Village Monologues

I love living in a village but I sometimes it really drives me mad. I live in a picture postcard English village when I'm home with my parents, and I feel quite cut off from everything even though it's not far from London or Cambridge. I can go to all kinds of places should I have money enough to spare, (which is rare just now!) but if I spend too long here I start to feel the need to scream, because I'm just not achieving anything. So why do I feel so discontent?

The answer, as far as I can make out, is quite convoluted and not very obvious. I'm stuck between two worlds at the moment, on one hand, this village has a lot of idyllic qualities, like pretty buildings, nice people, countryside, fresh air, close community, and nothing really drastic ever happens (apart from illegal raves...we made it onto national news that day!) and I like to have the time to appreciate everything around me, which seems to be possible here. But I actually NEED to go back to York, and to city life, where there are other people, other things to do, more things that are constantly changing, and more space to develop in general.

When I was younger I used to think it was sad that there are hardly any young people in villages, as their populations tend to be made up of retired people, and well off business people with young children (cause they can actually afford to live in the old cottages!) But now I completely understand. It's a stifling environment for people my age, because life doesn't move forward very fast, and it seems the ones who really fit in are those who've reached some kind of plateau in their lives, where nothing much is going to change for about 10 years or more. I like coming back here for time-out, but I couldn't settle in a place like this for a good few years yet. I do love it here, and it is my childhood home, but the world out there is so much bigger. I guess city life has spoiled me!

More anon dear folk