Home, Sweet (?) Home

"A house is not a home unless it contains food and fire for the mind as well as the body." - Benjamin Franklin

I'm fairly sure I have had a rant about this before, but it's bugging me again. Why does everyone make being an adult look like it is easy when this is clearly lies?

Lemons, it was lemons that really got me today. How is it that at my parents my mum always have lemon, they never go bad, and I am fairly sure she doesn't use them for anything. Am I being fooled, are they fake? I am sure I have used them for baking before, so what is this witchcraft?

Also stuff going wrong, all of it, all the time. Why does everything go wrong? I get one thing fixed, I settle down and think I am going to get a break, a chance to relax and enjoy my home. Then the next thing goes, or series of things. It is unbelievably frustrating and I feel like I never get a break.

Then there are all the things that haven't gone wrong but need doing. Grass, does it ever stop growing? Get the mower out, fix the "issue" the mower has developed since it was last used, mow the by now jungle like lawn, put mower away, turn around........jungle! The same goes for housework, shopping, finances. Having a home is like having a child in it's own right, with a constant unending stream of wants which rapidly become needs.

Honestly I have to go to work, I have to manage my house child, I have to solve the mystery of sneaky lemons. No wonder I regularly feel a little frayed.

Om

Sorry I have been absent for nearly a fortnight now, but I have been working on something very important to me. My own space.

My other half and I moved in to our first home together about four months ago, and as anyone who has done such a thing will attest to, it takes a while to get your space sorted. The house is certainly far from perfect, but I have finally got my own little room sorted out enough that I have somewhere to sit, create, read, write etc.

And why Om do I hear you ask? No, oh well I'm still going to tell you. As it is the smallest room in the house it was in grave danger of being called the baby room. My other half wasn't overly keen on what the implications of that name might be, he therefore suggested that since it was half a room it should either be called the Ro or the Om. Om it is.

So that's why I haven't been regaling you with my thoughts, ideas and Newsnight inspired rants. I am set up now though, so I will try harder!