Is This Thing On?

So, turns out poor old 0ddness has been a bit neglected of late. A lot late. But, with yesterday being a momentous occasion, I figured I would appear out of lurkdom and grace you with my presence.

Yes, I still think a lot of myself. Go figure.

(FYI: Long Post Klaxon!)

Firstly, I was indeed 41 years old yesterday. Of course, I didn't realise it was my birthday this weekend until Wednesday when someone asked me which day it was. And when asked how old I was, I had to pause, and do some pretty complicated mathematics in my head to work it out.

So, with the freshest thing first, I'll start with yesterday - in which I became older, no wiser, sexy as ever, and generally continued to grace the world with my presence. As mentioned already. As is usual, I don't make a big deal of my birthday - I'm not into the whole party-hearty because I managed to not die for another year. Yesterday was nice and quiet and chilled out. My gift from Poppy was me tripping over her potty, and splashing pee all up my leg, so that was nice. And warm.

In August, I finally bit the bullet and started looking for a new doggo. Since I lost Sally Dog, I wanted something small and stupid with a wanky obnoxious name - but have been putting it off and putting it off. First we needed somewhere bigger. Then we needed money. Then with Poppy, we needed her to be less... Baby. So, last month, Kellie made some phone calls (and aside from avoiding a rather dodgy situation with what later turned out to be some travellers and puppy farming!) she found a lady with a couple of Jack Russell puppies. We travelled over to see them, a boy and a girl, and set to having a play.

The little girl - as a typical female - was probably just having an off day, and didn't seem bothered by us. The little boy was an idiot, wanted to lick my chin and eat my stubble, and seemed to like having cuddles. He also like being near Poppy (kind of important with THAT force of nature) and on top of that, didn't growl at Kellie - so he can't sense evil.

We took him home there and then, and since then, the little idiot has been charging around like a mad thing. Naming took a couple of days (He was just "dog" to start with!) and we toyed with everything from Dave to Kujo to Jeff to Gobshite... Eventually, however, remembering a dog my Great Uncle had maaaaany years ago, we opted for Lord Montgomery II. Granted, we call him Monty, but everywhere he's registered, the vets, his microchip, his insurance, his name tag - he is Lord Montgomery. Which the vets find hilarious.

He's such an idiot. No sense of how small he is, can't navigate a series of three steps without tripping over at least one of them, can go through a baby gate in one direction, but cannot work out how to come back through... He tries to leap up onto the sofa - but takes off about three feet too soon, so generally hits the front of the sofa face first. As I write this, he is snuggled against me, on my lap. Oh yes, he's a lap dog.

Him and Poppy get on like, well, a toddler and a puppy. I should sell the idea to Disney for their next Princess. A noisy troublemaker and a puppy, systematically destroying everything they go near - but everyone still loves them. For some reason.

Anyway... With Monty being my early birthday present, I didn't expect to get presents yesterday, but low and behold, a large box was produced. I was genuinely not expecting anything, so to unwrap it and find a brand new spanking shiny gaming laptop inside, I was shocked into speechlessness. I expected it to be a box with a brick in it. Or something explosive. Or divorce papers.

You see, last year, I made the transition from a PC Gamer to a PS4 Gamer. The PS4 was my birthday present last year. My old Aspire laptop - while still able to run a lot of things - was getting a bit rickety. It survived the Great Kicking of Kellie in 2012, it was resurrected after the Dropping Off Of Screen in 2013, and even last year, it survived the Great Coffee Flood...

The Second Great Coffee Flood, however, proved to be it's undoing. All seemed well for a week or so, then, in the immortal words of the great Nanny Plum, it went BANG. Literally, BANG. Complete with the Blue/Grey Smoke Of Electronics Doom.

I have no idea what died, though I suspect either the power gubbins or the processor, but it was Dee Eee Dee Dead. And that, I am afraid to say, was that for the laptop. Within a fortnight, my old wheezy Medion PC System also gave up the ghost, and has since been sitting on my desk staring at me like a corpse glaring at its murderer.

But now, I am back in the world of the living. I am still a PS4 Gamer, but am also once again a PC Gamer. And, MOST importantly, I can now get many many Gigabytes of data retrieved from my old systems. See, having no computer to speak of meant the laptop and the PC have been sitting there rotting, their four hard drives holding tightly onto lots and lots of photos from over the years - including a multitude of Bethy pictures.

