Dealing with life can be depressing…

25 11 2014

I recently found out that one of my cousins has been battling depression for some time.

It was quite shocking, it wasn’t something I’d have ever have thought to associate with him.

But then that’s half the problem.

People disguise it well with quite often horrendous results.

Did you know that suicide is the biggest killer of men under 35 in the UK?

As my cousin said in an email to the family, this needs to stop.

So Tim has quit his job to deliver a message in a play to the UK and Australia called “Fake it til you make it.”

A new theatrical collaboration between Bryony Kimmings and her partner Tim Grayburn about clinical depression, love and “being a man.”

And you can help.

Firstly simply watch the video and read about it.

Clicky.

You never know how it might benefit you or others around you.

Secondly you can make a pledge towards the play through Kickstarter.

Clicky.

It could be £1 or £1,000, no donation is too small.

Tim, Bryony, I wish you all the luck in the world.

Tim

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Best. Day. Ever….

12 11 2014

Like most young boys, Joshie loves trucks.

Oh and tractors.

And trains.

You get the idea.

So imagine his delight when he got up in the morning to see this:

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8:01am

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4.38pm

The road outside our house is being ripped up and re-laid.

I half expected to return home and still see him watching the activity through the window.

One very happy little boy.

Who needs Santa?





Tickle Treat…

7 11 2014

Last year, Joshie didn’t really understand Halloween.

Not many one year olds would..

But we dressed him up none the less.

This year was no different.

Except this time he understood it a fraction more.

I took him to Willows Farm where they were giving away pumpkins for free.

We stood in a field littered with orange globes of all shapes and sizes and I told him to take his pick.

 

At first he was not fussed, but the deeper we got into the field the more he got involved.

“This one?”

“No Joshie, it’s only half a pumpkin.”

“This one Daddy?”

“No Joshie, as you can now see by all the pumpkin juice that fallen onto my shoe, it’s a broken pumpkin.”

Then he lost interest.

So we continued until we (I) found a suitable one.

Bovered?

Bovered?

Then Joshie went off and stole another one anyway.

A few days later, Wifey set to the task of carving it with Joshie.

But he lost interest.

Can you what it is?

Can you see what it is?

Wifey set to dressing up the little man ready for some Trick or Treating on our street.

And this is where he suddenly gained an interest when he realised what he could get.

Houses that were participating had a pumpkin outside so the kids took it in turns to find out what their treat was.

Joshie’s turn.

“TI-CKLE TREAT!”

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Well he kind of got it right, because all the Mums seemed to love the expression and showered him in kiddie rocket fuel.

Sweets.

Lots of them.

His little Frankenstein’s Monster bucket runneth over.

Which obviously meant more for Daddy.

Later, I asked Wifey if she would like a Tickle Treat, but that’s another story.