Janet (j4) wrote,
Janet
j4

Home Sweet Home

I got back home last night, and am now safely ensconced in a house which not only has BROADBAND but also wireless networking. This would be ace but for the fact that my room is the furthest thing possible from the wireless basestation. As a teenager I remember furtively contorting myself in my room with a TV aerial to try to improve the signal on my tiny black-and-white TV such that I could distinguish the naked nuns from the white noise; I'm back to doing the same thing now, but with a laptop instead of an aerial. Less of the naked nuns, though, and more of the iTunes and iChat. Instant messaging is more fun than I thought; I message my sister "u smell of sick heh heh :-P" and we cackle with laughter; my dad messages me just to test the system and I send him more LOL-ing leetspeak. He signs off. The three of us are using PowerBooks, and the room is warm and shiny with mac hardware; my mum gives the remote control for the TV to the toy badger that's sitting beside me on the sofa ("he looked left out") and then goes back to her book.

Yet I always forget just how peaceful this house is, even with all the affectionate insults and laughter and injokes and chaos and music that abound here; it's comfortable, like old boots (or old books, of which my room is still full) or soft sofas. The curtains in my room are so thick that I can sleep forever if uninterrupted; I woke at 12:05pm, and Lorna would probably still be sleeping now if we hadn't woken her up at 2:15pm. Tomorrow she and I will have our traditional session of haggling over the time that she can wake me on Christmas morning; she opens the bidding at 6 a.m., I start at 10 a.m., and we arrive at a midpoint somewhere around 8 a.m. (rather too early for me). Tonight will see the equally-traditional rituals of decorating the tree -- rituals which would make no sense anywhere outside the family, and which I couldn't even call to mind now; they will only be unlocked by the keys of the decorations themselves, lifted carefully from their packaging.

Perhaps I'll write about that tomorrow. Or perhaps I'll just sleep in, get up late, wander around the house, and luxuriate in the knowledge that despite all my plans for reading, writing, and otherwise constructively faffing, I don't really need to do anything or be anywhere. I am happy here.
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