The Happiness Rant

Isn’t it funny how most time saving devices do not really save any time at all. I came to this conclusion as I was thinking what time was like before all of these time saving devices were invented. People were more relaxed, spent more time conversing with each other and stress was not even known about. In an attempt by humans to save time, they have only succeeded in cramming more things into a day than they did before. These things are meant to complete a fulfilled life. Society tells us now that if you are not going to the gym at 6am, doing a full days work usually punctuated by a game of squash at lunchtime, and then back home for a jog and a 3 course meal, and then, if time, a two hour social event which you have to leave early to have enough sleep in order to start it all over again, then you are slacking and must try harder to not waste so much time.

You cannot save time, you can only spend it wisely, or not. Time keeps going no matter what you do. A stitch in time saves nine, but society now says a thousand stitches in time saves you nine. Life, the stuff that actually matters in our days, is often missed because (in the words of John Lennon) we are busy doing other things. We invent all of the other things that we strive for every day, like a perfect healthy body, or a new promotion, or a “life changing” holiday. When we reach one of these goals we do not sit back and pretend that life is now over and we have reached utopia. The thrill is always in the chase.

You look forward to opening presents at Christmas time, but once you have opened them and enjoyed them briefly, you look forward to the next 364 days when you can do it again. When you succeed in a promotion that you have been after for years, in a couple of years time you are unhappy and want to progress again. We are never fully happy because we always want something beyond what we have, beyond the stars just out of reach.

The easy way out of all of this is to concentrate on what we do have, not what we don’t. Life isn’t about packing as much as you can into your years, but about being happy for as long as possible. As nearly every problem that we have is contrived by us, it is us that can prevent these problems in our minds. To worry and be unhappy about life that is out of our control is the real “waste of time”.

We have created our own escapes from the realities of life in order to forget, or pretend that one day we will be happy. Organised religion is followed by millions all around the world looking for hope that one day things will be better, and waiting for signs or fate to come knocking on their doors. It is used as a shelter to protect people from life, the natural ebb and flow of life, with its ups and downs. Millions across the world also use drink and drugs for the same purpose, but society chooses to demonise some things but not others.

The real answer to happiness is within. It’s not about what you can have, but what you have already that counts. Life is about living the ups and downs and learning from the experiences, developing as a person, and growing wiser.

Property Ladder

It was a beautiful summer’s day. The rest of the country was under water and yet Manchester was remaining dry and standing like an old castle from yester year, stuck on a hill to ward off invaders. It may be overcast and even slightly cold, but at least we’re not scooping out water using a pair of old shoes. Manchester weather is predictable and boring, but it’s not extreme. You know what you’re getting.

Now the next chapter on the Holley clan moving house. We have had two viewings for our abode. A guy that probably just turns up to look round houses in order to keep himself warm, and a couple much like us BC (Before Children). The nice couple have now asked for a second viewing this Friday with a mother, who is apparently stumping up half of the mortgage. So all being well, we may get an offer soon.

The other side of moving is the target destination. We have found a house that we like in Marple, and we will need a second viewing to ensure that it has the potential that we think it has. It is a 3 bedroom house that now has 4 bedrooms. The upstairs is a little awkward, and if we bought it then we would have to go up into the loft to create a master bedroom and en suite. So a bit of work is needed, and we need to make sure that we can afford to do it. It is slightly intimidating, contemplating buying a house that we could stay in for 20 years. It certainly has the potential to offer us a lengthy stay of incarceration. But I don’t know if I could not get bored for that long. I’m already chomping at the bit to move from where we are, and the thought of staying somewhere and not getting annoyed with the location, or a person, or both, seems to be impossible. So, the chances are we will move, spend 5 years renovating it, and then move again. The thing is, I hate doing up houses, but I love sitting in them when they’re finished. You can’t have one without the other though. Ah, well, I’d better keep them old jeans and scruffy t-shirts handy.

Health Check
Sophie picked up a cough yesterday and we are unsure whether it is a simple cold, or Bronchalitis, an infection that is particularly prone in small babies. So it could mean another trip to the Hospital today. We were hoping that she would make the 6lb marker today, but with this happening she will probably struggle to put weight on.

