Things You Only Know When You've Moved To The Country
You think nothing of cooking supper with your knickers drying all over the Aga.
You don’t know your neighbours because you can’t find them.
A clutch is NOT a crucial accessory when you go out for the evening. Wellies and a head torch are.
Long life milk still exists and it’s in your food cupboard. Sorry. Larder.
Taxis are not a spontaneous event. The local cab must be booked at least 2 weeks in advance. *deletes Uber app.. weeps*
The phone ringing no longer sparks dread. You long for the thing to ring. Even if it’s PPI. It’s still a voice.
Ambushing the postman is a daily sport. You can force at least 5 minutes’ chat out of him before he makes a break for it.
You check coffee supplies more than you check Instagram (it’s a 30-minute round trip to the nearest beans y’know).
You’re an eco-fraud. Yes you’ve spent years worrying about air and road miles. Now? Not so much. If Prime can deliver, you’re good.
Talking to yourself is no longer acceptable. With all this silence in the countryside it feels too much like A SIGN.
People walk into your house unannounced. Before you hear them knock they’re in your kitchen calling “Yoo-hoo!” Sometimes charming, sometimes alarming.
Homespun gifts are de rigueur. Eggs from the hens (SO prolific!), boxes of plums (we simply can’t get through them all!), jam (from the last of the rasps). You MUST reciprocate. If desperate, steam labels off Bon Maman and replace with child’s wonkily written ones.
You spend more time than you’d like to admit thinking about post-and-rail fences and biomass boilers. WTF?
You will never have to parallel park again *shudders with relief*
The DHD/Yodel man is monosyllabic because he hates you. He has just driven 10 miles along single track roads to deliver this small package which may or may not be a Pritt stick.
The septic tank is an obsession. What if someone flushes the wrong thing? Should I laminate ‘Polite Notice’ signs? Do people on mains sewage even KNOW how lucky they are?
You only take your coat off when you go to bed.
People suggest a dog walk rather than coffee. When you say you don’t have a dog they struggle to look you in the eye again.
You used to watch YouTube videos on plucking eyebrows. Now you watch ones on fucking (sorry – plucking) pheasants.
75% of your wardrobe is dead. Farewell slouchy jumpsuit. Swishy skirt. Anything in suede.
You must be handy at everything from tiling to tree planting. If you get-a-man-in, do so under cover of darkness and admit it to no one.
You judge all your townie friends on how helpful/charming/demanding they are as a house guest. And on the quality of goodies they bring.
The chap who delivers milk and eggs also stocks chocolate in his van. Who knew.
You can freeze pretty much anything. Nuts. Milk. Bananas. Egg. Oranges. Avocados. On this last point, you also need to make sure you get out more.