There are few things on this Earth that i find quite so unflinchingly annoying as family.
Instantly I feel a need to justify and probably rectify that statement with a prefix. I am all about Family, In a genuine, non-Fritzel-esque kind of way.
There is a peace, a calming blanket, that comes over me in a wave of relaxation every time i board the train and pull away from the platform, leaving the relentless hustle and bustle of "The big smoke" behind, if only for a few days I begin to fantasise about the possibilities of some seriously hard-core chilling, including massive sofas, open fires and dogs, lots of dogs!!
Home; a word which in recent years has begun to conjure up feelings of warmth, welcoming and escapism, my family home as it is, a farm, is just far enough away from civilisation to offer real solitude while also being close enough to its nearby city to offer an opportunity to catch up with Friends, not to mention fresh air, an underrated commodity among your average ooo-aaaar horsey wank pot, but you spend a day in deepest, darkest east London and you'll soon remember what a pleasure fresh air "used" to be!!
If "home" were a magical place in some fairy tale i reckon it'd be enough to end the description there, as i read that little ramble i realise it sounds idyllic, a "quantum of solace" akin to a Beatrix Potter novel. As it stands there are a couple of problems with that, one or two little blips, well i say little when what i really mean is great big solid concrete speed bumps complete with florescent waning signs in an otherwise perfectly scenic fantasy, namely my family, because lets face it, this isn't a fairy tale oh no, this is real life and the reality is far from perfect!!
With the organised merriment of Christmas behind me, i slowly begin to subconsciously fall back down to Earth. It becomes apparent that the jovial demeanor and upbeat attitude were a sham, you would have thought id have learned by now, but theres a pattern emerging that i just dont seem to recognise. I realise I would have been shit on the Krypton Factor!
My brother, the cocky bastard, had the right idea, got himself packed and jogged the aftermath right on and with relative ease aswell, wanker! Ito the sunset as though it were predetermined that hed simply miss out on the post holiday dinge, i didnt get the memo. As soon as hes little more than a speck on the horizon i get "the look," an in genuine smile as if to say, "Right mate, you've had your Christmas dinner and your new boxer shorts, your selection box and your lazy afternoons in front of the telly, now your gonna work it aaaaaaaaall off, and its gonna come in sweat sunshine!"
Now ill be the first to admit that im my own worst enemy, already having kicked any New Years resolution well into touch with the reckless abandon that i imagine a tramp has as he walks away from yet another cardboard box turned to mush by last nights pissing rain.
Ive hit it hard again, i say that as though there are genuinely times when that isnt the case, im lying to myself aswell as you, but ive allowed myself to glimpse an alternative reality where its ok to do this around my ageing, and these days painfully dry, parents. Unfortunately this alternative reality is about as likely as a nice fat lottery win.
Am i inside some kind of shit film? Or better yet a reality show designed solely to test the furthest boundaries of my patience? A sexy presenter waiting to jump out from behind the chest of drawers and give me a prize as i finally flip and brutally murder my folks with a tea tray because ive broken a new time record...... two weeks of solid mum and dad chat, well done!
This, alas is not the case as I settle into be adjudicator of yet another 'cup of tea and game of scrabble afternnon' I come to the realisation, "I think ive done my time now, that should be sufficient i reckon, tomorrow would be a perfect time to get back off to London!"
