On Catching My Breath

*waves foot* Hello from my sick bed at the Bristol Royal Infirmary!

Had a massive asthma attack last night and it turns out its because I have had pneumonia for a fortnight without realising it.

I also may have sarcoidosis so am staying in till I have had all the tests and can, you know, breathe and shit.

Will be blogging from my mobile while I am here so please pay no attention to photo placements as I cannot choose where they go on email. Exciting!

Just a short post to say hi, I'm not dead, though it was close, and to thank the amazing NHS staff who saved my life last night.

And the amazing Abbi who called the ambulance.

More tomorrow!

On My Love For All Things The Archers

At 2 years a listener I am still a newbie to the docu drama about all things Ambridge that is The Archers.

I wasn't there when Grace and the barn went. I was not there when John met his grisly end under the tractor nor when Nigel plummeted from the roof.

Helen's turkey baster pregnancy that ended in the demon spawn that is Henry? Nope. Ditto Ruth's cancer, Brian's affair and Peggy's predilection for men named Jack.

I didn't grow up listening to The Archers at my mother's knee. It was all radio one in my house and I will be honest, I was scornful of those who worshipped at the altar of Alan's giant organ.

These days? Can't get enough. I hear the opening strains of Barwick Green and my whole body relaxes. I know it's time. That glorious hour and a quarter on a Sunday morning where I join with my #thearchers twitter family and submerge myself in the goings on of the week.

So what changed my mind? Mainly @yokelbear @allthisandless and @BLUESKY20. They are very good friends of mine of years standing and as long term listeners they all said I would love it.

Yet still I resisted. I have quite an addictive personality (totality of Breaking Bad in four sittings)  and I was worried it would be something else for me to get sucked into.

And I was right.

Am I sorry about this? Hell no. My Sunday morning and Monday night (more on @Dumteedum shortly) have never been so much fun.

Here is my Sunday morning ritual. Alarm goes off at 9.30am (yes I have an alarm so I don't miss it. What?) and I get up, put the kettle on, go to the loo and have a ciggy. Make coffee. Go back to bed with said coffee. Headphones and radio on. Open Twitter. Listen to last five minutes of Broadcasting House and tweet 'Signing in. #thearchers'.

For the next hour and a quarter my fingers are a blur of tweets, RTs, favourites and replies. It is my church and this is my Sunday service.

But why? I hear you ask. Well there are a few reasons. Here are some of them.

The writing. It is sublime. Beautifully crafted. When Jack 2 died I cried at the tenderness. When Phoebe gave Kate both barrels I shouted my joy. I screamed when Tony got flattened by Otto the bull. I cried at Johnny's panicked and plaintive "grandad!".

Because it is on the radio and possibly because I listen on headphones it is close. Intimate. Personal. And all the more absorbing for it. When Otto lost it (because Henry was using his Omen powers I reckon) I couldn't see anything. It was all noise and screaming and panic and fear and noise and, and, and...

It was perfect.

Because I care about them. I care that Helen is being gaslighted by the abusive Rob. I care that Lillian is being abandoned by Matt. I even care about Shula and Alice's fight for domination over the direction of the Christmas show.

I care about who wins at the Flower and Produce Show. And I am not sorry. Not even a little bit.

It is bloody hilarious. The innuendo (taking Pavel up the polytunnel) the comedy (yes, when it suits you dear) and the ridiculous (Jolene and Harrison in the shower jumps to mind. Then won't leave. Ever.)

Lynda Snell's sniff.

I actually learn about farming. No, really. I know more about robotic milkers, herringbone parlours and anerobic digesters than you. Suck it up.

Plus there is a real community of listeners. The AmbridgeFeministCollective is a thing. We have our own nicknames for the characters, Piggy, Hellon, Titchynob and PC Harassment Carpet Burns being a few. We have our own in jokes, most of which are filthy and we have the marvellous @Dumteedum podcast that feels like a family.

Dumteedum.com is pretty much my favourite place on the internet. Run by @Roifield and @lucyvfreeman it is a raucous, irreverent and yet loving look at the goings on in our favourite village.

They are lovely. Ridiculously so. And funny. Side splittingly funny. And they genuinely care about their listeners and caller innerers.

They are family. I have met so many people through our love of Jolene and Kenton and they have been there for me through non Archers related trauma.

We even got together for an award ceremony last November where I fell a bit in love with Radio 4 goddess Susan Rae and scared the shit out of the actor who plays Rob Titchenor.

Good times.

So why not give it a go? What's the worst that can happen?

Well you could end up stuck in a conversation with Charlie Barber Spreadsheet about field rotation...

On Vaccination

Lots of my friends are tweeting and facebooking their dismay at parents who are refusing to vaccinate their children.

I add my voice to theirs. It is unthinkable to me to have not had my children vaccinated even though it was right at the time when there were questions over the safety of doing so.

I did not want any of my children to either die from a preventable disease nor to cause harm to any other child through my negligence.

However, I have another layer to add to it and that is anger at the inherent ableism wrapped up in the idea that it would be better for your child to be dead than to be autistic.

Let me make this clear, there is NO LINK WHATSOEVER between autism and childhood vaccination. None. Not one iota.

But even if there was, if you think that autism is the worst thing that your child could have, worse even than mumps, measles or rubella then you need to have a word with yourself. Seriously.

Since my daughter person has had their Aspergers diagnosis I have been asked more than once if they had the MMR jab.

The answer is yes.

This has been greeted by sad looks and one idiot asking me if I felt responsible for them being mentally deficient.

The answer is no.

Firstly, they are not mentally deficient. Not in the slightest. Secondly, the MMR jab had nothing to do with their autism. Thirdly, fuck off you ignorant piece of shit and do some research.

So go vaccinate your kids and recognise that you are selfish, abusive and ableist if you don't.

I'll take autistic over that every day of the week.

UPDATE: Have spoken to someone since posting this that had VERY good reasons for not vaccinating her son and I totally respect her reason for not doing so.

I wish to make it very clear that I am talking about the selfish gits that won't do it because they don't believe in it. Or that don't care about the safety of their kids or the safety of others.

On Death

Feeling kind of melancholy this evening.

You see my Uncle Terry just died. He wasn't blood related, he was one of those family friends who you grow up calling uncle. This doesn't mean he wasn't my real uncle because he was. He encouraged me to play the piano for my dad and gave me a cuddle when my dad was dismissive. (I never played the piano again after this so it sticks in my mind that he was kind to me at that moment) I saw him as a quiet man, unless there was rum involved, and I loved him dearly.

I hadn't actually seen Uncle Terry for quite a few years but that didn't matter. He was a constant. He was nice to me when I was a kid without wanting anything in return. He wasn't creepy, he wasn't loud, he was just Uncle Terry.

And the world is a poorer place without him.

It has got me thinking about death though.

I keep getting phone calls you see telling me that yet another contemporary of my parents has shuffled off this mortal coil and yet they are still both alive.

Regular readers of this blog know that my relationship with my parents has been difficult and that I am actually trying to sort things out with my dad and biomum. It isn't always easy but I am trying and so are they.

It occurs to me that one day (Bio mum is 65 and dad is 80) I will get a phone call to tell me they have died. And I don't know how I will feel about it.

For years I said I would only go to Biomum's funeral to make sure she was dead and that when my dad went I would cheer but these days I am more mellow about them and not sure how I will feel.

I know it won't be joy and that is an improvement right?

I never know how I am going to feel about a certain situation until I am in it. When my depression and PTSD were at their worst I truly worried that I was a psycopath and that scared me (this fear is apparently quite common in sufferers).

Not sure where I am going with this post if I am honest. Maybe a link between ambivalence about the death of my parents and my past abuse and current mental health?

I don't know.

I do know that I am not looking forward to it and that I miss my Uncle Brian who died last year and my Uncle Terry who died today. They loved me and were kind to me.

Maybe that will be their legacy, to be remembered with love by someone they were kind to.

We should all wish for such.

On Page 3

So there are to be no more tits on page three.

Shame about the rest of the paper though, it is full of them.

Don't get me wrong, I see this as a victory for women despite the likes of Jodie Marsh not getting it.

She has been tweeting that she was paid well, felt in control and was mainly dealing with women so it is ok.

No. No it isn't.

What she couldn't control is how the men viewing the images on page 3 saw women. What she couldn't control is how that contributes to how men treat women. What she couldn't control was the objectification of women. In fact she contributed to it. She contributed to the attitudes of men who tell us to smile in the street then call us bitches when we don't. She contributed to lad culture and women thinking they are no more than their bodies.

Do I blame her? Not in the slightest. Am I about to send her a load of angry tweets about it? No. Life is too short and I don't have time to be dealing with trolls and idiots today.

So back to the main point.

It IS a victory for campaigning and for women that Page 3 is to be no more but this is no time to rest on our laurels. It is one battle. We haven't won the war yet.

There is still much to do and none of that includes forgiving the sun for the lies it told about Liverpool fans. None of it includes excusing it for the lies it tells, the hatred it stirs up and it's continued objectification of women.

None of it includes buying the Sun.

Not now. Not ever.

The tits.

On Depression - Guest Post

This one is from my friend Drake. I haven't known him that long but he is one of the good guys and we watched Massive Attack in a field as the sun went down.

I don't actually agree with the bit about meds but this is his take on it and I am hoping that it provokes discussion and debate.

Here it is!

At some point in our lives we will all experience some form of depression. It might last for minutes or years. The cause of it can stem from virtually anything. I stop short of calling it an illness as that suggests that the person is broken. They are not. 

