write.as/jonbeckett

You find me sitting in the study at home with a cup of coffee between my arms while I write this post. The only sound in the room is the clickety-clack of the keyboard.

After a week spent at home recovering from COVID, we walked into town late last night to meet my middle daughter – the one that works at the pub. We had only planned on walking there an back – providing an escort of sorts to shepherd her past the numerous bars and restaurants that empty onto the streets late at night. Upon our arrival the bar staff greeted us with smiles and waves, and offered us a dink 'on the house'. I can't imagine how annoyed the man next to us at the bar must have been.

It probably says something about me that the moment I am offered something for free, I immediately worry how fair that is for others. I don't like being given preferential treatment.

I had one drink – and this morning I know about it. I guess this is another observation to chalk-up against COVID – that the headache I might have had following several drinks now appears after one drink – or at least until my body gets a chance to recover properly.

I'm trying to stop myself from doing things today. A quiet day. Hopefully.

I can't let today pass without mentioning an influx of new readers. Quite by chance this week I crossed paths with somebody teaching English as a foreign language, and they recommended my writing to their students. If any of you are reading this – I hope you are both understanding, and enjoying it. I can't always guarantee I'll have exciting or interesting content to write about, but knowing there's an audience out there interested in a different way of life will remind me to record my 'normal' – because it almost certainly isn't theirs.

If there is anything you would like me to write about – perhaps about life in England – just send me a message. My contact details are on the 'about' page.

Anyway.

It's time for me to go make a hot drink, sit down, and try to allow my body to recover a little. Wish me luck!

It's Friday morning – or at least I think it's still Friday morning – and I'm taking a break from work for a few minutes. I'm actually thinking about abandoning work for the rest of the day – COVID seems to be taking a second bite out of me. It might be better to admit defeat, have a quiet weekend, and give my body a chance to repair itself.

I need to get some more Redbush tea – I went through almost an entire box of it earlier in the week.

Maybe a quiet book today. Or sleep. We'll see.

It's day five since the symptoms of COVID arrived like a car crash, and I'm back working. My brain is been in a bit of a fog for most of the day, but to be honest having something to get on with has been really good.

You know when you sit in the dead of night, and can hear the blood pumping through your ears? I have that sensation, but all the time. I can only imagine it's my body's way of saying 'I'm working really hard here – just give me a few days'.

Main lesson of the last few days? Redbush tea with honey in it was the only thing I felt like drinking. I've found that for the last few years, when ill. Thankfully I'm rarely sick – but when I am, I can't stomach coffee. Go figure.

I'm back drinking coffee today.

I wonder how much of the day one headache was caffeine withdrawal, and how much was COVID going on a wrecking-spree around my head?

Anyway.

Today has been a good day (so far). Let's see how the evening goes.

Based on the very unscientific method of counting back to when the aches and temperature first appeared, this is day four of COVID, and my body appears to be staging a remarkable fightback. As long as I sit quietly, the aches and pains appear to be leaving me alone. As soon as I try and do anything, my body starts overheating.

We'll try to ignore that after everybody left the house this morning I snuck down to make a cup of tea and discovered similar devastation to yesterday. At least it only took me three quarters of an hour to clear up today.

The washing machine is on it's second load so far. The dishwasher has been emptied and re-filled again (don't even ask), and the leftover food that had caused a cloud of flies to arrive has been dealt with. Of course now nobody can use the kitchen for a while – until the fly spray dissipates (the windows and door are wide open).

I was hoping to return to work tomorrow, based on feeling quite a bit better last night, but now I'm not so sure. My head is ringing. I'm not sure what causes that – blood pressure probably.

We went out for dinner last week to celebrate the end of college for my eldest daughter. She seemed a bit under the weather, but soldiered on – then over the weekend I spent a lot of time with my eldest daughter, watching Stranger Things. Somewhere in the middle of that, the pair of us caught COVID.

The rest of the family seem to be ok.

I find it interesting that everybody's experience of COVID is different. I have aches, chills, a high temperature, a headache, and a cough – although the cough was the last symptom to appear. I'm probably on about day 4, as far as we are aware – although full-on effects only showed up on Saturday.

We suspected either flu, or tonsillitis too – but following a visit to the doctor first thing this morning, my eldest was confirmed with COVID – so no need for me to wonder any more.

