I love Saturday mornings … an 8am lie in is plenty enough for an early bird like me [and by that time I REALLY need to pee!]. Two whole days of freedom, with laundry and food shopping thrown in, and a party tonight. Let’s rock this bump on the dance-floor. Liberation!
Last night before bed, I caught up with “Our Girl” on the iPlayer. I like Lacey Turner, and remember watching the one off special they produced last year. It made me strangely emotional [hormones?] considering yesterday’s vote for strikes on Iraq. I was born in the midst of the Falklands War, and it seems every generation has it’s own conflict, although with weaponry getting more advanced and dare we mention the N word, it gets a little scary.On a global scale, I remain bemused that we haven’t learnt lessons from the history of conflict; yet on a human level, I feel immensely for the soldiers [and their families] being deployed. I used to take the harsher view, that if you joined the army, you had to expect to be sent to war – it’s written on the tin etc. Yet perhaps the military appeals because of the associated “adventure” and routine, an opportunity to travel, and avoid the 9-5 day job. Either way, I thought “Our Girl” was brilliant, and will be watching again tomorrow. Brave men and women facing their fears far from home … fighting for us whether we want them to or not [whether they want to or not …]. Do I agree with the vote on Iraq? I remember standing on a decrepit balcony in Calcutta, in 2003, trying to tune a crackly handheld radio to BBC World Service, listening to reports from the fresh war in Iraq. 11yrs ago. I think our mistake was joining Bush in the first place [thanks Tony] – you can’t just blitz a country, kill their albeit evil dictator, leave it in an utter mess, and expect respect from the citizens whose lives you’ve ruined. Total fuel for the likes of ISIS.
Gosh, that was a bit heavy for 8.20am on a Saturday. In a strange way, being preggers, I tend to think about things in a different way … I find myself sitting at my desk formulating the kind of childhood I want my child to have; what values and philosophies I’d like to share with them. I’ve touched on this before, and no doubt will again in the coming months. I’ve also thought a lot more about my own childhood, and the huge debt of gratitude we owe our own parents for devoting so much of their lives to our own. Amazing how much we take forgranted.
Midwife appointment went well this week, BP was normal [I’m such a fruitloop] baby’s little heart was chugging along like a train … and only two weeks until the next scan when hopefully baba will uncross his/her legs so I can start planning the nursery! Regardless it shall contain bunting, the family crib, and a rocking horse. Essentials, no?! Talking of which … I can only plan the nursery once I have a moving date! I’m hoping the solicitors will let me know in the coming week when we exchange contracts … everything seems to have gone smoothly so far. Excited much. My very own keys to my very own flat!
No doubt I shall keep you informed!
And out popped Fredders 