Washing Up Musings

It's always in those gentler parts of the day that big thoughts sneak up on you, in the shower, folding laundry or in this case, washing up. As I was steadily scrubbing and plunging through the pile of dirty dishes and watching the steam from the clean ones wisp away in the drainer, it occurred to me that this week a decision was going to made that could affect the course of my life forever. On Thursday I'm due (if they are running on time) to hear back from my medical school interview, telling me whether or not I have a place. If I'm fortunate enough get one, then the fork in the road in my mental image of my future, would no longer be a fork. With the click of an email I would go from not having any clue what kind of job I might do, where I might work, what I might spend my twenties doing, to knowing that I will qualify at 26, spend 2 years in training and then (most likely) work as a medical practitioner for the rest of my life. That's a big change from blank. Of course if I don't get in then nothing's changed, I work hard at my degree, I try again next year, still no and I choose from a bounty of other careers clamouring for me to fall in love with them. Still, if it's a yes then it's a very exciting start to an entirely new type of life. Big thoughts indeed for a hands in the suds session; it took me by surprise. 

Freedom

It's funny but you'd never think of an ordinary play room, warm and cosy from the ceaseless sheets of rain splattering the windows, would epitomise freedom. You try to define freedom and you think of rolling hills sprinkled with wild flowers, you think of eager nations bursting free from the shackles of oppression, maybe you get philosophical and talk about the ability to make free choices but you definitely do not think of a play room, with a fresh cream cheese stain on the carpet, that's located in suburban Surrey. And yet, on this afternoon that's exactly what it contained. As a little family of 3 we sat and played games with pre loved toys, we laughed and chattered and appreciated each others company. By choosing to stay in for the day we were free from the endless tug of consumerism, we were free others' judgement of more unorthodox parenting styles, but most importantly we were free to be completely ourselves. My perception of freedom has changed - it no longer feels like a physical entity personified by an open road but it is more a state of mind shared between company. A mindset that is open and free to enjoy the present, accepting of what is around but also liberated from unnecessary wants or desires. It's a refreshing way to spend time with people but is surely hard to find away from the unconditional love of family?

Playing 'how many balls can you catch in the curtains'

Snow Day

It Would Appear

It would appear that indoor sparklers and bed linen do not mix well. 

 It would also appear that purple ink fountain pens have similar negative feelings towards said bed linen as the indoor sparklers. 

But most importantly, it would appear that a certain someone and other house mates' bed linen have the longest history of poor mixing and this should be avoided at all costs during future endeavours.  

My Daffodil

My lovely Dad bought me these after my interview yesterday. He's the only one to bloom so far. Sitting on my desk I see him as I work, before I go to sleep and when I wake up. It seems strange how he fills me with so much happiness; I think it's the intensity of his yellow and the way he cranes his head towards the light in a was that is full of desperation and determined defiance at the same time.

Takeaway Trade-In

I must confess, there are times when I do love a take away. You must understand not every night, I love to cook far more than I enjoy takeaways, but then there's the mess and the defrosting and when it's a Friday, I want nothing more than for someone to bring me a plate of nice dinner before I crash. This is a tradition that we started in exam time, when I feel we were perfectly justified to our Friday takeaway for four weeks, but it did develop into a dangerous habit last term. It's an expensive, unhealthy and non fulfilling habit (lets face it, those chinese's never taste as good as you think they're going to be) that leaves you ridiculously thirsty, a gradual accumulation of unwanted fat and empty pockets. Thus, this evening I beat of that urge and defeat it with a home made treat of my own. It turns out that fresh, friendly fish monger herring, coated in my Nan's batter recipe, with some fresh spring greens and a few home-made chips is far more fulfilling than its bought counterpart. Next week - I think I'll attempt a curry. 

The Importance of Cosy . .

. . . should never be underestimated.