This is me in the kitchen of our home. I thought it fitted with today’s theme.
If you could live anywhere, where would it be?
Funnily enough, I asked the Panther of News this the other day and, without a beat, he answered: “New Zealand.”
“But it’s so far away. And you’ve never been.”
“I know but it I just know it would be right.”
I don’t have anything like that power of certainty. There are places I see that make me nod inside and imagine myself inhabiting every day, but nothing I’d be sure of. I’ve learned, you see, that places, in the main, have people in them – and, if you live there, one of whom will be you. And that’s where the success or failure of a place will lie.
That said, watching the enormous adventure of blogger Dorkymum upping her sticks and taking them to Tasmania has sparked a little something in me, possibly envy, maybe a whiff of possibility.
The thing is, everywhere I’ve ever lived has been because circumstance chucked me there. Not that it’s a bad thing, just I didn’t give it much thought, hardly any.
Here’s where I lived:
- Penrith – I was little
- Aberdeen – I stayed on after university
- Edinburgh – seemed like a good idea and I knew someone there who had flat to let
- Troon – I was in to sailing at the time
- Edinburgh – then the only place to study journalism
- Glasgow – I had a job there
- Boats, various
- Hamble – it’s where the last boat tied up
- Glasgow – I could get work
- Gran Canaria – seemed like a good idea etc
- Kilmacolm – Close enough to Glasgow where I could get work and yet somehow suitable for the baby. Plus I’d been there once before and it seemed quite nice
- Bridge of Weir – See above, plus in catchment for the good school… 11 years later we’re still here.