I didn't think it was possible to feel boredom as an adult, but today for the first time in a very, very long time, I was bored.
I was bored of my recently turned teenage daughter talking to me in text shorthand:
Me: "Can you tidy your room please Daisy?"
Daisy: "tbh i cba mutha" (roughly translates to 'to be honest, I can't be ar*** mother')
I was bored of my 2 year old son insisting on me being a horse and riding him around the house whilst he sang repetitive songs in my ear, first time was funny, 150th time was tedious and talk about housemaids knee.
I was even bored of snacking through half the contents of the kitchen cupboards before moving on to the fridge.
So, I did what any good bored person would do. Went for a walk.
I live in a beautiful tiny village in Suffolk, I'd forgotten how beautiful it is.
Around 500 people live here. We don't have a shop in the village, the nearest shop is a car ride. The hub of the village is The Green where we have village get togethers.
We are surrounded by other tiny, delightful villages. Bury St Edmunds is the nearest small town. Unfortunately it can cost up to £20 for a cab home after a night out in town.
We have two pubs. The White Horse and The Bear. It's funny, no shop but two pubs. The White Horse is nearest our house so I rarely venture the extra few metres to The Bear.
Ah good times, many an accident I've witnessed at the stream. Mainly the rope swing attached to the tree here, and mainly involving adults. It is currently a bit lacking in water to call it a stream.
We have some resident kamikaze geese that live on the village green. There used to be more but in a recent tragedy one was killed in a hit and run accident. It was splashed all over the press (well, in the parish magazine) with a call out for witnesses to contact the police with any information. They never found the killer.
The preferred mode of transport out in the country. 'Just popping up the pub love'.
I've never noticed this. We have a phonebox. An oldy worldy phonebox.
And lastly, this is what I come home to, at the bottom of my garden is a gigantic field. I sit and watch the sunset here, contemplate life, sometimes run in and out of it for no real reason other than I can.In the middle of the field is a big dip; a large crater. I was told that a plane crashed into the field during WW2. I often sit and ponder how terrifying that would have been to witness, then I remember that my house wasn't even a twinkle in a housing developers eye back then.
I hope you enjoyed the tour of my village.
The End.
xxx