Thankfully, after doing the Medion hard drives, all the photos from the last ten years or so are safe and sound and YES I've already backed it all up. Thank you Google Drive & Photos. Of course, the anally-retentive Dan has spent the last three days sorting the photos and putting them into the correct Month & Year folders... Because why wouldn't you?!

I've not had a look at my laptop drives yet - I have to confess, I am a little nervous to do so, mainly because of the spectacular way it exited the mortal coil... As long as there was no surge in electrickery or, you know, fire, I think they should be good.

So, moving on from the most important thing (Yes, still me), I move on to the wee little troll that is Poppy.

She is growing like a weed. All the new stuff we got her for the summer is already looking a bit little on her. Not that it matters too much, as she is currently going through her "Nekkid Toddler" phase and hates to wear clothing. And runs around without a care in the world. She looks so much like Bethany some days,it pulls at my heart strings, and she is SO much like her, from the trouble making, to the putting herself on the naughty step after intentionally doing wrong, to hiding her dummies, so when you take it away from her, another one appears out of nowhere! She is gorgeous, funny, stubborn and bright as a button.

She's now entitled to her 15 hours a week of nursery, and so - realising both how fast she's growing and how little she is, she started three mornings a week at a little nursery near us. At first, she was, shall we say.... Less than impressed... She's never really been away from Mummy or Daddy or Siblings or Nanny - and the first few weeks she did to get used to it in August... They did NOT go well. But with the girls at nursery helping out, we persevered, and now she hates NOT going to school. She's still doing exactly what Tamsyn did was she was small and lovely, and refuses to speak except in her own language. Since starting nursery, she is coming on more and more.

For those of you that don't follow me on Twitter or Facebook or whatever, she also had her first proper injury in the summer - she gashed open her forehead beside her eyebrow. Typical guilty daddy moment, I looked away from her for a few seconds, and down she went. Because she was wet, the blood went EVERY-fooking-WHERE and she looked like Carrie. It was awful. It was touch and go for a while if she'd need referring to another hospital for the plastics team that rebuilt Jaysens hand as it was so close to her eye, but in the end, it was nice and clean and not too deep. Steri-Strips and TLC, and she now has a scar above her left eyebrow, but with copious usage of Bio-Oil, I'm hoping that it fades more and more over time.

As I mentioned earlier, she and the dog love each other, and are generally always running around together. Where one goes, the other follows. If she curls up for a nap somewhere, he usually curls up with her too, and it is exactly what we wanted - for them to grow up together and be best friends. They play with each others toys, play with each other, and literally bounce off one another. Until they both flake out and have a nap...

And it's at times like that, the rest of us can sit for half an hour, have a breather, drink some coffee, clear up the chaos, and wait for it to start all over again - because when one wakes up, the other wakes up.

As for the other morons children in the house - well, I say children... Dom is 19, has moved on from being one of the managers at McDonalds, and now works at some big financial place doing something... Financial. Jaysen is 18 (19 in a few months even!), still in college studying something with animals, while working at the Dogs Trust a couple of times a week - and now he's considering University. Molly is 15 and in her last year of school, getting ready for her GCSEs. Tamsyn is 12 (but seems older?) and is shooting up like a bloody weed as well. Both Molly & Tamsyn go to Army Cadets twice a week, and it's definitely doing them both the world of good.

Jaysen: Being Special

Molly: Probably Sulking

Poppys Other Great Passion: Water!

Tamsyn: Not Actually My Son

My Classy Kellie

NERDS

Lucina (Doms better half), Molly (doing something with her fingers),
Kellie (squashed), Tamsyn (still a girl) and Poppy (trying to escape)

Tam & Mo with their detachment (Armed Forces Day)

Now, oddly, I cannot find any photos of Dominic that fulfil the following criteria. Firstly, I wanted a recent photo, and secondly, I wanted it to be of him fully dressed and not on the toilet. As it seems all the photos I have of him seem to be in his pants or on the loo, here's the next closest thing.

Dominic: Needs a Haircut

And so, after what can only be described as a wall of text and random photos (and a cauliflower) I will leave it at that... I can cover my medical rubbish any other time - probably at three in the morning when I feel shite, and all of Kellies medical rubbish is a blog post unto itself.