Dylan on the other hand looks like he will be ready to eat Sophie soon, and we may have to keep them separate until we can teach him that eating sisters is not allowed.

Good and Bad Experiences

Another weekend, and another special day. This time my very first Father’s Day. I am beginning to expect waking up and being treated like a tribal demi-god, showered with gifts for the Almighty by naïve tribesmen with wide-eyed awe. (Or C3PO in a Star Wars reference) However, this is my last occasion for six months, so no danger of getting carried away with it and actually believing that I have a direct line with a super being.

But, it was quite nice while it lasted. A photo frame filled with the images of my two little cherubs, and a book on Tao Philosophy and its integration in the Winnie-the-Pooh stories. Strange!!! I will give you my review after I have read it.

Also, a victory was celebrated this weekend to match the efforts of Wellington at Waterloo, Nelson against the Spanish, and Robson and Jerome keeping Wonderwall off the top spot. Your hero, and auspicious author, has finally defeated the powers of evil and claimed his first Poker win. A sum, higher than a tank of petrol and lower than a tank, was received by me for playing with such skill that the other poor contestants could only sit by and watch as I pillaged their chips. I was in Salford as well, so I left quick smart afterwards in case there were any repercussions.

Due to the intoxication of this famous victory, I returned home in obviously jubilant spirits. Stood in the kitchen with another protagonist, Claire and a lady ready to give birth herself, I decided that now was my moment to join a special club of adult breast milk drinkers. I took my favourite shot glass out of the cupboard and poured myself a tipple, from a bottle in the fridge already chilled to optimal drinking temperature.

DISGUSTING!!!!!!

I’m glad I have taken my window of opportunity in a man’s life to do this legally, but my advice to any other in my position is, trust your first instincts and don’t be so stupid.

The worst part of it all, was after I’d had a go on the milk of human kindness, my fellow companion also puckered up and took a swig of the good stuff. I think that in a way my effort was an extension of a spiritual rite of passage, but the extra round is surely a deviant act.

A Birthday Message

It’s been a good week or so since my last entry, which I know is shoddy, but this will endeavour to summarise the events. 4 weigh-in’s, 3 hospital visits, 2 birthdays and barbecue in a pear tree.

To eliminate the boring facts and figures, that some people are drawn to like Binky to catnip, I can officially report that Sophie has now reached a weight of 5lbs 3.5ozs. We are very proud of this because it means that she is getting there, and as long as she is getting there then she is not going anywhere else. I still can’t wait until she does get there, and hopefully she’ll know when she gets there and stays there rather than turning round and coming back.

The hospital visits have come in quick succession. Monday - Dylan’s hernia check, Tuesday – Both their immunisations and blood tests for Soph, Wednesday – Check up for Sophie. All news is goodish from these visits. Dylan needs an operation to patch up his hernia, and Sophie has been tested to see whether she is actually an Umpah-Lumpah. But she is still growing and that is the most important thing.

Claire had her birthday last Wednesday and this went past without much ado. The older that you get the less important these days become. And then I had my 30th yesterday, and if ever a day matched the significance of the landmark reached, then this was it. A person’s 30th is usually a time to reflect on the wild years that have directly proceeded it and to feel slightly depressed by the thought that these will never be recaptured with the innocence of youth. For this to have been echoed yesterday would be an under statement, an under statement of equal proportions to the time when a dinosaur, having seen a big wave of water rising over a mountain, said, “It may get a bit cold for a while.” The only consolation is that I was so busy doing other things that I really didn’t get a chance to think about it anyway. There was no parade, but a can of beer and a cup cake with a candle in it were a perfect substitute.

