Johnny Town Mouse v Timmy Willie
I was introduced to this debate, urban v rural living, young by Beatrix Potter. Timmy Willie looked so adorable sheltering under his strawberry leaf umbrella and Johnny was sophisticated in a fine suit. Timmy was frightened of noise and Johnny frightened of silence. It played out on a grander scale in my life. My father lived in London and seemed to do life with such dynamism. Always working or reading the guardian or having a dinner party or going to the theatre. He’d even learnt how to package the country up into nice morsels, via a landmark trust cottage or biking holiday in Italy. Me at the Timmy Willy end of the spectrum felt I had not got in down pat… life that is. We spent a lot of time watching the rain, wondering how to spend our day or turning anything flammable into a cigarette. When I eventually got out from underneath my strawberry leaf I headed for the city. But the flora and fauna of home had seeped into my veins at some level. I knew a different pace of...