And yes, I am fully aware that while blogging has never been considered "cool", I still prefer it to most other forms of Social Media. And, while on THAT subject - while I might have things appear on Facebook, I do not actively go on there, and have not done so for a long time. Too much drama, bitching, politics, and what seems to be playground behaviour - so I continue to avoid that. I use Twitter now and then, and post pictures to Instagram occasionally. I am hoping - though I'm not making any promises - that now I am back with a screen and a keyboard and no danger of autocorrect, that I will manage to blog a little more regularly. Aside from that, if you play on PS4, feel free to add me - username is Danielson0

Until next time, you little crowd of nutters that made it this far!

Fifteen!

Despite everything I have ever said - along the lines of "I'm going to kill the little shit!" - somehow, today marks Jaysens 15th Birthday!

Happy Birthday Jaysen!

When your eldest child reaches another birthday, you can't help but look back to everything over the years - how they've grown, developed, learned, and - in his case - injured himself.

Yes folks, aside from my rugged good looks, my superior brain and general attractiveness to people. Jaysen has also inherited my minor case of Accident-Prone-itus. As he proved while on holiday last month and literally tearing his knee a new one.

But aside from that (and the qualities he has gained from yours truly) I am so proud of him, how he has grown, and the person he is turning into.

To my little boy, Jaysen...

Fifteen? I cannot believe that you are 15. Sometimes, it feels like you've been around longer. Other times, I wonder where the cheeky nekkid-boy has run off to. Even though I know that, at heart, you are still that cheeky nekkid-boy.

I am still amazed at how you are growing, learning, and hope with every fibre of my being that you carry on as you are - funny, interesting, intelligent (sometimes) and smart (occasionally). All I want for you in life is to be happy, healthy and successful.

Happy I think you've got covered - you have my sense of humour, and enjoy laughing almost as much as I do.

Healthy sounds cliched, it's what every parent wants for their children - and while I don't count the idiot-related injuries, I hope you keep yourself healthy.

Success is not a score you can track easily. Some people count success as their job and the money they earn. Others by the possessions they have in their life. A million different people mark success by a million different things - but as long as you feel successful, then I am happy.

My message to you this year - and now I KNOW you are of an age where you read these and have probably since read back over your previous birthdays - is to keep on being you. Don't fall into the trap of having to conform to what someone else wants. Work hard, but remember to have fun. Study and revise, but as long as you try your absolute hardest, then that is what counts.

Happy birthday little man... I love you very much, and am proud of everything you have achieved in life - and I am sure will continue to achieve.

-Daddy
(Yes, Daddy. I'll always be your daddy)

Ketchup War: The Loser

His only talent...

Hanging With Religious Icons

Dodging the Punch

Aftermath of a Rough Night

Such A Cool Dude

Soggy

When Jaysen & Molly First Met
(She looks SO young!)

The Day He Tore His Arse Cheek

 

 

Manly Men

Damn Kids!

So, our lovely break to the beautiful Dartmoor has taken a small turn for the idiotic, thanks to the presence of - none other than - Jaysen.

Today, we decided to go for a nice long walk onto the moors. It was beautiful. So gorgeous, picturesque... We made out way uphill a fair distance, looking at the scenery, the plant life, the wild horses (much to Kellie - the horseophobe - delight) and the exposed rock formations.

It was at here we stopped for a break, taking in the views, looking at the rock formations that it happened. Jaysen decided to move uphill a little more but being that he's a dick head, he slipped, and landed knee-first onto a rock from the aforementioned rock formation.

He was hurt, definitely in lots of pain, and while checking him, Dom and I noticed the dark stain spreading on his jeans.

Seeing as we were damp, his trouser leg wouldn't roll up, so we had to wrap a coat around him and pull down his jeans.

Where we saw this;



Ouch.

So, time for outdoor first aid. We didn't have bandages or tissues, so Molly volunteered her tee shirt. A minute later, she's nekkid under her coat, and we're tearing up the material to wrap up the leg.

Thankfully he was able to walk on it, so we wandered back at knob-head-son speed. Kellie called James, who was working at the pub, to let him know. Luckily, his boss is a trained first aider, and they always have injured walkers in there, so that's where we headed.

Sandra (the boss) sat him down, we pulled off his jeans in the pub (sexy) and she set about cleaning it, putting butterfly stitches across it and wrapping it. We've got to keep an eye on it just in case, and he's now sat with his leg up.

So here we are, day two of our nice relaxing break. All fun.

Damn Kids!

