Monty Oum

The man behind many projects shows and was an inspirational and brilliant man passed away today, he was 33 years old.

i never got the chance to meet him, i listened to several podcasts, videos and panels that he spoke of his work, how to tackle massive tasks and huge challenges. I followed his work closely and used many of the themes he lived by and inspired others to do the same.

Latitude Radio has been an superb experience. i have loved every moment of it but it has been no easy task. I love every one of our members for the unique and different outlook they bring to the team. I would say that each of them should have no fear or concern when they approach me. Every Idea, thought or possibility they want to try, i would work night and day to help them achieve.

There are several people who inspire me. and Monty Oum was one of them. he was incredibly talented and i will continue to work and push latitude radio into the fantastic station it will be with the team i am proud to lead.

Rest peacefully Monty.
Thank you for inspiring me.

i know i know

I have said this half a dozen times but i keep not blogging


But today i have something i want to talk about.

Ive mentioned him before but Micheal Collins my grandad was my hero.

he cared for me looked after me and just made sure i was always okay and it hurt me so much when he passed.

today i received a little present to look after myself with when i was beginning to worry.


i miss you so much. but i know your looking after me.


i havent stopped crying since i got home but I am honestly the luckiest lad alive. i really am.

My Old Girl

*edit* the use of shirt sentences and the broken form of language is that I wanted to write this but it was hard and a bit too much emotionally draining  to handle, I wrote it in bits as I felt able to do so. *edit* 

The Old Girl. 

85 years old, great grandmother and more attitude then any of the kids. 

She lived caring for my mum from when she was very young and even to this day she spent more time making sure my mum was happy than anything else. 

She spent her last few weeks with us as it was where she decided she wanted to be, she ate with us, played with us, even joined in with the playful abuse and insults that myself and my siblings throw around at each other. 

She took a trip to France with my parents and I took her shopping for it, just to buy odd things like a scarf and a new walking cane, (hers was all dull and wooden plus it was a little long for her) the new one was red tartan and lighter, she loved it. We both made jokes about how as this one was made of metal she could easily cause someone some damage with it. We sat down in the cafe and she told me that she liked living by the seaside. That she was happy here. 

We wondered down the high street and second time, me holding her hand as her legs "weren't as solid as they used to" when she grabbed my arm a and laughed telling me "no ones allowed to steal you away, you are good lad who deserves a good girl". 

Few days later when booing her friends back north, she tells them her grandchildren are looking after her, no not the sprogs, Mandy's kids, the bab-bie (a title reserved for the grandchild she holds dearest) and the two university ones, "yes both go to university!" She repeated everytime she told them with the biggest grin on her face. 

We take her home and have a few weeks of cautious care to make sure she was comfortable. 

I return to London and am greeted with a answer phone message from the Old Girl whittering about how excited she is to go away and see the French house. I call her back and she giggles declaring "nobody ever calls me back". I speak to muggy who tells me she made her call all her friends to tell them that her "Grandson, the one who is at university!" Took her out for the day. 

That was on the Friday

The following Wednesday was the next time I spoke to muggy. 

She was distressed because she had to take nan to hospital and needed me to come down. 

I'm there within the afternoon and she already begins to brighten up having two of her grandchildren there to talk too.

We leave her for the night and are greeted the next morning by the nurses informing her they had to call security during the night as she had attacked to members of staff with her "special tartan cane" (no clue where she had got that idea from). 

Couple days later spent sat next to her in hospital the doctors decide we can take her home as they physically cannot do anything to help her. The moments bittersweet. The Old Girl looked at me not an hour before and told me I had to get her out and that I had to get her home to us. But as a family we know that by being able to bring her home, that her time isn't as long as we would want it to be. 

The doctor comes in and tells the Old Girl can go home, she looks the doc dead in the eyes and says "I'm going to cut you if your lying to me." 

The Old Girl is 5ft 3 and weighs just over 6 stone. But her conviction proved she wasn't messing around. I couldn't stop laughing. 

Two days to two weeks realistically. 

The first week she was herself, brighter, had breakfast with us, told us stories of the family and mocking contestants on TV quiz shows. But occasionally she would say something to us when we were alone with her, mum, jonesie, Bucky , muggy and Bartlett. We all had a moment, I'm only comfortable telling mine:

She held my hand and told me she was proud of me, that she thought very highly off me and that she was sorry. But also angry. Not because of what was happening but because she would never get to meet my own little ones. 

I've never cried so much in my life. 

The second week she was tired. My mum and muggy (who nan adored ) lead the way in caring for her, I've never been more proud if my little sister. I helped where I could, feeding her giving her water and tea. Holding her hand or helping her sort her blankets or bedding. 

The final few days she stopped speaking, but smiled when she heard our voices, she would watch us in the room with her and would cuddle a teddy my mum and bought her. 

She passed while cuddling my mum, with a smile on her face. Not in pain. Not suffering, peacefully. 

I'll miss you Old Girl. I love you Nan

Laugh or cry

My terminally Ill Great nan just work me up ( as im lying on a airbed in the room) to tell me she loves me. And that she's sorry that she has been such a "burden" but not to worry as it will only be for another day or so. She's now sound asleep and I'm not sure of i should just laugh or cry

Professor Michael Collins

My Grandfather Professor Micheal Collins is a university lecturer who has created and wrote many books in his field of biological science and sport-science, he is a key and vital member of the local Methodist Church, the church my parents married in, I was baptised in, and I attended for the first 12 years of my life. 

He is a man who traveled but always wanted to travel further, 

He is man who lived sports, watched sports, enjoyed sports breathed them. 

I remember him spending hours in a garden with me playing football despite him being some what less of his "physical prime". 

Even now he spends his afternoons editing and critiquing unveristy journals and literature for the writers. 

This is a man who lives for other people and to help each soul he comes across, a man I greatly respect and admire, and hate the fact he is now on borrowed time. 

I don't have many heroes, but I can honestly say Micheal Collins was one of mine. 

Just a thought (I)

In a completely irrelevant and useless thought, how much of the world do I actually have access too? If I look at the worlds as 100%, I wonder what percentage are private, lawfully prohibited from me from entering or simple just behind a locked door? 

Just a thought 

Searching for Alaska.

I love to read, as a matter of fact i love to write i just am not very good at it.

Looking For Alaska is fascinating little book from John Green, it follows the tale of a group of friends in a boarding school.

Im not going to go rattling through the story, the pros and cons of the story, the emotional turmoil i felt, although i did feel sick to my stomach (in a totally good way)

what this book does for me is show a real, honest and genuine look on how one person can have such a influence on you, through attraction, friendship or adventure.

it shows the awkwardness of relationships, the irrational fear of teachers, the heartbreaks of loss and the damage the same person who can bring you just as much joy.

bottom line?

Buy this book. It will be one for the history books.