“Change is the law of life. And those who look only to the past or present are certain to miss the future.”
John F. Kennedy (1917-1963) 35th President of the United States

I know, I know. It’s been ages. I’ve broken promises and resolutions, hearts and heads, but the blog is back again. For a while, at least. Maybe. Fuck it – who knows? The last… puhhhh…. year has been, well.. – an absolute, total and unrelenting disaster for me, on several levels, and – to be brutally honest – the idea of actually writing down and chronicling my misery at the time was just a bridge too far for me.

So. Change. Things have changed. Irrevocably. Things(tm), as they say, are unquestionably better. They are – by no means – perfect, though, this will come in time.

In August last year, as those of you who know me personally will already know, my marriage broke down. I think, on reflection, it was probably coming sooner or later anyhow, and it just took one of us to have enough guts to actually do something about it. We remain cordial and friendly, and not just for the sake of our beautiful daughter, and are both quite happy being apart.

However, the split meant big changes financially (for both of us), and with the IT industry shrinking following the economic collapse last year, I was finding it very difficult to get work in the North. The house dropped into negative equity, and I spent rather a long time feeling very, very down indeed. Something had to change, and soon.

The only long-term work I could find was in the South – and being as the alternative (not working, not paying the bills) would lead rapidly to bankruptcy – I had to make the decision. So here I am, working slap-bang in the middle of the M4 ‘silicon corridor’, in Reading.

Clearly, a Sheffield to Reading commute isn’t possible, so I am going to move to a ‘penthouse apartment’ (estate agent speak for ’2nd floor flat’) down there, and am going to let out the house in Sheffield until such time as the house becomes viable to sell again.

Of course, this is all exciting and new, and a big change – however it will mean that I’m no longer on Aimee’s doorstep anymore, and this is something which is going to be very, very difficult for me to deal with. I keep telling myself that this arrangement isn’t going to be forever, and that regular families deal well with fathers being away for extended periods (armed forces personnel, oil rig workers, etc), but it does worry me a lot. Though I’m sure this is better than being a penniless bankrupt father living in my mum’s spare room.

To try and help alleviate this, Aimee and I have been using Skype to video chat with each other, but nothing beats a good hug and a toddler-slobber kiss! We’ll see how it works out, I guess.

However – all of this change is currently making my life incredibly busy! Flitting between Reading, Sheffield and Corby, sorting stuff out, moving stuff around, bagging up rubbish, going to the tip, packing, packing, packing! Trying to spend time with Aimee. Spending time with my family. Having the occasional malt and hop-based beverage.

I get the keys to my flat next week, and have got the big job of moving my stuff in ASAP. I’m hoping by this time next month, I’ll be all settled in and – maybe – there’ll be a tenant lined up for the Sheffield place. That’d be good. That’d make me twice as happy as I am now – which would be at least 10 times happier than I was in May.

So – with all this going on, I’m resuming writing – because, clearly, I have enough time to do this as well as everything else!

Oh – and what do you think of the new blog? I migrated it all from Drupal to WordPress, and fiddled around with themes and plugins until I had it how I liked it. What do you think?

Well, that’s well and truly broken the New Year’s resolution. Damnit.

As it happens, the last week has been very busy, and has had some ups as well as downs. There was a ‘shock’ announcement at work, David came to visit us, and Aimee learned how to point to the various parts of ones body in the “Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes” song! Such a busy life!

Anyhow, David came to visit and stay for the weekend, which was great. We’re doing some preliminary investigations into how feasible it might be for us to ‘tank’ out our cellar, and make it a livable room. Presently, the floor is laid with bricks – David dug some up and discovered that there’s just bare soil underneath – so it might be possible for us to rip the bricks out and get a proper floor laid.

In other news – last week, my employers decided to announce the closure of the office I work from, and relocate all staff to their head office some 45 miles away. This is somewhat surprising and certainly disappointing news, but I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t totally unexpected.

Many years ago, in my first job, I let work-related things affect me so much that it messed my head up totally. Bad management, stupid decisions and downright unfair working conditions affected me so much that my usual cheery disposition was slowly erased and replaced with a panic-stricken wreck. Things got so bad that I registered the domain you’re reading this on!

After all this passed, and I got my head right again, I became determined to never allow work to get in the way of my well-being. So, I took this bad news by the scruff of the neck and dealt with it positively – not just cattily whinging about the situation. Time to go back to freelancing.

I’ve no intentions of commuting to our head office everyday, certainly not long-term. So, ‘strike while the iron is hot’ is my mantra at the moment – and, thus far, things are going well.

One benefit of a more ‘flexible’ working arrangement will be that I can spend much more time at home with Aimee. Nothing disappoints me more than having a day when I get up and out of the house before she wakes (no, really, she’s a heavy sleeper!) and return just after she’s gone to bed. It only takes two or three days of this and it’s a significant time without ever seeing her.

A change is as good as a rest, as they say…

The farm is certainly what it says on the tin – a city farm. It’s literally right in the middle of some rows of pre-war workers terraces. It almost looks like the land the farm is sited on previously contained housing, which has been demolished to make way for the farm. Certainly, it’s quite odd to see 3 residential streets bisect the farm itself.

Once you step off the streets, and into the farm, it’s like being on a real farm – complete with the sights and smells(!). I think it’s great – some city kids won’t get to see a farm, and having this on their doorstep is excellent.

All of the staff are volunteers, and I must make a special mention to the young girl who showed us round the ‘small animals’ section, who described the animals in intimate detail and even encouraged Aimee to stroke and touch the animals themselves. Really, really encouraging to see this lass, who must’ve been about 12-13 really taking an interest in the welfare of the animals and not hanging around outside the local shops.

