Detox

I disappeared again didn't I?

Sorry about that, it wasn't intentional. Just been a little bit busy getting back on top of life.

Plus there was the no internet thing....

How on earth did we cope before it? In fact for the last few weeks I have had no internet, no phone and no car. I went old skool baby, and I lived to tell the tale.

So now I'm back. I did survive. And it was probably good for me. Being only able to check your emails, FB, Twitter, Blog, G+, Instagram and work between the hours of 9 and 12 forces you to focus on the important stuff (ie getting paid) and the 'nice to have' little addictions simply fall away.

In truth I surprisingly didn't really miss any of it apart from this little corner of the internet I like to call my own. And so I'll be trying to show my blog a little more love in the coming year and the rest of the jumble that comes with it, a little less. It's truly amazing the amount of time and headspace that are taken up by it all.

During my detox I've not only moved house and got the kids settled back into their old school, I've done little craft projects, read books, written with an actual pen and paper in those lovely notebooks I keep buying, and got through the whole first series of Downton Abbey without once being interrupted by my phone (or rather my need to check all my updates on my phone).

There's a lot to be said for it, living in the moment instead of continually updating your status on it.

It is good to be back with the cool kids though...

Pick the car!

Anyone old enough to remember the late 70's, early 80's will remember at some stage sitting around the telly watching '3, 2, 1' or 'Bullseye' or some other such travesty of childhood entertainment with their family.

The climax of the program came at the end when the contestant usually walked away with a brand new bin or a stack of used fivers. But sometimes, sometimes, on those magical-not-to-be-missed shows they actually won the grand prize.

The audience would hold it's breath whilst the brown cardboard studio was twirled around to reveal the prize - a car! a boat! a holiday!

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Sometimes they even got to choose. 'So what will it be Marjorie? A brand new Ford Escort or a family trip to sunny Florida?!' It was at those moments that it got tricky for me. I would clench my eyes shut and repeat a whispered chant 'pick the car, pick the car, pick the car...'

'Ooo I'll take the holiday Bob' Marjorie would gaily declare as if she thought she was actually making the right decision.

'No, no, no! Not the holiday you crazy lady! The holiday will be gone after 2 weeks - but you could have the car - FOR-EV-ER. You're making one big mistake there sister'.

You see I honestly couldn't see why someone would do that. Why choose 2 weeks of pleasure instead of the long term, sensible option?

It's only recently I've come to understand. Taught partly by my 'short-term-pleasure-is-happiness' sister who values memory making experience way over and above any physical 'thing' that can be bought.

As I clutch on to what remains of my thirties with aging fingertips I can finally see that she's right. Experience wins over 'stuff' any day. Maybe it's an age thing and I've suddenly caught up with her thinking, but somehow I don't think so....I'm pretty sure that all those years ago she was probably on the other side of the sitting room with screwed up eyes willing Marjorie to pick that holiday.