Home sweet home

That last blog entry was irreverent even by my standards, when I read it back to myself I couldn't help but think: pasta in the kettle? Really?

Anyway, on the same topic (lifestyle) hopefully this missive will make more sense, I'm finding it hard to decide where I want to live, I've done small villages, towns and cities. I've not lived in the middle of no where on the basis that it would be boring but having lived in the city (as far as Edinburgh can be called a city) I find the peace and quiet living in a field miles away from anywhere or anyone increasingly attractive.

If you live in town and earn average money you'll be domiciled in a flat (or apartment if you're American, I say that because on checking my reader stats, someone from Alaska read that last entry, I assume he or she is cooking up a storm with their kettle as I type.) Flats come with certain drawbacks, for example living above somebody who thinks their sitting room is a recording studio or below someone else who thinks they are an Olympic gymnast who has hard wood flooring. A detached house in the country, preferably a castle offers a degree of solitude and silence not available to some one living in a block of flats, in fact, it's not really the mode of living that is the problem; it's the people. Obviously you or I don't fall into this category (which we'll call the Selfish Cunt Category, I only use that most extreme expletive because I like alliteration) but most other people do. For example where I live at the moment the man who lives below me has a keyboard in his front room, I know its a keyboard because he plays it at full blast at 1am (it was Bach's Toccata and Fugue in D Minor, you know, the Dracula music?) I banged so hard on his door, his next door neighbour answered their door and told me to tear him a new one for being a selfish bastard. (Obviously I didn't do that, I politely requested that if he insisted on playing his keyboard at that time of night, something a little more soothing would be preferable, say Satie's Gymnopedies or Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata.)

One of the other downsides of living in a town or city (or some villages) are pikeys. The best way to describe these people is this: when you see a clump of them arguing on a street corner, you are tempted to mow them down with your car. They have a common look involving leisure wear shoplifted from JD Sports over sallow-toned skin and an emaciated frame. They are usually no younger than 20 but no older than 45 (their only advantage being a low life expectancy.) These are the people who shout and argue outside Lidl or Farmfoods, they have a nasal plaintiff pitch to their voice, one that immediately invites a punch in the face.

More over, they are of no net use to society (unless you compare and contrast their existence with your own, an exercise which will instantly make you feel better about yourself.) If a brainy person was to invent an in utero test to detect the presence of the pikey gene, the offending fetus could be aborted before sullying society with its presence.

In terms of quality of life when living in the city, these people for me are the single most annoying factor, they lower the tone needlessly.

Another factor is gossip. I spent time in a small village and it was rife, the funniest thing I ever heard was one confirmed gossip telling me (without irony) not to speak to another person because they were a gossip. (The notion that blog posts are a form of gossip is not lost on me before you accuse me of hypocrisy.) Living in the city means gossip is not possible, there seems to be a critical mass of population after which gossip ceases to exist, I don't know what the figure would be and geography has a lot to do with it to I suppose. People can be nasty though and the malicious gossip (even if its unintentional) for me means smaller villages are not good places to live. It's to easy to get drawn into the internecine politics of the place, what starts off as harmless chat becomes an exchange of information then ends up being a full on brief behind a persons back, like a trial being carried out in camera with out the knowledge of the accused.

Cities on the other hand (pikeys not-with-standing) are just to busy for gossip so have that working for them. Having takeaways on your doorstep is no bad thing either, well, it is and it isn't. Its handy but it makes you fat and lazy. (Referring back to my last blog post, I would have starved or died in a fire were it not for them.)

So, that leaves us with the middle of no where. A farm house or croft perhaps with no neighbours for miles around, is that the answer? I can't lie, I'd be bored stiff and I'd probably go a bit mad. I have this picture of myself sometime in the future riding a horse into the nearest village for my newspaper and rolls, or maybe on a cow, you mock but it would be good for tourism and would serve as a focal point for the residents. They could gossip about me to their hearts content but since I'd be living in a yurt in the middle of no where I'd never hear about it.

I think on balance I'm going to aim for an abode in the middle of no where or a mid-sized village next, one that is to big for gossip but not to big to have pikeys. Who knows, if I find a property with some land I might get that cow so I can go for my messages, I think cows are cheaper than horses to keep and if you become dissatisfied with it in any way; you can just eat it.