Kids (In A Pub!)

Jaysen and the Hospital Trip

So, those of you that follow me elsewhere, would have seen my increasingly worse updates yesterday regarding Jaysen, his injury, and our trips to the hospitals. Plural.

I was sitting on the bus with Tamsyn, minding my own business on the school run when my phone rang, showing a number it didn't know nor recognise. I answer it, and it's Jaysen... "Hi dad, I've just fallen off my bike, and I have a hole in my hand."

I'm a little sympathetic, but all the kids are known for, shall we say, making the most minor injury sound like they've been disemboweled. I ask the standard questions, are you OK, is your bike OK, can you carry on to school...? No, he has a hole in his hand, is bleeding lots, and the man that he's with is going to run him up to the hospital.

Now, I can tell what you're all thinking, but my brain was NOT firing properly. I have the guys home phone number, he's been nice enough to help Jaysen out, and I was mid-transit with Tam. I figure, he can run Jaysen to A&E, I'll drop Tam off, shoot up to the hospital, worst case, he'll get a couple of stitches, I can drop him back to school, get home, job done.

I call Kellie to let her know what's going on, and she tells me off... I can't let Jaysen go with a stranger, I shouldn't trust people I don't know, etc etc. Oops. So I book a cab and my phone rings again - it's Kellie panicking... She tried calling Jaysen, his phone rang then went to voice mail, and when she tried again, it didn't even ring.

Basildon Hospital, however, is known for being a mobile phone dead spot. When we're there for blood tests or consultant appointments, we struggle to get a signal. Jaysen was in the bowels of A&E (or the boot of a crazy axe-murderers car!) where signal is non-existent.

My cab turns up, and I tell him to get me to A&E where my son has been dropped, and the driver is brilliant - gets me across Basildon in zero minutes. Yay for warp speed! He drops me right at A&E and I go in, ask for Jaysen, am directed to the kids casualty section, where I am re-directed to a treatment room. In I go to be greeted with a scene out of a budget horror movie.

Jaysen is sat on a chair, his hand in a doctors lap, a nurse standing beside them. Jaysen is covered in blood. The doctor is covered in blood. The nurse is covered in blood. There is bloody gauze, bandage, tape, and towels all over the bed. The floor is covered in blood.

Wow.

Jaysen, however, is fine. Not pale, not flinching, chatting away to the doctor and nurse, smiling to me, asking how I was... So obviously his little hole is just a bit of a bleeder. I can't see the hole, however, because at this point, he's been wrapped up. To protect from infection, apparently.

To make sure everything is OK, we're sent around to Xray, so I take the opportunity to call people, to let them know what's going on, and that no one needs worry as he's fine.

By the time I'm done, he's out of Xray and we go back to casualty, and are ushered into a room to wait for a doctor to assess and stitch him up. We sit and chat, and finally, it sort of emerges what happens...

While riding to school, Jaysen came to a corner, around which came another cyclist, travelling at some speed. In virtually a head-on crash, the two bikes hit, the other guy comes off his bike and he and his bike hit a fence. Jaysen, however, remains on his bike, and turns to make sure the other chap is OK. He says he's a bit hurt, and that his bike looks broken and holy crap you've got a hole in your hand dude!

Jaysen looks down to see a hole in his hand, dude. A hole that is rapidly leaking claret out all over the place. The other cyclist calls someone over to help, a woman, who panics and calls someone else over to help. The guy runs into his house, grabs a towel and gets Jaysen to put pressure on the wound. The cyclist goes his own way, the woman goes hers. Not sure what else to do, the bloke picks up Jaysens bike, and ushers him into his house, from where he calls me and lets me know what's going on.

Remember - I've yet to see his "hole" in his hand. I'm still thinking he's hit a bit of glass or a sharp rock and punctured himself.

So I turn to the nurse and ask her, "Is it really as bad as he's making out?" and she pauses, looks down at her messy apron, looks at me and says "It's probably worse than that actually!"

Hmm, interesting.

A doctor - a friendly chap from Jamaica - comes in, and starts questioning Jaysen as to how he did it, and starts unwrapping the bandage. Jaysen repeats his story, and the doctor says it looks like he has a break on a knuckle as well... And at this point, the hand is revealed to me...

PLEASE NOTE:
Clicking on these pictures will reveal the UNCENSORED version! Don't click if you're squeamish, and don't click if you're then going to tell me you're offended.

