Forget The Shrimp, Honey: More Than a Bolt Hole

Never, say the Buddhists, put thought to that which you do not wish to provoke but equally the opposite is also true, especially if it relates to positive or aspirational thinking. One might call it a sort of planning process although many would call it wishful. Regardless, I am not sure what exactly has triggered this feeling, whether it has to do with age, with new freedoms resulting from an increasingly independent child, the confidence resulting from the new job or the recent spate of terror attacks and other tragedies suffered by Londoners…(or perhaps I’m just bored) but the fact is, I’ve never been more driven to find a way of ‘moving to the country’.

This from the life-long Londoner, the woman who, hell bent (once upon a time) on moving to suburban Canada moved heaven and earth to do so only to realise after hauling a whole life over to smallsville Ontario that, in fact, London was the only place for me. It is a decision I’m sure in part cost me my marriage and in part not – some credit for that must be awarded to my wayward ex-husband. May it never be said that I don’t give credit where it’s due.

Of course this development comes at a most inconvenient time. Lishy is about to start secondary school – in itself a difficult enough passage – a challenge that will not be helped by the interruptive nature of a big socio-geographical move.

I remember my own mother suggesting once a similar change when I was in my early teens. I am ashamed to say mine was not the most even-tempered reaction. I was the very epitome of the surly teenager. The argument that ensued about the loss of my peer group took a typical melodramatic turn, which ended with a threat of death from heart-break. Suffice to say my poor mother never again mentioned such a preposterous idea.

This time round of course I’m making sure I do proper due diligence. For instance, I’ve been watching re-runs of The Vicar of Dibley by way of research into village life – impractical as that may seem (yes I know it’s not impractical, it’s insane), but in my defence I was once taken to the real village used for filming, in the area of Oxfordshire (or was it Berkshire) by a lovely chap (possibly the one that got away?) and while I admit is was very very ….very small, I do feel it is not outside of the realm of possibility for me to find happiness and inner peace in a place like it.

I know better then to uproot and go without more constructive advance planning however and to this end, I will be visiting target ‘wish list’ villages over the next little while to get a more practical handle on ‘shire’ living. In the meantime let’s just say thought precedes action.

So as ok as I am with this: