Tag: fiction

Time Team, 17th Century Farms, and the Art of Socializing

Andy Young1 Comment
Field

The best friend visit has officially concluded, and I am currently back on the sofa—blinds drawn, brain rot playing on YouTube, and living on leftover naan bread while my nervous system slowly re-calibrates.

All things considered, it was a success. The initial five minutes carried the usual social awkwardness, but we quickly settled into a rhythm of red wine (me), beers (him), and an Indian takeaway. My disordered eating decided to crash the party, allowing me precisely five mouthfuls before declaring me entirely full, but Owen politely didn’t make a thing of it and polished off his own meal. The birds took to him immediately, and he genuinely loved the flat—particularly the lounge—which made the pre-visit panic feel a bit more worthwhile and made me happy.

We even mapped out a plan to alternate visits once a month, which gives me a structured, low-pressure way to slowly break out of the flat and rebuild a bit of a social life beyond my usual tight circle.

Naturally, the morning brought administrative chaos. Despite cancelling my care calls for breakfast and lunch, a carer materialised in my hallway at 8:00 AM while I was in my dressing gown thinking it was Owen. A second one turned up at lunchtime, requiring me to pull out written confirmation like a landlord conducting an inspection. They were apologetic.

We spent the morning drinking tea and watching Time Team, which ended up triggering a massive wave of nostalgia. It made me look back on my time living on a 17th-century farm—80 acres of land, natural water springs, and endless ground to explore. It’s strange how getting older makes you realize just how extraordinary certain periods of your life were, and how much I’d love to be out there today with a metal detector digging up history.

For now, though, the flat is quiet, the front and back cameras are watching the perimeter, and I am officially in recovery mode for the rest of the day.

Also, there was an email from one of ben’s teachers saying how well he is doing in class, that he’s putting in massive effort and that she’s proud of him. Well safe to say i am extremely proud given its only month two at his new school. Yay for him.

Cameras, Cleaning, and a 16-Year-Old Footprint

Andy Young2 Comments
Mr bean

It’s been a week of high security, deep-seated vulnerability, and preparing the bunker for human interaction.

First up on the home security front: I have officially installed a second camera out the front window. I now have the front and back of the house covered. Am I tracking local wildlife, or am I just establishing a tactical perimeter to monitor approaching delivery drivers and avoid unnecessary human contact? A bit of both. Either way, seeing what’s happening outside gives me a subtle layer of safety, which is always welcome when the PTSD brain decides to trigger a multi-day vulnerability spiral. This way I can still see what’s going on out there. Local wildlife includes the odd roaming crackhead.

Speaking of human contact: my best friend is visiting today and staying the night. I haven’t seen him in two years. I’m genuinely excited, but my nervous system is currently celebrating by generating irrational panic. Standard procedure.

To prepare, my weekly cleaning carer has been floating around doing the heavy lifting—changing bedding, hoovering, and tackling the bins. She is worth her weight in gold. Her English is minimal, but her ability to execute a immaculate living room refresh while keeping my tea mug constantly topped up makes her an absolute hero. I still refuse to let anyone else clean my bathroom—that remains a strictly personal domain that I insist on controlling—but I will gladly accept a tactical assist in the lounge and kitchen.

Meanwhile, we are entering the dreaded three-month gauntlet of back-to-back birthdays culminating in Christmas. Every spare penny is already spoken for, particularly as Rebecca is turning 16. Sixteen years ago, when she was born, we had a silver bracelet made featuring a tiny cast of her newborn foot, and I’ve been holding onto it for this exact milestone. It’s spent the last decade and a half in storage, so I’ve ordered a new presentation box and a silver polishing kit to restore it. Assuming I don’t accidentally polish off the footprint entirely, I’ll be posting a before-and-after photo once it’s restored.

For now, the flat is looking fresh, the front camera is operational, and I’m hiding on the sofa until the doorbell rings.