Addiction!

I've always thought I have an addictive character, now I know for sure. Why else would I be lieing awake at 4.30am, planning what to write for my next blog? It must be addiction or else I am extremely sad and lacking in my life.

So many people appear to suffer a similar affliction, not necessarily to blogging, maybe the usual alcohol, cigarettes or caffeine. Maybe something more serious with medication or drugs involved, or maybe something more simple in someones lifestyle, like cleaning, or the way washing has to be hung on the line (used to drive me to distraction, but I'm better now). Is it a massive change in society or is the world such a different place that modern civilisation needs more than family life, employment and a future?

I personally crave for the life of my grandparents, when the expectation was to marry the girl or boy from the neighbouring village, live close to their families all their lives, have support, love and caring on the doorstep. There was no need to venture further than the garden for a few potatoes or fresh beans for dinner. Eggs fresh everyday from your own hens or maybe a swap with next door for vegetables or maybe a good turn. No trolley rage in Tesco first thing on a Monday, after the rush to deliver four children (and the friends that turn up on the doorstep) to school, preferably before the bell goes.

A touch of the rose tinted glasses I know, they had the war to deal with and long seperation was inevitable. Not everyone had the luxury of that little garden plot, maybe living in city squalor and smog and the diseases associated with such an environment. I suppose the craving is for the stressless society, where there was no pressure to have the highest specification car, cinema screen television, most lifelike sounding stereo. In fact, all the materialistic trappings of modern life cause the majority of my stress, constantly explaining why we can't go to Landmark, because we don't have a car we can all fit in at the same time. No, you can't have the new Playstation little Johnny next door has because Mummy chose not to work. Camping is a great holiday and you will enjoy it, because we can't afford the alternative in Lanzagrotty!

It is my stress however. The children don't really notice the things they don't have, because they've never had them. They actually make up games in the street and fields like we used to as children, play with a skipping rope or football, go for walks to the marshes. They are happy, healthy and lucky to be able to escape outdoors and I worry too much that I can't give them 'things' when I've devoted myself to them, more of a sacrifice than any amount of money could replace.