“Don’t you feel it’s a bit early to retire?” a well-intentioned friend* was asking me. “I get it. It’s gorgeous. But isn’t it a bit too comfortable?” He continued.
“Comfortable. Comfortable? What? Pfff. No, it’s not!” I protested.
—
Six months ago, following only our hearts, my husband and I moved to the countryside. Very promptly, as I usually do, I proclaimed that the entirety of my life problems were now solved. That all the pieces of me were finally coming together in an endearing pastoral romance.
I had found myself, along with my Devol kitchen and my Barbour jackets. This was IT.
—
A full six months later, one might be wondering how all of this is going.
So, just for you, here is a short account of my life in the countryside…
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Oh no, it’s raining again.
Yeah, I know you knew. I knew too. But I don’t think you ever really know until your family comes to visit you from the South and it rains for the whole week. Then they come again a few months later and it’s still raining, and they’re try…