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Freedom, hey?

At liberty. Free
of constraint. Independent. Able to exercise free will. 

It's what we
all, here, hopefully expect. 

Its loss, in
some ways, is what is so confronting as a parent.

And it is so
inspiring to see our small charges striving for it. As they run away up the
street, straight for the road with the buses. As they leap the neighbour's
fence in a single bound. As they put their heads down and speed determinedly
towards the chip aisle. 

I still haven't
lost the deep joy that grown up freedoms afford. And I'm politically conscious
enough to really appreciate the superficial stuff.

I choose to go
to bed at 1am if I want to. I choose to read Dostoyevsky or Who Magazine, I
don't care what anyone says. I choose to eat cheesecake for breakfast if it's
in the fridge. 

I was talking to
my mate Ben about this last week, he too is someone who appreciates grown up
freedoms.  Ice-cream for breakfast, pizza every night for a week, bed
whenever you want. Maybe even more appreciative this week as he's about to
hit the big 3-0 (happy birthday dude!

What are your
greatest freedoms? 

When I really
think about it, it makes me so so grateful, because the list is so endless.

I choose to : go
skinny dipping. Wear boots, not heels. Have short hair. Listen to incredibly
daggy Celtic music. Write. Drink. Laugh. 



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