#flattenthecurve Episode 49 The Penultimate Episod

Don Bradman

Better statistical analysts than me* have plotted both the decline of Covid-19 cases in the UK and the reduced frequency of #flattenthecurve blog episodes** and have noticed a strong correlation between the two.

Now we all know that correlation does not mean causation, but at the very least it is a strong coincidence and if continuing the blog means an increased risk to public health, it's a risk I'm not willing to take.

And so, in a move that I know will likely cause some disappointment (possibly) I have to announce that today's episode is the penultimate one.

Critics may say this is nonesense and I've just grown bored with it over time, and while there may be an element of truth to this, the 'in pursuit of public health' thing sounds far more grand and noble so I'm sticking with it.

Reader: But why not make this one the final episode?
Me: Well I can't end it all so tantalisingly close to 50, it's like Donald Bradman knowing he could ending his career on a batting average of 100 but saying 'nah, 99 and a bit is good enough for me.'
Reader: Didn't Don Bradman fail, and fall just short of 100?
Me: Yes, but ...
Reader: So you're going to call this your penultimate episode but fail to deliver a final episode?
Me: No! I'm not going to miss the 50 and be judged on a narrow failure rather than extensive and long term international success.
Reader: Don Bradman was a failure?
Me: No no, I ... Ok, poor choice of analogy. Maybe ...maybe I just don't want it to end on an odd number?
Reader: Well why even bother with this one, cos the last one was number 48 and that's an even number
Me: ..... erm
Reader: ha!
Me: ....
Reader: and do you have grand plans for a final episode extravaganza?
Me: ... please stop
Reader: you don't, do you?
Me: ... (** swears under breath)
Reader: what was that?
Me: ... I said I'll try to think of something.
Reader: good, cos we've sat through 49 episodes of this nonesense and want something good to come of it!
Me: something has come of it, the curve has flattened!
Reader: and that's because of your blog?
Me: well ... no, not exactly
Reader: so pull your finger out!

* I'm not a statistical analyst. I couldn't be even if I wanted to be as I struggle to pronounce the word 'analyst', it always comes out with an extra 'al' sound, and while analalyst, to my mind, sounds much better, it would I feel be somewhat career hampering.
** Not really, artistic licence used for dramatic effect


Weather

It's been hot. Too hot.

I have neither the complexion nor the hairline nor the BMI for hot weather.

I do Iike the blue sky, the sun and the absence of a cold wind blowing in from the North sea, I just like to enjoy it from the comfort of a nice quiet shaded spot in the garden. And there are no nice quiet shaded spots in the garden, because all the nice shaded spots in the garden are within earshot of the kids. And the kids are never quiet.

Thinking about it, all of the garden, the house and most of the street is within earshot of the kids, so maybe a nice shaded spot that isn't quiet is all I can hope for?

Weather 2

I've slept really badly recently as the wife thought the best way to keep cool was to stomp around the bedroom at 1am complaining about how hot it was.

She then switched the fan on, wrapped herself up tightly in a thick duvet and snored her way through the rest of the night, but apparently I'm the unreasonable one for suggesting a thick duvet is not the best way of staying cool on a hot night.

And then the kids burst into our room, argued loudly between themselves about I have no idea what and then burst back out the room upset that we didn't want them bursting into the bedroom arguing. Kids. Pfft.


Weather 3

To make the most of the 'mini heatwave' (or nice spell of warm weather as all non-tabloid journalists call it) I've decided to take Friday off. The forecast for Friday is now thundery showers. Of course.

If anybody else had Friday booked off before me, I can only apologise.


Campervan

We tried the campervan out last weekend. We didn't camp in it, but we took it out, lost things in the cupboards, scratched the bumper on a rogue pebble (that nobody owned up to knowing anything about) and spent time trying to work out how the hell the electrics work (you flick a variety of switches until you get lucky and land on the right combination), where the rattling was coming from (the fire extinguisher) and how to make sure the fridge door stays shut when you go round corners (you wedge it shut with the small bit of kebab stick left especially by the previous owners).

It's been great fun so far, and exactly how we imagined it!

The van is however much quieter than the one we hired years ago and so I can still hear the kids squabbling, bickering and generally causing an annoyance in the back, so I feel a little let down in that respect, but overall things are looking good.


School

Henry found out who his new form teacher for Year 7 is going to be. They stick with the same form teacher all the way through secondary school, 5 years with Henry will be ... character building. Good luck Miss Curry.

Henry is excited to meet her, mainly because I've told him I know her naan. Nobody gets detention on their first day, right?

#flattenthecurve Episode 48

The End of an Era: Thoughts on Change and Love

When routine bites hard
And ambitions are low
And resentment rides high
But emotions won't grow
And we're changing our ways
Taking different roads
Love, love will tear us apart again
Love, love will tear us apart again
(Love Will Tear Us Apart, Joy Division)

Change. While some embrace it, the word, it's implications, the memories and feelings it stirs and the threat to routine that it promises strikes fear into the hearts of many others.

