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Word Up!

In yet another seemingly pointless blog post, here I am testing out Word 2016’s connection to WordPress. After a lot of faffing about, I managed to get it to finally connect to my blog. I don’t suppose running a multisite WordPress installation helps but I managed it. As with anything techy, I’m like a dog with a bone scouring forums and doing lots of tweaks and so on myself. You’d call it trial and error but it’s more error and trial.

Because Google Chrome is fairly resource hungry (despite me tweaking the settings under the hood) and because I refuse to use Microsoft Edge or any other browser for that matter, it made sense to me to try and configure it all through Word as I typically have that open at all times for putting down story ideas and all manner of brain farts. I like having the features of Word at my disposal although I was gutted to find that ‘Researcher’ isn’t available on the blog post template (please incorporate this, Microsoft!) which is a bit of a pain but I’ll manage.

Without really thinking about it, I have managed to do a post daily for the past few days so hopefully that will continue. I’m hoping (one day soon) to find my actual voice and just write. I must admit, having written on a (short-term) regular basis it seems to allow the words to flow much easier and if I can fine tune that into something with a purpose then I’m sure I’ll feel happier with the productivity and the platforms that may allow me to access.

In other news, I’m starting to feel a bit fitter. My knees haven’t been aching as bad since I’ve been walking more now that I am back in work. I’m on a phased return so I’ve gradually increased my hours and go back to full-time next week. Once the pain in my back eases off I’m hoping to get back up Pen Y Fan and hope to do another charity event to raise money for the Margaret Kerr Unit. I’ve been mulling the idea over as to doing a gaming marathon for Stand Up To Cancer but I’m not sure I will have the stamina (getting old now, see?) and I’d need to do something more than just stream gameplay. I’m not fond of the idea of being on cam as I’m gaming so I may resort to the [almost as] uncomfortable shit-talking via my mic. We’ll see.

So other than filling you in with the mundane, I also wanted to get the song stuck in your head. Enjoy!

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The Kelso Chronicles #2

I’m sitting here, pondering how to continue the Chronicles.  I had a train of thought when I did the first instalment and that train seems to have left the station.  In fact, it appears it left the fucking rail!

There is a lot I have forgotten, or mushed up into a memory medley that is out of chronological order or mashes time together.  I probably ain’t doing the events much justice and there are too few to corroborate or consult regarding such matters.  Not that it actually matters, mind.

I attended Broomlands Primary School.  At some point, someone nicknamed it Lego Land due to the style of which it was built.  Plastic panels, held together with plastic trim, concealing fibreglass and whatever else behind them.  The school is still there and hasn’t changed much from the look of it.  An addition of a nursery and fencing and some other minor details that were present in “my day”.

Kelso had (and still has) two primary schools.  Broomlands and Edenside.  We were rivals (to a degree) but not too serious – not sure what it’s like now.  When our class would go swimming, we would pass Edenside as the swimming pool was right next to it.  As we passed, boos and hisses and verbal “abuse” would fire back and forth over the walls and hedges from both sides.  The would-be enemies on both sides would end up becoming (in most cases) the best of friends come the high school years.

I don’t remember much about my teachers at Broomlands. Only a few stand out in my mind. Mrs Deans, who I believe was my Primary 2 teacher, still remembers me. Before my Mum passed away, if they ever bumped into each other she would always ask my Mum how I was. I think she was in The Waggon Inn when my family and myself were having a meal and some drinks after my Mum’s cremation last year. I was going to go over and say hi but I figured it’d be too awkward, especially given my reason for being there. And I hate awkwardness. Plus I’m not very sociable.

Mrs White was one of my favourite teachers. I had a few quirks that she seemed to like. I still have my old school reports and she noted on one about how I would roll my eyes when certain classmates would speak. They either bored me or pissed me off. Then there was Mr Humphrey. I can’t remember his nickname but it was related to him being very hairy. He used to do this trick where he would hold a cane and jump it. We were amazed at this 6ft something sasquatch jumping a cane. We had a PE teacher called Mrs Dodds who always seemed to lose her voice and the only other teacher I remember was Mrs Anderson. She was our P6 and P7 teacher.

Headteacher-wise, I remember Mr Topping (he links to a memory I have of Davey Oval that I shall save for another time) and Miss Murray aka Turbo Tits. She had a huge pair of tits. She wasn’t attractive and, I think, she was from Hawick. Her tits would enter the room 24 hours before she would. I remember she read us a story about Bobby Brewster and the way she would roll the b and r in Brewster was inimitable. It was weird.

The primary school days are rather blurry for me. I have scattered memories of things like Mrs Baker from Barnardos. “Did you know, I’m helping Barnaaaaardos.” My brother and sister often reference this when we speak as I would imitate her when I was a kid and it became like an inside joke kinda thing. I remember the safety videos we would watch (matches, matches do not touch; they can hurt you very much) and when we had our Green Cross Code and the policeman reminded me of Reg Hollis in The Bill. We had a number of ministers or reverends or whatever. We had Marion Dodd (I never liked her and this became a mutual feeling with my Mum after my Grandpa’s funeral) and Tom McDonald who, despite me not being religious, I thought was awesome. He was funny and seemed more…modern, more down with the times and understanding. He was a preacher that didn’t preach as such. Sadly, another link demonstrating how small a world it is, he was in the Margaret Kerr Unit whilst my Mum was there just before she passed. I’m not sure how he has fared in his battle but Google indicates he may have pulled through or at least continues to fight the good fight.

I know we had good times, lots of laughs and just randomness that summed our generation up. Typical late 80s to the mid 90s. I was obsessed with Batman. I did a homework assignment in P6 where it was an entire book full of stories I had written and sketches and diagrams. I wish I had kept it. I worked hard one summer at my Gran and Grandpa’s on the book and I was so proud of it. In school, it led to a lot of mockery and me being picked on to the point I succumbed to peer pressure and pushed that side of me to the back of my mind so I could ‘fit in’. I regret pushing my geekiness into the shadows. But, you can’t hold a geek down.

There were a number of kids who transferred to Broomlands and subsequently left again and, for the life of me I can’t remember their names. I remember a kid called Hamish. He had eggy breath. I think, in hindsight, it was probably halitosis.

I remember a kid called David. He was a mongoloid. I didn’t like him. Not because he was different. Well, I suppose it technically was, but he was violent. Music class was generally where he would launch various instruments at myself and others or hammer us over the head with them. I recall wanting to punch him in the face or kick him in the cock but I knew I couldn’t.  How would it look considering he was ‘different’? I was glad he left when he did.

‘The Crew’ consisted of Fent (who I still speak to), Kev, Mackie, Bruce, Fordie, Kel, Pimpy and myself. Although I never considered myself popular and still don’t, that was the group I hung out with.

And that does it for another instalment of The Kelso Chronicles. Mainly because my head is fucked from the Oramorph and Cocodamol and I’m surprised I’ve written THIS much. Until next time.

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