The first thing I did was inform work. I'm now figuring out how best to hide myself away from the rest of the family for the week.

Now I just fear what will happen to the house. After getting up this morning I spent an hour clearing the kitchen up before learning what was wrong with me, during which time I had pulled a load of glassware out of the dishwasher that would have been destroyed by it.

I put a load of washing in the machine too. Somehow the kids think dumping dirty clothes in the bathroom is the same as washing them.

We won'''t mention that I also emptied the kitchen bin, which was overflowing onto the floor, and the gap alongside it, which apparently had an invisible 'cardboard recycling centre' sign above it. Oh – and then there was the three trips outside with recycling, because there's another invisible sign next to the kitchen sink.

If I sound pissed off, it's because I am.

My middle daughter officially finished college yesterday.

She's not going to university, so is heading off into the world. While she has her mind set on a career in the police, we're trying to slow her down a bit – encouraging her to take a year out, go work some different jobs, and live a little first. Get some life experience.

We were talking to a good friend who works for the metropolitan police in London recently, and she remarked that it's not a race – and that the younger officers coming through could really do with more life experience before they arrive.

I guess we'll wait and see what happens.

Last night we went out for a meal together – to celebrate the end of college – and afterwards wandered through the big park in the middle of town together. All five of us.

Quite often our eldest daughter doesn't come out, but we talked her into it. She suffers a lot with anxiety, but has been having good days recently. Long may it continue – she's a wonderful person, but nobody really knows she exists. I had hoped in the past that the internet might provide an avenue for her to make friends, but she's as reclusive if not even more so online than in the real world.

It's difficult.

Today I am up to my ears in work – as per usual – and trying to keep on top of chores around the house at the same time. I'm only too aware that I haven't said hello to any friends on the internet in quite some time. I need to fix that.

In recent months I have often found myself writing blog posts in the dead of night. Perhaps it's a reflection on the number of things I'm trying to juggle at once.

The weekend has been quiet. Sometimes quiet is good.

We watched some more of the movie 'Dune' last night. It says something that when we eventually finish watching it, it will have taken three attempts – three sessions to make it through a long movie. That's just how chaotic our life is right now.

Last night I made it through the middle hour of the movie before walking into town at midnight to accompany my daughter home from work (she works at a pub).

She's applying to join the police this year, but we're quietly wondering if we should encourage her to experience a little of the world first. She's very young, and while the police will be lucky to get her one day, we can't help feeling she needs some more life experience first. She's wanted to join the police since she was young.

Maybe she'll be fine. Maybe we're being over-protective. I guess we'll find out.

She went out on her first 'big night out' as a person 'of age' this weekend. The manager of the bar where she works celebrated her birthday, so the entire bar staff went out to a club after closing time to help her celebrate. I stayed up 'just in case'.

She got home at 4:30am. In one piece.

The remarkable thing? She had three hours sleep, then got up, and went back out to work at 9am to serve breakfasts in the pub. She then worked the evening shift through to closing time again.

I remember being able to do things like that when I was 18. I can't any more. Just staying up the other night flattened me the next day. That curious sensation where your body overheats all day because you've screwed with it's internal clock.

Anyway.

Our focus turns to our youngest daughter this week. As college winds down, several of her closest friends have gone their own way – on to different schools, or off to the world of work. She's been very quiet – we both suspect a form of grieving is going on. Yes, they're still keeping in touch via the wonders of social media, but they're no longer at each other's hip throughout the week, and never will be again.

I remember my parents telling me that my co-workers would become my world when I left college, and I didn't believe them. They were right though.

And then once you have children, the parents of your children's friends become your circle – and then the other parents in their school years. It's funny how that happens. You also notice that friends without children form entirely different social circles.

We all find our own route, one way or another. The trick is letting your children find their own way without being too visible in the background, waiting to pick them up and dust them down.

I remember the first time my eldest daughter drank too much. As I walked home with her – helping to hold her up, she remarked 'you're always there when we need you most – how do you do that?' – I replied 'we're your parents. It's our job''

After work yesterday evening I pulled on my running shoes and went for a run around town. It seemed like a good idea at the time – but I had completely forgotten that the junk room / study where I sit for most of the day is on the cold side of the house. I knew I had made a mistake minutes into the run, when the air might well have been made from treacle.

