| Wednesday |
| dinner nightmare |
It's supposedly always a pleasant surprise when you get presented with something new and different on the dining table at dinner. I had been craving a nice small hot pot for some time now, and finally my wish has been satisfied, but it doesn't feel as satisfying as i had hoped.
Mum and Dad spent some hours shopping and preparing this new Korean flavoured hot pot for tonight. Despite good intentions, time, sweat and effort put into this dinner, it was probably the worst i'd ever recall having. As they say, the road to hell is paved with good intentions.
If you had ever tried Korean hot pots before, you'd appreciate that it is really hot. Chilly hot. Aside from the fact that the slow cooker took forever to boil the broth, which was problem one, within the first couple of mouthfulls, my brothers and i began to cough and splutter. Never blame it on the food is an etiquette in this household. My younger brother, dave, decided to break this unspoken code of conduct, leading onto a series of problems.
Mum began to scold at us all for not appreciating her cooking, (which we do appreciate), and complained that she will never try new stuff ever again, (which is never going to happen anyway). Then silly dad complains the food is too bland, which a few minutes before that, mum was told off by dave for adding too much salt. Mums yells at Dad, Dave yells at dad, mum yells at dave.
Silence. Beautiful silence.
Mum tells younger brother to eat.
He refuses and asks that he has the meat well done.
Mum complains that nobody in the entire household listens to her and angrily suggests that dave doesn't eat the meat at all.
Dave frustratedly gets up and leaves the table.
Older brother gets up after his meal and goes back to bed.
Emotions pour. Mum cries and leaves the table for her room. Dad gets up and stacks the dishes.
I sat silently and nibbled at the food with a sore gum, which was occupied to my wisdom tooth a day ago.
Mum decides to come back out to the kitchen in tears and yells at me (simply because i was available and vulnerable, whilst my other siblings have escaped to their respective rooms).
Mum goes back into her room. Dad finishes off the dishes. Brothers continue to lock themselves up in their rooms. I pack and leave for the gym.
Perfect dinner. |
posted by sciurine @ 12:12 AM   |
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| Monday |
| In the b'rat |
Today marks a full month of me not bothering to update this blog, for which I am quietly ashamed of. But of course, as with everything, there are reasons for my absence or perhaps excuses more so.
As part of my university course, I had to complete a clinical placement out in a rural town for four weeks, from which I have just recently returned from.
Ballarat is a small town a good two hour drive away from the city centre, a place I have learned to embrace with all my heart. Here, I were to spend my next month on a hospital placement, living with people I had never lived with, taking on responsibilities I have never dreamt of.
The health status of people across Victoria is considerably different, particularly when comparing those living in the city to those in rural Victoria. Studies confirmed that rural Victorians are more likely to suffer more and die earlier. The lack of health professionals who willingly choose to work in rural areas has prompted rural institutions to make enormous efforts and expensive methods of attracting us, up and coming new graduates.
One of which is providing a self-contained four bedroom house, fully equipped with all white goods and comfortable beds and a not-so-attractive-looking persimmon tree in the back yard for medical and allied health students to stay during their clinical placements. An expensive investment from the rural health committee, not to mention students live in the house free of all costs, water and electricity bills and house-keeping responsibilities.
What more can we ask for?
Moving out is like a rite of passage, a giant step in life. It is not so much stepping into the unknown so to speak; you do know most things about living away from your parents and siblings and you have been told about the responsibilities once you’re out, but until you take this step, you can not appreciate how much is involved.
A house of boys calls upon inevitable trouble. A house of girls is no different. Living with mates for the very first time is a challenge, but not one that can not be quite easily solved with patience, time and love; similar to nurturing a relationship.
The usual daily things require much more thought. Grocery shopping for instance. Peanut butter versus jam versus honey. Beef versus chicken. Chicken leg versus chicken wing. To satisfy everyone’s preference is like finding the perfect pair of shoes in the first shop you visit; impossible.
And then there’s the dilemma with cooking chores, cleaning duties, sharing of communal areas and fights over remote controls.
Something I had never appreciated living at home is that cooking can take a great deal of time. Suddenly, without mum, preparing meals took out my precious television time, relaxation time and me time. I hadn’t the luxury of coming home dumping my bag down in a cleaned room that I had previously left in an absolute mess, and then throwing my legs up onto the couch or bed to enjoy whatever I enjoy doing. I had always believed in celebrating Mother’s Day more so than Father’s day to say the least.
Like travelling overseas with a partner, living together can make or break a relationship. Luckily, we travelled on smooth water. And here we are back in the city, in one piece.
This is my 200th post. |
| posted by sciurine @ 10:45 PM |
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| ABOUT |
Thoughts, ...flowing slowly and gracefully, ...awakening the senses, ...keeping you up in the night, I sometimes wonder why people write. To express? To reflect? To be heard? I write, to free myself from a world of thoughts.
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