Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘city life’

I used to think I was a country person. At the time, I was working on a farm with some pretty amazing people. I plowed and harrowed fields with horses, fed chickens, milked cows, helped to shear sheep and butcher pigs, pumped water, and cooked on a coal-burning stove. Those were some of the best years of my life. At that time, I thought I wanted my own farm with my own horses, chickens, and sheep. (No cows or pigs. Cute? Sometimes, but being almost impaled by a cow horn, charged by hungry cows/angry bulls, and having to unearth a buried feeding trough for the pigs every day were all pains in the butt.) Ideally, it would be a historic farm, from 1880 or earlier.

Over time, as I grew and traveled, I learned that I really didn’t want that country life. I realized that I loved those years on the farm because I loved the people and what I did. (And the horses. I also loved the horses.) But I got to go home to a heated/air conditioned home every night with a shower and a microwave, so it wasn’t a completely immersive experience. And I traveled. I visited cities, big cities: Dublin, London, Edinburgh, Rome, Florence, Venice, among others. And do you know what? I love big cities, especially big European cities. I adore them, actually. London was the first place that I actually felt at home in my life, at peace. I belonged there. I can’t tell you how badly I want to be there right this minute.

Do you know what sounds heavenly? A life where Marty and I have a small flat on a high street in London with a small balcony. I’d write for a living. No car. There’s the Tube, so driving isn’t necessary. Stopping at a Tesco to pick up something small for dinner, or takeaway from a small restaurant. Fish and chips, perhaps, because we have a yen for it, no matter if it’s touristy. Strolling past Tower Bridge, the Globe, or St. Paul’s on a crisp spring evening. Sitting in St. James’  or Hyde Park and just soaking up the history. Watching tourists with umbrellas stroll around Piccadilly Circus and going to have dinner and a drink at this wonderful little Italian place on Kensington High Street, then going to bed knowing that I can do it all again the next day. My heart is in London.

Someday.

Where does your heart lie? City, country, or suburb? Why? Comment below or on FB.

Read Full Post »