in the street outside our home as kids growing up in the 70s. In rural Lincolnshire. Of course, it wasn’t a main road, it was the road on our council estate. Pretty much everyone had a car, and many of the houses had their own garage. In London, or Greater London, it’s generally not safe for kids to play in the street, although we’re lucky where we are that our little cul-de-sac can double-up as a relatively safe enough play area most of the time.

Morning walk, ostensibly to source the kids' favourite ice lollies. Mission unaccomplished.

Big kid with the tree he planted at his school.

I hadn’t realised until today that they are building a new park with “viewing mounds” (similar to those at Northala Fields?) beyond Glade Lane park.

Big kid woke up with a sore throat and didn’t want to go to school. Gave him paracetamol and told him he should spend the day in bed to recover. Half an hour later he bounced back into the living room with “I’m back”.

Man carrying straw on a pitchfork?

Love this tree.

Christmas tree and lights up. Boys did most of the tree decorating. Much quicker and less stressful than previous years.

Christmas tree and lights up. Boys did most of the tree decorating. Much quicker and less stressful than previous years.

Wife is eating fish and chips while watching Korean soap on her tablet, while our little one sits on my knee eating chips and watching Sesame Street on TV. Big one is fully immersed in Minecraft.

This tree is broken and falling into the water.

Glad I don’t have to decorate this tree.

Some beautiful trees at my son’s school.