It sounds as though it were the type of celebration that Eleanor Rigby would have enjoyed, but I am not sad about this. There are more important things to me now, and this is really the crux of it. Your 30th acts as a stake in the ground that signifies a change in the way that you live your life. Most of the people that I have always admired never reached this crossroads. What would Jimi Hendrix be like as a 60 year old? We will never know because we will always remember him as a 27 year old with hope in his eyes. The whole “live fast, die young, and leave a beautiful memory” school of thought is a great idea when you are under 30. But once you get over 30 it’s more like “live in the middle lane, and if you die, people will remember your beer gut”, this isn’t half as appealing. For some people this landmark happens before 30, and for some it happens after 30. But 30 is always the socially accepted line in the sand. If it happens before then you may still wonder what could have been, and if it happens after then you have probably stayed at the party a bit too long and the teenagers have started throwing things at you. For me, I peaked 3 months too early and this is within my tolerance level, so really I am not too perturbed by this new chapter……as long as eventually I get a bit more sleep.

To finish up, we had a barbecue at the weekend where at various points we introduced the kids to a lot of our friends that hadn’t been able to see them so far, because of the risk of infection to Sophie. This has helped Claire and I get on with things. We feel as though the initial stage is now over and we can start to form a new normality to our lives.

First Weekend Away

This weekend was the big drive down to Southampton, the very first holiday for the kids. They will not recall much of the journey, however, because their eyes were closed for most of it. So along with a stop halfway to feed them, this went as well as could be expected. It was a good job that they did get some rest because, like Rick Waller at a Cannibal’s Conference, they were not left alone for the rest of the weekend.

The weather was beautiful (too beautiful to be honest as I was burnt on the back of my neck) and this made the weekend even better. The summers in Southampton are much better than the ones that we are now used to in Manchester. It was like we were on holiday somewhere tropical. My skin has been gradually taught to fear the sun by a process of water treatment and torchlight, and now it needs to be coaxed outside a bit more gently. I have become the human embodiment of a mushroom so I must remember this in the future.

Sunday was slightly surreal, as I happened to come across a morris-dancing competition in Estbury Gardens. The troops of dancers tend to fall in to two categories; 1) the strange types that take it very seriously, and 2) the strange types that look like they should be locked up. Although a funny English custom that should be celebrated on summer days, it now appears to have been completely monopolised by the village idiot that for the rest of the year surfs for porn. Dylan and Sophie will not be getting enrolled in any of these groups when they are older. I am sure that the incident at Waco, Texas was started by a load of Morris Dancers that gradually became believers that what they were doing was normal.

By the end of the weekend we managed to get round most of the family that we knew about, and I even managed to see some family that I didn’t know about. Everyone was excited to see Dylan and Sophie, and a general consensus is that “Sophie is small”, ”She is small though”, “Isn’t she smaller than her brother”, “I’ve never seen anyone that small”. I think for the time being we may just pretend that Sophie is actually Dylan’s toy, and he just likes playing with dolls. It will make a difference to answer questions on the doubted sexuality of Dylan, rather than the obvious size discussion.

All in all though it was really good, and I am glad that we have now been able to show them to some of the people that matter. We can now go back to Manchester and relax.

A Tribute

This is a tribute to a man that has taught me so much about how to live, and the principles that are ultimately important. Although I only knew him for the final third of his life, he will have an impact on me for the whole of mine.

My Granddad had a humble beginning in life fighting for what he needed along with his older brothers. He then went and fought for his country in World War 2; and when he returned he then started fighting for his family, working hard jobs to support them and seeing that his children were brought up in the right way. In the last ten years he has been fighting the battle within, constantly keeping his health in check. I guess that he just got tired of fighting in the end, but in my eyes he was the Heavyweight Champion of the World.

My earliest memories of him, being cuddly and a safe place to be, never really changed. I have always thought of him as a rock that would always be there, right behind me in everything that I do, and basically a safe place that I could retreat to.

He once taught me how to organise a pile of cards in to a neat pack by jiggling them on a table, he once showed me how to make the perfect omelette, he showed me how to use the only tools that I still know how to use. He showed me how to grow vegetables in the garden, but to be honest I’ve forgotten all of that now. I only used to do it to spend time with just him in the garden.

All of these things are just trivial memories that I have but will always trigger thoughts of him in my own mind. The real lessons that he has taught me are the unmentioned ones. Just by being who he was and prioritising the important things in life, and not getting distracted by the noise that just doesn’t matter at the end of the day, is the real testimony that he has left me with. To have a big heart, and to be able to show it to the people that are in it.

I will always remember him.

Love, always.