Growing Pains

                                       

I am so happy that Megan has gone away and posted a post (?) as well! So proud. That's more than either of us have heard about one another in ages. Bloody awful, isn't it! One of my favourite things to do is also cuddling up by a real fire. It is one of the best things about winter for me. It's unfortunate that our college house has no fire - the only downfall!

Some of my best memories as a child was coming in from playing in our big garden, or in the farmyard, and sitting down on the pea-green rug, legs crossed and watching television with my family. One Christmas morning, we came downstairs to find a baby lamb in a box beside the fire. Her name was Lucy (my decision - having said that, I called everything Lucy at that age; the car, the other car, the chickens) and her mother had passed away on Christmas Eve, so Mum brought her in and put her in a box with straw beside the fireplace. I still remember how surprised we were that morning! Lucy turned out to be something of a pet for us and having tamed her, she'd follow us around the farm-yard. 

One of my first memories was being lifted onto the back of our farm dog, Mac, by my parents and clinging on while he ran around the garden. That was the followed by my parents placing me onto the back of the nearly-grown Lucy, who also decided to run around. That didn't last as long as you can imagine; I just remember falling off, like a person on a Bucking Bronco, and my parents in absolute hysterics. We also had chickens, cats and cattle on our farm, and I can easily say that I had a wonderful childhood.

Growing up on a farm was just a fantastic way to spend your time, and it definitely made me and my siblings bond for life. We had no-one else to play with, so were forced to get on, but still some of my fondest memories were on that farm. We had a stream that ran through the front garden and when my sister and I were forced to share a room, we would constantly bicker about leaving the window open. I wanted it open because I loved nothing better than falling asleep with the comforting sound of the passing stream. Jessica didn't! But more on all of that nostalgia-lark at a later date.

I understand how Megan feels about this year. To be fair, she's had a bit of a dose the past few months but the positivity is just RADIATING from her. The only way is up! But a few months ago, I wrote a similar post about wanting to say goodbye to 2012. I was more than delighted to see that go because that was just a horrid year in totality for me. 2013 has been better for me in a lot of ways, but every now and again I just get a sudden pang of panic, when I realise that I really don't want to grow up. For example, trying to decide what I want to do next year is wrecking my head because I am subconsciously trying to calculate how that will fit in with "the plan". You know, "the plan" that we all have vaguely marked out in our heads and try to live by, only to be thrown off when we slowly realise that there is no plan in life, aside from living! I know I want to teach. Without a shadow of a doubt, but when? I could be 26/27 before I get around to doing the H Dip in England, but then I don't want to run over there straight away and get stuck in a profession that limits the time I can travel. Very stereotypical, I know. We all want to travel, but for me it's an imperative. I have to. There's so much of the world left to see and I'd rather live as a pauper for a few years doing that, than sat in a house somewhere, planning and wishing I had seen more.

If you know that wonderful Facebook page, Humans of New York, you often see people who have that regret. However on the other end, you hear from people who didn't plan for the future enough and are facing a financially difficult retirement. Neither of my parents will be able to retire as such; a fact that causes me sheer panic whenever I think about. There's been a lot of talk recently about our generation; Generation Y, the Boomerang generation, Generation Expectation and more recently, the Lost Generation. That's how I feel our generation will be defined as in the future; as lost. Emigration really does seem to be the only way forward and it makes me desperately sad to see the increasing hollowness that Ireland has succumbed to. In some twisted turn of fate, our generation is repeating the actions of the 80's and a solid fifty year period from the 1870's on. 

The worst thing? We seem to take it laying down. 

That's very negative, I'm aware, but it's unfortunately the reality. However, our greatest strength is laughter. As Irish people, we are by nature very self-deprecating but have the sense (or insanity) to laugh at ourselves. That's demonstrated very well in this spoof clip from the Late Late Show, where an Irish comedian, Mario Rosenstock, imitates a German economist, the only man who warned us of the impending hardship. 

We watched this in a German literature class, a subject which I am surprisingly not failing! 

I'm going to go back to my lazy Saturday now, and am hoping to hear from Ciara and Dee soooooooooooon. 

On another note, I've followed in Dee's footsteps and now present a show on UL FM, the college radio station. It's been going really well so far, and I got to interview David Wallace, former Munster and Irish rugby player, about Special Olympics this week. So in love.

S