Let's just say it's a bit humid at the moment. And hot. While running, I started to wonder if my body might complain about what I was putting it through – and could feel my chest tightening after a few minutes. After perhaps 10 minutes running, I gave in and walked for a while.

It's perhaps no surprise that as I started to struggle, an ambulance and a fast response car passed me. My suspicions of starring in my own version of The Truman Show are as large as ever.

Later in the evening we trooped off down to the pub to meet friends for a pub quiz. Getting to the pub in time for the quiz was something of a challenge (for all of us), but once there we managed to forget about everything for a while and just have fun.

When it got to the 'scoring the rounds' part of the quiz, we became aware of a very, very serious table with two men sat at it. Every quiz has one of those tables doesn't it. Men of a certain age, obviously single, no sense of humour, and this is probably their entire world. Think Benedict Cumberbatch in Starter for Ten.

We weren't really there for the quiz – it was an excuse. We were there to spend time with friends. Late in the evening – after returning home – I messaged the group chat that had resulted in the night out – and remarked how lucky we are to have such good friends.

There's an old saying, isn't there – about being so busy you forget to live. I'm often guilty of that.

Since stepping back from posting 'every other day' to the blog, I've discovered a paradox of sorts. While I thought having a few days between posts might conjure stories worth telling, the reality is that by the time I sit down to write anything, I've forgotten the stories worth telling.

Norah Ephron was right about recording the exhales. If I don't record my thoughts on the same day they happen, then get over-written by the rest of the mayhem that generally surrounds me.

Anyway.

What have I been up to? Working. And then working some more. I'm learning the ropes with a number of new (to me) programming languages, platforms, and technologies – and it's kind of been all-consuming. It's not a purely academic exercise either – it's a somewhat important commercial project. Unfortunately I can't share any more than that.

There have been several days in the past few weeks when I've forgotten to stop for lunch – which doesn't do my body much good at all. While talking to a friend across the way that often walks her dog, I suggested she might knock on the window and encourage me to join her – if only for a few minutes. We somehow have to engineer it so she appears in the window while I'm on a conference call – just to get my co-workers talking.

We finished watching Obi-Wan Kenobi this evening. I liked it. We're also half-way through watching Dune (the new version – not the old one with Sting in). We need to set aside an entire evening to watch the rest of it – it's a LONG film, but what we've seen so far has been wonderful. I've also promised to watch 'Orphan Black', so the earlier mentioned friend has somebody to talk to about it. It's funny how television and movies become such a connection between people, isn't it.

I'll try and post a bit more often to the blog in the coming weeks. The more mundane stuff – like this post. I've kind of missed emptying my head. Finding the time to do so will always be the challenge – I'm writing this at nearly 1am.

It's “Father's Day” in the UK today. I have mixed feelings about it – knowing that it was invented in the US along with “Mother's Day” in the early 1900s (Mother's Day pre-dates Father's Day by a couple of years, if you are at all interested). They were both instigated by social activists.

I kind of rationalise it in the same way you might rationalise Christmas, or Easter – it's as good excuse as any to be nice, no matter your beliefs, culture, or whatever else. We'll also try to forget that people should be nice to each other all year round, too.

Given the accelerated and demanding nature of the modern world, it seems easy to drown in our own concerns, and ignore the concerns of others. It takes very little effort to show an interest – to lend an ear, a shoulder, a hand, or some time – and yet I'm continually surprised by the self absorbed, pious, sanctimonious and judgemental attitude so many seem to exhibit.

People become lost in their own importance, their own opinions, and presume their views are the only valid ones – and don't mind telling anybody that might listen. For many, “but the majority agree with me” becomes a primary defence when challenged.

It doesn't help that social media and the algorithmic timeline convince so many that they are in the majority, when the machinery of the internet is surrounding people with concordant views and opinions, no matter how true, false, misguided, hateful or objectionable they might be.

In recent weeks and months I've been reminded again and again of a cartoon I saw – of somebody hunched over a laptop in the dark, telling their other half “I'll be up in a bit – I just need to explain to these people why they are wrong”.

Anyway.

All seems to be quiet on the western front. I imagine a voice will shout “Dinner!” soon.

Happy Father's Day.