Accommodating decisions

Decisions, choices.

There are too many of them in this hyped-up, consumer-led world.

For example; supermarkets.

I don’t mean that there are too many brands of supermarkets.

Or even that there are too many supermarket outlets.

But you go inside the supermarket and boy is there too much choice!

Want some washing-up liquid?

How long have you got?

Because over in aisle 13 we have four rows of washing-up liquid.

And those are just the lemon, lime, banana, strawberry, mango and/or orange flavoured products.

Over in aisle 14 we have 9 types of 5 brands of Eco-washing-up liquid.

Good grief.

Anyway, want some peas?

In aisle 31 we have 18 types of 9 brands of frozen peas.

Whilst over in aisle 33 we have 5 types of 31 brands of tinned peas.

But back at the greengrocery counter we have a selection of freshly grown peas.

Yet just around the corner at the specialist greengrocery we have a selection of organically grown fresh peas.

Sigh.

Back in the Spanish mountain village where I used to live, the ‘supermercado’ shopper has two choices:

‘Do you want this one, or not?’

And life as a consumer was just so much simpler.

So the thing that teases my brain as I cruise down the M5 in the early morning light this Tuesday, listening to the Chris Moyles ‘brand new cheesy song’… I have my own decisions.

About where I’m going to sleep.

You see, the place I’m working for the next few months is borderline commuting distance from home.

But I’ve been creeping home more frequently.

To The Lovely S.

To my own house.

To my own bed.

And when The Lovely S has been working late, I’ve been able to go straight to the yard to spend some quality time with the boys, tidy the lorry and then ride Vinnie.

But the situation changes next week.

The Lovely S will be away at a Welsh University, working on her MSc.

So do I make the trip home every night next week?

Distractions are well… distractions – whether the distractions are children’s toys or just ‘alien’ noise.

This isn’t about ‘not commuting’ or staying locally.

It’s about being in my own environment – a place I know; not having a shared one.

It’s about spending time with my own horses – force-feeding them apples (ha!) even if I choose not to ride.

And about choosing whether or not to cook pasta in my kitchen.

Where I know where the knives, forks and plates are.

Hmm…

As I read this back it looks as though the choice is making itself with very little input from me.

🙂

But a whole week at home by myself?

What will I get up to?

ROFL!
B.