The fall


Does it matter which time that I write. Its just when I can, is that ok? All rules need to be broken. There is continuity and there is order. I am just doing my best. Thats the best I can do.

Its dry blue skies, fluffy clouds but cold.

Last night was busy. All nights are busy. Its the time in-between that is calm.


Naoise played wild in the willow scrub with his friends. Sydney got annoyed because I wasn’t at home for him when he returned from school.

I took my time, let my little one play. It was sunny and it was good to be in the company of friends. We joke about setting up a bench near where the children play, a log would do, a picnic hamper, gin and tonic would be even better. We stand and talk and talk. The children play and play. They make pretend weapons out of sticks and crushed tin cans. They make shields out of wooden pallets. Stones have magical powers. The mud bank gets muddier and slip-ier. The willow saplings cling and break the childrens falls.

Eventually I get home and Naoise has an accident and falls onto his knee. He likes to throw himself at you. He threw himself at Syd from the staircase, but Syd did not catch his fall.

Naoise is wailing and I am panic stricken. I bundle him up in a red blanket, give him paracetamol. I am heart broken, he is pale. I am too scared to look at his knee. I get Syd to get the help of a neighbour, I am an absolute wimp in the face of an accident, especially when its my own children. I hate to see pain and hurt.

Eventually I pluck up courage to have a look, the knee looks swollen and Naoise says he cannot move or stand on it. I place him in the car and take him to A&E in Halifax, a 24 mile round trip in the rush hour. We arrive at Halifax A&E via a shop stop to fuel up on sandwiches and crisps. I buy an overpriced parking ticket from the machine. I return to the car and Naoise is standing up and smiling and telling me that his knee has completely recovered. He apologises. I am just relieved that he is ok. I actually quite enjoyed the car journey, talking to him, listening to the radio. We return to Todmorden.

Back home I leave with Syd to take part in a political debate at the Town Hall. Its really great. I am so glad that Syd is with me, he has strong views and opinions, best to do something positive and constructive with them. I believe in encouraging strength of voice. There are representatives of all the standing parties including Joe Stead the singing politician whose slogan is World Peace Through Song. I am so proud when Syd stands up to ask a question about welfare. He asks for the conservative representative Craig Whitaker to explain why his party chose to introduce the Bed Room Tax, he answers by saying that it was the Labour Government that introduced it. Seems like all the Torys want to do is blame the previous government for all of their mean actions. Very misleading. He is cold, well tanned, head down taking notes slick jacket and professional. He moves through the questions with ease. He has one man fan who is built like a shire horse and claps loudly at the end of everything he says, there maybe other Tory supporters but if there are, they are keeping very quiet indeed.

Need to end this writing. Have to buy food for the children’s tea, collect Naoise. Patrick gets home late now what used to be an 8 hour shift managing the children and the home is now a a 12 hour shift as he travels too and from the city.  Today will be even later as he is going smart shirt and trouser shopping.

Its been a long week. I will get better organised at managing the longer days.


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