Away with the Fairies

Well it has been a long time hasn't it. The last time this blog was updated seems to pre-date the dinosaurs and the birth of the fairies that now surround us. The noise of their wings flicking, and that irritating ethereal light that intermittently is captured in your peripheral vision. I remember a time when this wasn't the norm. I remember when we once dreamt of fairies but never believed in them. Innocent days, when there was no fear, and only wonderment. Now we have all changed. The fairies have taken over, and their killing is out of control. The phrase was that every time someone sneezed a fairies wings were broken, little did we all know that this was being saved up to fuel a wrath that could never be defended. We had no chance. Now we are living in our holes in the earth, created from fireball explosions, and we live off the worms. The fairies will sustain, we will perish. This is the way it must be.

Anyway, I've got loads of things to cover in this blog, so that's the last you'll hear of fairies. The blighters.

Obviously, the summer months have been incredibly busy for us, like most people I'm sure. I'm not supposing that we have a special life to the norm, but they don't write about theirs. We have been to the Isle of Wight, which will not be the last you hear of that I am sure, and I took part in the Great North Swim. I have been to a stag do, and the corresponding wedding, and Southampton have been bought and the journey continues.

Each of these have many sub-sections that will be embellished eventually, and also some hilarious anecdotes that I am sure you will not be surprised about. These situations crop up and this is the beauty of life to me. To keep moving on through the journey, not standing still, and taking everything out of every moment, and when a funny or surprising thing happens, make the most of it because you never know when you'll laugh next. This is what it's all about. It's not about where you are or what you have, although these factors make up the journey itself, but the treasuring of the real beauty that comes from within everybody and occasionally shines.

The Isle of Wight was amazing. The weather was okay, hot some days and cloudy on others, but the atmosphere and the rhythm have captured my inspiration. The way of life appears more relaxed, the space is refreshing, and of course there are the beaches. We were looking for ideas to move from where we are, to continue the journey, and this has ticked so many boxes. It is close to our families, without being on the doorstep, close to the coast (not close to anything else), safe and secure for children to grow up, a better climate, a hospital on the island and consultants in Southampton, a boat ride away from the mighty Red Army (season ticket here we come), close enough to grandparents for everything, and plenty of potential to get a job and other streams of income that will be more possible around tourism. Win, win, win, win, win, win. So, watch out for this blog one day moving location.

The Great North Swim was fantastic. A real sense of achievement, and I am really glad that I did it. The sense of achievement doesn't come from the actual swim (34 mins though, which I would have taken at the beginning), but from the amount of money that I raised. The total now is at a staggering 4,000 pounds, and this could potentially be doubled by Astrazeneca to which I will find out next month. It is a great feeling that personally I am responsible for making this much money that will certainly make a difference, it has really spurred me on to do something every year no matter how humble or grand. As the ancient Chinese say, 'He who gives roses, on his hands remains the scent.' Although when they say it sounds more like, 'ting wen hui pong, jung wen linj gui.'

The stag do was really good, although I probably killed off a few more brain cells, and I have been seeing these blinking fairies ever since. A weekend in sleepy Swanage. It doesn't sound like much but we made the most of it. I won't recount many stories as I can't remember them now, but we definitely went to, apparently, the fourth best pub in England. The Square and Compass. It was nice, set in the middle of nowhere on the top of the cliffs of the Jurassic Coastline, and serving organic Scrumpy. Now, we were there for six hours approximately, and by the end of it I don't really remember my name or the fact that I had legs that worked. The stuff looked like diesel and probably tasted like diesel, if I had ever tasted diesel to compare. But I survived to tell the tale, even though six of the party did in fact die. Oh well, good weekend weighing it all up.

The wedding was not quite as successful. Claire had to go to the hospital with Sophie for a water infection just as were supposed to be leaving for the ceremony. So I made my way there on my own, checked in to the hotel that Claire and I were to stay at, and went to the ceremony. After this there was good news as Claire text to say that she would be arriving soon, and could I meet her at the hotel. We then both turned up, a bit late, for the meal, which was very nice, with a group of people that we didn't know on our table. During the speeches I had a phone call to say that Soph was having a fit and that an ambulance was called. Claire and I left stage left and hailed a taxi that took us from Lymington to Southampton, fifty quid. I then made it back to the wedding at 12:30am, as everyone was leaving, and then walked back to the hotel on my own. Claire was in the hospital overnight with Sophie. What a disaster. But this is just part of the journey, and there will always be traffic jams on a journey.

Finally, Saints have been bought, we are now minted, we have a proper manager and players are coming in that we've heard of. It is all looking rosy at St. Marys, and we are gradually climbing up the league. At last, happy days.

So, there we are, a whistle stop tour of the summer, and I promise that I won't leave it this long in the future.