Jaysen really didn't do it justice. "A hole in the hand" is NOT what was revealed beneath the bandage. Look at the back of your right hand. From between your pinky and ring finger knuckles, go backward towards your wrist three to four inches. THAT'S the length of it. Go down into your hand about a half an inch, and there's the depth. Yes, it's gross.

The doctor showed me all the main blood vessels (which were visible!), poked at the tendons all showing their faces, checked for nerve damage (of which there was none) and started to wash it out. With a pair of tweezers, he pulled what appears to be a wiggly worm in the actual wound. If you look at the uncensored picture, it's clearly visible.

Giving the wiggly worm a gentle tug, Jaysens pinky finger started to bend. He then got the boy to straighten his pinky - and the wiggly worm pulled the tweezers downwards.

"THAT -" proclaimed the Jamaican doctor "- is a tendon. We're going to have to refer him..." I looked at the boy, and rolled my eyes, then the doc finished his sentence. "To Broomfield Hospital."

I know for a fact, that's in Chelmsford. Not really that far away, but bare in mind, we don't drive. Uh oh.

So, the doctor washed and repacked the hand, but not before I got some cool photos. Again, clicking on them WILL reveal the uncensored version.

My personal favourite - because it's gross

I call everyone, let them know what's going on. Kellie shows the photo around the guys at work, and they are all as impressed as I am with the damage he's done... Clearly it's a battle of the sexes - every woman that has seen it has felt sick, every bloke that has seen it has applauded.

While he's wrapping the hand up, the doc explains that had he managed to go a half-inch deeper still, he would have separated his little finger from his hand - but it would have remained connected at the wrist.

Ouch.

As a precautionary measure - and because of the scale of the injury, the doc started him on a very strong course of antibiotics...

So, Mr Doctor Man starts to examining the wound, checking out the bits and pieces that are literally bulging, oozing and hanging from the hole. In the pictures (assuming you're brave) you'll see what appears to be a wiggly worm... Well, the doc seemed concerned with it, and took it by the tweezers, giving it a little tug.

Jaysens pinky moved. Hmmm.

Getting Jaysen to wiggle his pinky, the tweezers gripping the worm pulled downwards. "That's a tendon." the doctor explained. I kinda figured that out myself. He checked for nerve damage and blood-flow, but they seemed fine.

"I'm going to have to send him to Broomfield Hospital - the plastic surgery team will need to rebuild him from the inside out..."

Great.

With a new box of antibiotics, a referral letter and Jaysens open wound redressed, I call everyone to let them know what's going on... When I call Kellie, she arranges for one of the guys at work to come and get us - and she rides along. I think she knows where today is heading, and aside from wanting to see Jaysen, I am Jaysens little rock, so Kellie gets to be mine. And she comes along too.

Chris and Kellie roll up ten minutes later, and we all pop home so we can change before heading up to Chelmsford.

Broomfield Hospital is beautiful. It more like a cross between a University and posh shopping centre... So pretty. We check where we need to be, and a helper takes us to Phoenix Ward, which I think is the kids Plastic Surgery ward. The staff are amazing - just like every other kids ward I've been on - and get Jaysen booked in and checked over, asking lots of questions about his health and questioning how he managed to splatter his hand.

The surgeon arrives within a few minutes of arriving, and has a look, a prod, a poke, and tells us he's pretty sure the wiggly worm is one of the two tendons attached to the pinky - and it's snapped, plus the other is damaged. So he will need surgery.

Out come consent forms and the discussion of what is going to be done, which I have to sign with very shaky hands. I'm being tough and strong, but not liking the situation at all. Jaysen is then given the option of Local or General Anaesthetic, which we discuss with him, and it's generally agreed that Local would be the best bet for health, recovering and himself.

I need to point out at this point that so far - every single step of the way - Jaysen has been a star. He's not complained, not whined, not moaned... The only thing he DIDN'T like was having a needle of local stuck into the wound before the Basildon doc could examine it. He's had no painkillers of any kind, despite being bent and fiddled with. I was, and still am, amazingly impressed with how he held himself all day.

We then have to sit and play the waiting game. We know Jaysen will be seen "that afternoon" but by now it's already gone 1pm. As he's only having a local, he's allowed to eat, which cheered him up no end, so we sit and chill out with some lunch. And then we wait. And wait.

And my phone dies!

