Living at home

For a couple of weeks I'm enjoying the comforts of my parents' house before I swan off around the world. I get on with them fine, so there's not a problem in that sense but whenever you move from somewhere you're used to into another person's domain it proves to be something of a disorientating experience.

Take this evening for example. Despite having a dishwasher (which my father uses only when forced) I decided to make an effort for once and do the washing up. Simple enough you may think, but when you're placed into a unfamiliar kitchen environment anything can happen. It proved to be a mixed start in that although I had located the required devices involved in the process of washing up there were some unexpected objects jack-knifed in the path towards successful completion. For one thing the sink contained a empty tin of Macaroni cheese which was still a bit too cheesy for my liking, and a jam jar. Unsure just what was intended and why these foreign bodies where cluttering the working area I decided it was time to establish some ground rules. I would do the washing up but I would only wash up items I knew how to wash up and why they needed washing up in the first place. Tin and jar were cast aside to the work surface for a more practical hand to examine at a future point whereas I got stuck in with the proper washing up.

Things were going well, plates and cutlery were cleaning nicely and I was about to put the first plate on the drainer when the next impediment to achieving washing up nirvana became apparent. There was a large plant sat in the cultery rack on the drainer. Not just a large plant but a large plant in a suitably proportioned bowl, rather akin to a casserole dish if anything. The plant had to go before I could get any further in my quest, but why was it there, and what would happen if I were to move it? One thing I'd realised about my parents' house is that things sometimes have their place, but there are many unwritten rules as to why things are where they are. Perhaps I wasn't thinking outside of the box sufficiently, but the plant's purpose in its allocated located was beyond me. There was nothing for it though; I would have to take the plunge, I would have to move the plant and get this washing up done!

And that's what I did. Easy, simple but as whenever you're in someone else's space it's seldom straight-forward. You get to where you're going but you tend to detour via a rural B road rather than taking the motorway straight there. Nevertheless it's a pleasure to be back, and I'll be enjoying it while I can before I get on the road and bargain basement youth hostels become de rigeur.