Friday, 22 August 2014

Enrolled

K and I are just back from her new school, where she's now safely enrolled, despite a last minute panic (mostly from me, I have to admit!) about the validity of one piece of her paperwork. The school were happy with it, though, which is all, ultimately, that matters, so the next time my girl walks into the school, on September 4, it will be as an A-Level student. One nice thing, from K's perspective, is that because the school is virtually brand-new - it's only been open for a year - everyone in her year, Year 12, will be new to the school, there having been no Year 11 last year, although, doubtless, some of the students will know each other from their previous schools, so she won't be faced with being 'the new girl' amidst an established community. K is really looking forward to starting there, and that definitely makes all the upheaval and expense of the past few months more than worthwhile. A new chapter, without a doubt.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

Thursday, 21 August 2014

Results day

K's recently rung me, having gone into her old school at 9:00 this morning to pick up her GCSE results. She's achieved at least a C grade, the lowest mark considered as a 'pass', in all the subjects she took, albeit that one or two of the grades were a notch lower than were predicted for her, ending up with 3 A's, 3 B's and 6 C's. One of the A's was in English Literature, though, the only one of her GCSE subjects she's intending to take at A-Level, so that was good, and her Maths grade, which was part of her minimum requirement for her new school, was a B, so she's qualified for the new place more than twice over - they only wanted five passes, as long as Maths and English were amongst them. I'm pleased for her, and more than a little relieved, too - it would have been the ultimate frustration if, after jumping through all the hoops we have to give her the chance of going to the school she wanted for her A-Levels, she'd fallen short at the eleventh hour. I never seriously believed that she wouldn't make it, the only real concern being the fact that she's inherited her father's academic work ethic - or complete lack of it! So, it's off to enrolment day tomorrow with all the requisite pieces of paper!

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

Wednesday, 20 August 2014

A star of the future?

On my way to work last night, I had what might turn out to be an interesting encounter. Superficially, it was a typical 'ghost' moment, a cute boy, 13-ish, sitting diagonally opposite me on the train to 'worktown' with (presumably) his mother. They'd got on at the same station as me, and I was pleased, having seen him on the platform, that the boy sat where I could 'enjoy the view'. The other thing that was immediately obvious about him, though, apart from his cuteness, was that he was undoubtedly a tennis player - he was carrying a very large tennis bag, almost as big as I've seen professionals using on TV, and, as I could hear bits of the conversation between the boy and his mother, it became apparent that he plays to a pretty high standard, some of the talk being of seedings and the semi-finals and finals of tournaments, albeit no doubt junior stuff at his age. Andy Murray's successor? Who knows, but it would certainly be something if he turns up on the BBC's coverage of Wimbledon in a few years time.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

Tuesday, 19 August 2014

Lies, damned lies, and....

....the Metro. The headline story in this morning's issue of London's main free daily paper screamed 'Paedophile 'child expert' at the Home Office'. Today's big breaking news, obviously? Well, not exactly. In fact, not at all. The story referred to a person who wrote reports on reform of childcare in the 1970s and 1980s, who has been dead for seven years, and whose only conviction, or, at least, the only one mentioned in the report, was a fine for possession of 'child pornography' - in itself a catchall phrase that seems to be able to include any picture of a child at all, including fully clothed pictures of related children, if it suits the authorities' purposes for use as 'circumstantial evidence' - in 1992. The story, if it deserves to be dignified by that word at all, is another 'historical sex abuse' allegation, against someone who is conveniently dead and can't defend themselves, dressed up as though the world's most despised underclass have infiltrated government circles right now. A nice, easy, free kick at the softest of soft targets once more, to distract attention from the failings and inadequacies of the paper's political bedfellows. Because the Metro is published by the same shower of reactionary, fascistic liars that publishes the Daily Mail. That says all you need to know, as far as I'm concerned.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

Monday, 18 August 2014

A la recherche du temps perdu

Not Proust's most famous novel, but what, I've worked out, I've been doing in regard to my relationship with K. Trying to find a way of making up for all the time that's been lost while she's been growing up. But there is no way of doing that, by definition, really. Lost is lost, for always. We talked last night, but it didn't achieve anything, in reality, apart from upsetting us both, me because I felt guilty at my disappointment over things that are in no way K's fault, K because she felt guilty at disappointing me, even though, actually, she hasn't, as I tried to explain to her. As happens, has happened, so often in what might be described as my 'emotional life', I'm apparently looking for something that simply isn't available. So all that's left is the utilitarian, providing what K needs, materially, in the last phases of her education and road to full adulthood. Then, it will really all be over. And time to go.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

Sunday, 17 August 2014

I see a pattern emerging

I went into work this morning, to do an overtime shift - money for old rope, if I'm being honest, even if it did mean getting up at 4:20. Rather to my surprise, K rang me just before 8:00, to say that she was off to the seaside, Brighton, to be exact, so I asked her to let me know when she was on her way back, to see if we could meet up somewhere, to eat, or whatever. In the event, she texted me after she'd got back to the flat, to say she was going to order herself a pizza. When I suggested we have a meal together, the disinterest was palpable, even through the medium of SMS. Even when we're both at home together, it seems to be a major effort for her to deign to give me five minutes of 'facetime'. Yeah, fine, she's a teenager, blah, blah, blah. But I spent years, probably most of the second half of my marriage, with her mother making it clear that I was only as good as the contents of my pay packet, and now the same thing seems to be happening again. After looking forward for so many months, and so fervently, to spending some time with my daughter, it looks like my long career of disappointment is going to get longer still. The wages of my cowardice, of being scared to be myself for all those years, turning around to bite me yet again.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

Saturday, 16 August 2014

Another reason to visit my local

As if I need one! A new member of staff. And not only is he legal, like Daniel, but he's obviously over 18, because he's just served me at the bar, even if he looks at least two years younger. And he is cute! Not, of course, that I'm deluded enough to imagine I've got any hope of getting close to him, but it's doubled the eye candy quotient, if nothing else!

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B