And we wait some more.

Finally, at a quarter to four, the surgeon comes in, and tells us they are all set. Time to get gowned up, and despite demanding the nurses make him remove his boxers so his arse hangs out... No, now they allow children to have "dignity" or something. Pah.

Of course, when I'm around, your dignity goes out the window...

Next came the part I was dreading - walking my child down to surgery. I hate it. I hated doing it, I hated thinking about it, and I knew I would hate actually doing it.

So with Kellie holding my hand, we led Jaysen down to the surgical wing, where we had to leave him - then walk back to the ward and sit and wait.

Kellie made me a coffee, and I did my best to ignore the time. Now, I know that, logically, he was only having surgery on his hand. Logically, he wasn't hooked up to any machines. Logically, he was having some tendons repaired and a wound stitched up.

Logic, however, had done a runner, and didn't want anything to do with me that afternoon.

So we sat and waiting, running on "Hospital Time" which a lot of you fully understand. Up to this point, I was holding it together pretty well, but was definitely filling my pants with stress.

At 5.15pm, the nurse came up to get us. He was done and the surgeons were finished. Walking back to recovery, I couldn't breath, my chest was tight and I was ready to bolt. I had Kellie go in to see him, because I didn't know what I was going to see, and didn't think I could do it. It might sound wussy and weak, sue me, but my mind was racing in over drive.

Five minutes later, a cheery Jaysen is wheeled out, still in his very pretty robe, with an arm wrapped so securely, it resembled some form of boxing glove. From the tips of his fingers, down to his elbow, complete with a solid plastic splint, he was totally immobilised.

Which, you know, is sort of obvious as he has to allow his tendons to heal.

He looked so happy with his arm being strapped up - and that he was still in his dress - I had to get another picture of him...

Yes, you will notice that his thumb is totally free and able to move. This is him giving me a thumbs up. Despite the look on his face. And the very attractive socks.

The surgeon came back up a little while later, just to reassure us that everything went fine. They had to fully reattach one tendon, and repair another. To do the reattachment, they had to make the wound longer, as the other end had retracted up into the arm. Luckily, it was only an inch or so further up, so they didn't have to do too much more damage. Once that was repaired, they sewed their way up and out of the wound, closing it with very fine thread. I assume, considering the chap is a plastic surgeon, that the scarring will be minimal.

Jaysen has to remain in his bandaging for at least six weeks. We have a surgical check up next week to make sure everything is healing OK, at which point I am hoping to see the closed wound. You've seen what it looks like up above, but I've not seen it since fixed up.

I'm very interested.

Finally, we got in at 8.15pm, exactly twelve hours after I stepped out the front door to take Peanut to school. We were all hot, exhausted, Kellie and I were stressed out still, and Jaysen was a little bit worn out and aching (unsurprisingly) but had been a complete star all day.

All in all, it was a rough day. As usual, many people came out to see if they could do anything, to see if they could help, to send us and Jaysen their love. Facebook was full of good luck messages and similar, and again, a massive thank you to all our friends for their support and everything else.

Last night was a bad night for me, with things playing on my mind, and after a stressed-out stomach decided to evacuate it's contents at half four or so, I gave up, got up and had a shower.

Jaysen remains in good spirits, is cheerful and jokey, is only in a little pain - more dull aching than anything else - but we've been out and about together most of the day, wandering around town, seeing his mum, visiting his good Samaritan, popping around Asda, then home again...

Downside - his hand is so well wrapped - his RIGHT HAND of course - he cannot hold a mouse, cannot hold a console controller, cannot hold a pen, cannot get it wet... For at least six weeks.

I'm sure this space will have more, but for now, a massive thanks to the staff at Basildon Hospital Childrens Casualty Department, the staff at Broomfield Hospital Phoenix Ward, the A&B Taxis that ran us around, Big Chris for driving us from Basildon to Broomfield, Les for lending us his Fun Bus, and especially the man that helped Jaysen - that looked after him, wrapped his hand up, looked after Jaysens bike, and drove him to hospital regardless of his own plans at that point.

And to all of our true friends, a massive thank you for being there.

Naughty Spammers!

Now, if you've read 0ddness for any length of time, you will know I DO enjoy me some spammer-action... Be it cracking up at the attempts to steal my banking details, to hijack my computer, or by replying to them and leading them on a merry dance into my sick and twisted brain...