Love. Can it be defined in a way that is universally accepted? Where would we be without it, but equally can the pain it can cause us be equalled in life?

Both words have been the subject of debate, the cause of conflict, and the inspiration for art and music throughout history.

Julie Andrews is widely quoted as saying "All love shifts and changes. I don’t know if you can be wholeheartedly in love all the time"

Echo and the Bunnymen told us "Nothing ever lasts forever; Nothing ever lasts for-e-ver-er"

Further still, a well known proverb says that, 'All good things must come to an end'.

All sombre, thought provoking, and ultimately correct. And after what feels like a lifetime, change is upon me also. I have come to the end of one journey, am questioning whether the love remains and have decided a separation is required.

It was a unilateral decision, a choice I felt I had to make. It's come as a shock to the wife, and the kids were initially surprised too. They've taken it well though, Henry was a little disappointed to begin with but then he's older and has shared some of the happier memories.

While it has been my decision, and I've been unhappy for a while, it hasn't been easy and it will feel strange when, as always happens, the world moves on and somebody new takes my place. I'll just have to live with that though.

Hopefully the split will be as painless as possible. I've had a chance to get used to the separation before announcing it as, since lockdown in March, we have remained close yet become ever more distant.

Thankfully the financial implications are already resolved, which is so often the trickiest area to come to an agreement on in situations like this.

So yeah, I'm free, looking to move on, and I'm open to offers and suggestions: what else can I do at 3pm on a Saturday, probably with one or more kids and the wife in tow, now that I'm not going to renew my season ticket?


Moving On

Another famous proverb says that when one door closes, another opens. On this occasion there are 5 new doors, one of them slides, and they all open into (and out of) our brand spanking new (well, 15 year old) campervan.

Yeah, really - a campervan! Fret not, we had a week in a yurt last year so of course we are now expert campers. I wrote a similar blog to this one on the yurt trip last summer, I might share it some time. Lucky you!

Anyway, camping and campervans: we've done loads of research (the wife has joined several online VW campervan and camping forums, asked questions and spoken to lots of people for recommendations, advice and guidance, while I've watched Carry on Camping a couple of times) and I am mechanically minded (I know how to refuel a van, inflate the tyres and fill the windscreen washer bottle, what more could I need to know?) so I really can't foresee any problems.

The original intention had been to do a big tour of Europe with the kids this summer. Damn you Covid-19! Scotland still counts as Europe, yeah?


Green Fingers

More exciting news from Chez Victory, our earlier gardening endeavours are starting to bear fruit with about a million little seedlings emerging from the small plot of land to the side of our house that has been transformed from building site tip to finely raked topsoil to neighbourhood cat toilet to cradle of new life in just a few short weeks.

My initial excitement at the emergence of the first seedling quickly turned to surprise when seemingly overnight the whole area turned green with little plants pushing their way through to daylight and into an immediate scrap for the natural resources needed for life. The number was overwhelming, and it turns out we've used about ten times more seeds than we need. Oops.

I'm not sure who to blame this one on, it's either my gardening expert sister in law who has overseen the landscaping, planting and upkeep of countless gardens without a problem, and who advised the wife on what we should do, or my city living, nature hating wife who employed the 'nah, it'll be fine - I can always buy some more' approach to me asking if I should really be chucking seeds about with such abandon. I'll let you all form your own view here.

I'm a little concerned that the humongous mass of biodiversity now streaming forth from our little patch of mud will cross breed, cross pollinate, cross fertilize and eventually form a new terrifying superbreed of weed that will terrorise the street, nay the neighbourhood, nay the world?

Maybe, maybe not. I'll keep an eye on things and do some seedling thinning out if needs be.


Body Part Designs

I left you last time with a promise to investigate strange body part designs, and I know some of you will be keen to hear of developments in this new area of activity.

Well, research is going well, but the internet has a eye boggling, mind blowing wealth of material to get through, so I am not ready to report back just yet. It's keeping me busy though.

#flattenthecurve Episode 47

While there are so many important things happening in the world it seems rather pointless and stupid to send out my rather pointless and stupid blog. I'm still going to share it, I just thought I should explain that I'm not thoughtless or immune to global events, just here isn't the place to talk about them.

If you do prefer more stimulating intellectual and political debate, I suggest you head over to my new blog where I talk in depth about a range current affairs. It's available here:

www.goodluckwiththatitdoesntexist.co.uk

For those of you sticking around here for more of what you know, let us commence!


The Cut of Their Jib

Some people go on body language, others take a person on what they say while still others believe that actions speak louder than words.

Some people swear by personal appearance, the strength of a person's handshake, their political persuasions, their charitable work ... the list goes on.

As for me? Well I believe you can tell a lot about a person by the way they eat a potato waffle.

Seriously, if you can't eat a waffle by cutting it neatly into squares and rectangles along the bars of potatoey goodness, then there is something not quite right.