It is, unfortunately, a little run-down. The feeling is that the farm survives and ‘makes do’ as best it can – but some of the structures are looking pretty old and weathered. Probably nothing that a lick of paint wouldn’t fix, I guess. Presently there is no admission charge at all, and visitors are free to wander around the farm as they wish – which is exceptionally trusting in this day and age.

Of course – none of this matters a jot to Aimee, who is solely interested in the animals, who keep her entertained and awed. She’s so very curious – always wanting to see the next ‘thing’ and learn from it. Anyhow, if you’ve a young child, I recommend it.

Unaccustomed as I am to BBC3′s programming, I happened upon the aforementioned programme quite by accident tonight. Why haven’t I watched this before? It’s ‘lush’, it is.

Some of the acting is as wooden as the props, but the writing is, at times, hilarious. The little scene last night involving the overweight couple falling into a lusty romp over Kentucky Fried Chicken had me in stitches! Never before has a KFC corn-cob been used as a sexual metaphor on television!

It’s excellent romantic comedy with a witty twist – give it a go. I’ll have to track down the first series now and give up some more of my Sunday night to a TV show!

Thankfully, my working day presented me with a long afternoon meeting, which once I’d finished with, I tied up my loose ends for the day and headed back down the M18. They appear to be nearing the completion of the J6-J7 roadworks, which is good, because the 50mph restriction there gets right on my tits – the M18 is bad enough as it is with lorries overtaking one another – one in the inside lane doing 56mph, the overtaker doing 57mph. Grrrrr.

When I got home, I was greeted with a “DADA!” exclamation from Aimee, and she attempted to rush over and greet me. This was a little inopportune as Emma was in the middle of changing her nappy – ooops!

She’s only been away a few days, but she changes so quickly. She’s also very quickly turning into her mother – yatter-yatter-yatter-yatter. She never shuts up! Burbling away to us, and herself, in mad babyspeak punctuated with the odd English word here and there. Mebo-waba boo ba Mama, mebo-maba ro-ro Hiya – etc.

I appear to have managed to create myself a depressing ‘game’ with Aimee. It is now, for Aimee, the funniest thing in the world for her to be asked by her mum for a kiss, and she duly obliges, she then turns to me, and I ask for a kiss – and she shakes her head and cackles manically. The little cowbag!

I apologise to any non-parents reading this – I know! – its terribly boring reading about parents gushing about their sproglet’s latest adventures. It’s something I used to cringe about – everytime someone at work told a story about how their kid did ‘X’ yesterday. I swore I’d never be like that, now look at me. Pfeh.

This morning, whilst she was drinking her morning milk (not formula milk, normal milk) she picked up Emma’s mobile. As she always does, she puts it to the side of her face and starts saying “Hiya! Hiya!” into the phone – this isn’t new – what was, was her looking and pointing at the display (the phone wallpaper is, of course, a photo of her) and saying, with some surprise in her voice – “Baba!”. She’s self-aware, and recognizes herself.

It carries on too – with her pointing at me and saying “Dada” and at Emma and saying “Mama”. When I got home from work, she was still up – and did some amazing – at least in my very rose-tinted ‘Daddy’ glasses – things.

Aimee loves CBeebies’ ‘In The Night Garden’, along with most of the rest of the UK under 4 population, and she has some Night Garden toys. I asked her to fetch me Igglepiggle, and she went straight across the room, picked up her Igglepiggle doll and brought him straight to me. She repeated this with her Makka-Pakka and Upsy-Daisy dolls, and her teddy bear. She recognizes the names and has associated them with the dolls!

We’ve also recently bought her a little bean-bag armchair, for her to sit in. We bought her this on Saturday – and she kept half-sitting on it, and squashing down the arms, but by today, she’s got the seat all worked out, and has her toys lined up around it, so that she can sit down and play with her toys! Clever girl!

Her other trick is ‘reading’ – she picks up her books and ‘reads’ away to herself, all in mad babyspeak, of course, but she seems content that she’s telling herself the story.

All this, and she sleeps all night without fuss! Now, if only we could solve this wee problem with her apparently ‘biting’ other kids at nursery…

Got to the leisure centre and was confronted with a worrying sight – a full carpark. Had to park all the way round the back. This didn’t bode well for the ‘busyness’ of the pool – and, indeed, it was pretty packed inside – even at half 9! Nevertheless, Aimee thoroughly enjoyed it – especially the underwater jacuzzi-style jets and the slide in the baby pool! She wasn’t at all impressed when it was time to go home.

Like yesterday, today has been a fairly warm, mild day – it feels like Spring a couple of months early. With this in mind, I stopped off at Halfords on the way home to get a wash mitt to wash the car with. Aimee was fairly zonked by the time we’d got home, so whilst she slept, and while Emma knocked up a lunchtime fry-up I gave the car its first wash of 2008. Sparkling clean!

Gave the leather cleaner and feed stuff a go too, we’ll see how well, or not, it works in the coming days. Car looks great when cleaned up, and I use it as an opportunity to have a quick spin for 20 minutes. It’s days like today when I remember why I bought the car. Great. Now, if only there wasn’t that pissing dent…

Watched Lost this evening – yet more going round in circles. New people, mysterious new people – woo! Just give us some fucking answers for crying out loud! I’m almost entirely positive the creators are running out of ideas and don’t really know where they’re going with it.

It now appears that Ben is somehow able to have a ‘mole’ on-board the other Other’s ship and can apparently receive communique from said mole despite there being no method of transmitting or receiving said and whilst being held captive by Locke and co. Eeeeeenterwesting!