Today, however, I received an email that I was 99% sure was definitely spam. However, that 1% niggling away at me actually gave me a reason to pause and to check the details.

For starters, it arrived in my email inbox - usually Gmail catches the nasties, and flushes them away. Secondly, I couldn't see the reason for the mail... More often than not, it's asking for bank details, for PayPal logins, WoW accounts, Windows Key - I really do get the lot. THIS mail, however, had nothing in it to warrant the spammage.

And, lastly, it named Jaysen in it, albeit with the boring spelling of Jason. Which LOTS of people - family included - still can't understand after 14 years.

Lastly, it claimed to be from one of his teachers at school.

Here is the email in its entirety:

Paula Uland puland@farmersvilleisd.net
17 Jan
to me

Just keeping you posted on Jason's behavior.

Since we have come back from Christmas, Jason is having a very difficult time in class. He is talking out, visiting and eye contacting other students around him during directed teaching time and is very off task.

We worry about him not being focused and the effect on his grades.

We appreciate you working with Jason at home.

Paula Uland
Science

Now, I know to read it, there are so many grammatical errors in it, it's not even funny. BUT I've had letters from school with worse language-usage than this. Also, it's not from the schools domain, but then, if the teacher is at home doing grading or whatever, and uses their own email, again, fair enough. The fact it says he's being a shit in class struck me as odd, as Jaysen does well in science - it's the fact the email suggests I've been in contact with this person before now about it, hence the "keeping me posted" part.

Yes, it reads like spam. BUT, Gmail didn't bin it, there's no links or anything to try stealing my data, and it names Jaysen. Spam emails are usually directed to "Dear Dan English" or "Hey Mr/Mrs 0ddness Bl0g" or similar. Quite how they have tied "Jason" to this email address is very strange, especially when you consider - if it was a clever algorithm or something to link "Names" with "Email Addresses" then it would be the correct spelling of Jaysen. How they have tied Jason to my Dan English address is beyond me, especially as I don't use it.

So, to be safe, I called the school. That little 1% niggling away at me won over, and I had to check. The receptionist had to check with personnel to make sure there was no Miss/Mrs/Ms Uland working for the school, but they have no record of her at all, so now my mind is mostly at rest.

I'm considering passing it on to my ISP, see if they can investigate maybe, but I am also going to reply and assuming they have struck all the right chords, see what happens... "Yes, thank you for letting me know about Jason, I am glad you let me know, I will punish him accordingly, is there anything else I can do, etc etc" just to see what happens.

Oh - the final "That's Weird" part of all this - it ISN'T my 0ddness email address - it's my other one, my Dan English one. Which I don't use to sign up to stuff or anything...

All very strange, but I will keep ya'll posted!

Fourteen Already?

Another year goes by, and once again, I am made to feel like an old man. Older, as the case may be.

He's been a teenager for the last year, and so far, I've managed not to kill him, so really, today is a different mile-stone too.

He has grown into a smart, funny, cocky and contrite little man, with a wicked sense of humour... Granted, trying to get him to do anything some days is a mission in and of itself, but he gets there in the end.

Now, however, I know he is of the age that he reads over 0ddness every now and then, and know that he probably reads it cringing slightly at how uncool I actually am...

I wonder, however, if he's worked out that someone entering "Jaysen English" in a search engine will actually bring them to 0ddness - and the plethora of photos of him being, well... Him.

To My Not-So-Little-Any-More Jaysen,

Happy Birthday! I can't believe you're 14 already... It really does feel like not-so-long-ago that I was changing your nappies, sharing your photo around the office, and making you bottles in the dead-of-night.

I know you've had your ups and downs over the years, but I know that you've rolled with everything life has thrown at you, and you've not let the crap beat you, but you've learned from it and grown, adapting to every change easier than I ever thought - or more so, wished - possible.

I hope today is a great day for you - OK, yes, despite you having to be at school - and that the next year continues to see you going on to bigger and better things.

Again, happy birthday my little man. You'll always be my little man, and I will always be here to embarrass you - especially when you least expect it!

All my love,

Daddy
(Yes, Daddy.)

 

The Great Ketchup War

Abroad somewhere, feeding ducks in PJs

The Clear Panel in the Baby Cage

Posing Little Man

Evil Boy

Us, lunching at The British Museum

British Museum, Dalek Prototype #1

ULTIMATE FISTBUMP!