Uprooting… from urban life

We are embracing rural life. Why should it feel so damn frightening? I was brought up on a farm but I’ve given my children something else. A cascade of friends, activities, groups…a trip for ice creams when stuck for any other idea. A trip to the museum when all is grey inside and out. Distractions and attractions in every shade. That’s what the city offers. It’s a merry go round of excitement and easy living. 

But I feel I’ve spoilt them. This doesn’t seem like real life. I was brought up on something different. Hard earned fun buffered by extreme boredom. And discipline and Ofcourse animals, who were my main friends and teachers. 

I have shown them something else and will I ever get the genie back into the box.  Laurie now 10 is only really kept alive by WiFi, the faster the download speed the greater his capacity for breath… as he sees it.

Then girls aged 5 like the tidal waves of friends that can be found in any of the honeypots nearby.

Yes it’s all so alluring here in the flatlands. There’s a bicycle path on my door steps, a large park in every direction and rich culture that you can take or leave depending on your mood. 

Oh the disease of choice and excessive thought. I’ve literally worried the idea of leaving to death. Examined it from every angle and dug myself into a pit of confusion. 

Anyway amidst that I PUT MY HOUSE ON THE MARKET…so events will now slowly trample on indecision…one step at a time.

Our house in the middle of our street


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