You may turn to a doctor, who in turn will, in all likelihood turn you to drugs. These anti depressant drugs will probably work for a short time but having spoken to friends who have been prescribed them, it appears they only work in the short term. The equivalent of the Dutch boy sticking his finger in the dyke, it doesn't solve the real issue merely covers it up for a while, sooner or later it will burst through.

I personally believe the best way of dealing with depression is talking about it. The irony of that solution is that a depressed person is unlikely to be the one who makes the first move. 

When you have depression it seems the whole world is against you. Your closest friend can seem like your worst enemy, your brain will make things up about them forcing you further away from them. You retreat into your shell and step away from the world. 

I am fortunate enough to have some incredible friends who noticed when I was going through my own dark time and they did their best to help me out, they showed love towards me and gave me an understanding ear even when I didn't want it. They were, I now realise always there even when I tried to push them away. 

We all have friends no matter what you may think. If you are one of these friends and consider yourself to be a true friend, you should be there if you suspect someone is going through these troubled times. Don't take exception if the person is curt with you or if they appear to not want your help. And don't make the mistake of thinking they just want cheering up, obviously that will help in the short term but what is really needed is for you to try and understand why they are depressed. That and being a constant presence in their life will eventually get through, and hopefully that person will start to open up.

I understand that this will not work for everyone, the person suffering has to try to help themselves as well. So if it's you try and reach out to someone, if they are a true friend they will stop and listen and try and help you. 

There is NO shame in asking for help.

I firmly believe that if you do reach out to people, that it breeds confidence both in you and the person you have reached out to. They will see you as a strong person for being able to do so and the chances are they will then see you as someone they can confide in.

It is tough but with the love and support of friends and family it is definitely achievable.

Drake, formerly of another name. Green fingered life enthusiast.

Ched Evans v Football - Guest Post

Yet another guest post! This time from my good friend Kerry Fairless. A man who spends more time than is healthy at Roots Hall and used to be a referee. 

And here it is.

Despite the name, I'm a bloke. And I'm a bloke that does football. And I am going to talk about rape. And football and morality.

Ched Evans. Convicted rapist, professional footballer, scumbag…. Call him what you like. The fact remains that he is a convicted rapist, and should be treated like all convicted rapists.

He has no more rights than you or I.

If I were a rapist, I would lose my job. I would not be welcomed back with open arms once my prison term was over. I would do what everything other rapist has to do, and that’s apply for jobs with new employers with the word “rapist” on my CV.

And I am not special. You won’t find any teachers, policemen, fire fighters, doctors, civil servants, etc with “convicted rapist” on their CV. Whilst forgiveness is to be applauded, there are certain things your history won’t forgive.

You cannot be a role model and a rapist. It sends entirely the wrong message out to young and impressionable young men. Don’t believe me? There were a small group of Sheffield fans singing “Ched Evans, he screws who he likes”. Luvverly.

That hasn't stopped a couple of clubs sniffing around nor has it stopped a couple of Football People speaking out in favour him. But they’re wrong.

Gordon Taylor, as Secretary of the PFA, you were very, very wrong to question the conviction and then bring Hillsborough into the debate as an example when a judicial ruling can be over turned. As a union rep, I know sometimes you have to defend a member you’d rather not, but you massively dropped the ball. You should resign. Now.

Steve Bruce, a fine footballer and a half decent manager, you do not have any legal qualifications that permit you to voice your opinion that the conviction was wrong. You were not on the jury, you have not seen the evidence, you are speculating. If I were you, I’d be concentrating on keeping your team in the Premier League and not spouting shite about something you know fuck all about. On Match of the Day tonight, you should consider apologising for sticking your face in where it is not wanted.

But, despite some high profile rape apologists, there is a massive positive coming out of this…

We are not dealing with another Jimmy Saville or Rolf Harris when it was easy to understand the rights and wrongs of having sex with children. We are dealing with a rapist. A male of consensual age who has raped a female of consensual age.

Many football based forums have seen debates that have moved from people saying “yeah, we should sign him” and “what he did was ok” to “no we fucking shouldn't sign him” and “what he did was disgusting”.

This is primarily down to people speaking out against rape and explaining exactly what rape is, what it constitutes, how you should treat women, what saying “no” means and so on.

Many have now got an education on what exactly rape is. Yes, there is a laddish culture in football, but that is being chipped away at. The message is coming across loud and clear “NO MEANS NO” and silence must not be mistaken for “yes”.

In the real world outside football, I hope Evans apologises properly to his victim and his friends and family stop their campaign against her.

But I really hope that everyone learns a lesson from this, and if it prevents a young man becoming a rapist because he didn't know the rules then this entire debate will be worth it.

Hi, I'm Kerry. I was the man who "used to..". Nowadays I've a job that involves me knowing more about screws than is healthy........