I put this to the test at home and, sadly, I'm going to have to let two people go. The wife and Henry have proven themselves to be untrustworthy and scatterbrained to the point of chaos. Eva and I looked on aghast as they thoughtlessly cut all sorts of angles and shapes out of their waffles and even, on a couple of occasions, cut through more than one at the same time.

I know, I was shocked too. They seem such reasonable people usually. You think you know people, then they let you down when you need them most. Sad times.


Home Schooling

I've not mentioned homeschooling much recently, so thought an update was due. You'll be pleased to know we've been working the kids hard, but just for a few hours a day, we aren't tyrants or anything.

Eva has made some amazing progress, she works independently, has a desire to learn and takes a keen interest in everything around her.

She does still come out with some absolute mind-numbing stupidity from time to time though. My two recent favourites have been:

"Henry, did mam and dad call you Henry when you were born?"

And

"Mam, if babies are born without hair, how can you tell if they are a boy or a girl?"

Henry, meanwhile, has shown some real, albeit slower, progress. He is up to level 140 on Fortnite and has learned to open his ice lolly wrapper at the stick end instead of the lolly end. He nearly remembered to read all of his maths questions properly one day this week too. Small steps, hey.

He also comes out with some quite unbelievable comments, and is of a giggly persuasion too, so when he recently fell apart in fits of laughter as we were having tea we waited with baited breath for what words of wisdom he was about to bestow upon us.

On eventually calming down he was able to explain that he'd just realised that the Fortnite XP ('Extra Points') coin in the bathroom window of the house behind us was actually the back of a mirror. He'd never wondered why they had a Fortnite XP coin in the window, he'd just taken it for granted that that's what it was. Ah well, at least he can laugh at himself. I suspect it's a skill that will come in handy.


Dreams

My weird dreams have been continuing. Most aren't fit for a family based blog, but last night's meets the acceptable dream sharing standard, so here goes.

The dream that I dreamed ... dreamt? hmmm, not sure the correct past tense there - a bit like dived/dove, that one always trips me up too. Anyway, back to the dream, the dream was about a violent miniature horse. We lived on a farm, and the horse lived in a field with a small polar bear. They both kept escaping, the horse would slither under small gaps in the fence while the bear would sort of blunder his way around, and the horse would go round headbutting people and kicking up a fuss.

The bear always seemed quite morose about the escaping, a little disappointed that the horse was upstaging him but equally lacking in desire to cause problems for anybody.

I wondered whether the horse and bear were metaphors for any people I know, but I couldn't think who.

Anyway, Eva woke me from my dream bawling her eyes out and being melodramatic about some minor slight or other, managing to knee me in the lets-not-go-theres while Henry lurked around in the background looking shifty and grumbling.

Nope, still not worked out what the horse/bear dream was all about.


DIY

I present this conversation verbatim (ish) - no comment, I believe, is required on my behalf.

Henry: Dad, what you doing?
Me: I'm fitting a hand towel holder thing for the hand towel
Henry: (**looks at the hand towel sat quite happily on the radiator) Why?
Me: because your Mam wants it here
Henry: (**looks at the hand towel sat quite happily on the radiator again, then looks at me perplexed) but ... (**points at the hand towel sat quite happily on the radiator)
Me: I know Henry, but your Mam wants this hand towel holder thing so we don't ... so we can ...
Henry: You don't have to do everything Mam asks you know
Me: (** looks blankly at Henry)
Henry: Yeah ... I'm going upstairs now


DIY Again

You can tell you are an accomplished DIYer when you have your own special DIY pencil. I have my own DIY pencil.

It is slightly larger in girth than a standard pencil, making it slightly too large for a pencil sharpener, but otherwise operates like a normal pencil.

I think the extra girth has two functions:

(i) us manly DIYers have manly muscly hands, so like a more substantial pencil to hold on to; and

(ii) you have to sharpen them with a Stanley knife, which is even more manly and DIYish.

I was explaining the mystique behind the manly extra girth DIY pencil when The Wife pointed out it was a training pencil for reception kids who can't grip normal pencils properly, and she has a large pencil sharpener made just for sharpening large pencils.

I still like my manly special DIY pencil.


DIY Again Again

The second worst bit about DIY jobs is starting them. The third worst bit is finishing them properly. I'm writing this while I should be starting the latest job, so I'm going to be in trouble if I don't start soon.

And the worst bit? The worst bit about DIY jobs is when the wife says "oh, I don't know, you decide" and leaves you to work out where the stupid flamin' hand towel holder should go when you don't think you need one in the first place.

Hurrumph.


In Other News

On Friday I bit my tongue, and I bit it so hard that it bled. I didn't deliberately bite it like, that would just be weird.

It did make me realise just how dangerous eating can be, with rows of hardened chunks of sharp enamel sitting in such close proximity to the soft muscular organ that is the tongue.

Crazy.

I'll ruminate for a while on other strange body part designs and feed back to you next week. There's a couple I have on my mind already, but I'll not spoil the surprise for you.

I'm away to load up Google now to do some research, my account is used across several family devices so I'll make sure I use the 'incognito mode' to protect the innocent. And the kids.