It’s been pelting with rain all day. I am sure this is not the first such post I start on here with those exact same words but it hits different right now because we are edging towards the end of November and the light is less and less and when it’s raining like this, one frankly needs lamps on all day.
Yesterday I was scrolling through the wonderful feed of Cecilia on Insta and I am simply enchanted by life so near the north pole. Those who know me will be wondering how someone like me would ever cope with a lack of Harrods or Deliveroo or fill-in-the-blank but, actually, if I had the opportunity to up sticks and follow in the footsteps of Cecilia, I absolutely would do it in a heartbeat.
The other night I even dreamed I lived there, that’s how seriously I’ve been thinking of it for quite some time. The only shred of advantage one has when being a tenant and, arguably, the only advantage, is the ability to move at a month’s notice. The unshackling myself from this place wouldn’t be difficult at all.
But how on earth does one pick a place close to the north pole and actively sticks a fork on a map whilst triumphantly yelling HERE? How does one move to a place like that, and I don’t mean how can I pack books and have them shipped over [that’s easy] but rather how does one gets a place and a relevant job in such a place? As my immensely pragmatic brain seeks pointers and solutions and certainty, my heart is also imagining little old me running a candle store, with greying Saffy roaming on the shopfloor in her puffa jacket.
Maybe all of this is a little extreme. Maybe I could choose Maine and experience a fair enough winter without living, as it were, at the back end of nowhere. But even so… the north pole… it would be like Christmas every day for me. Blimey.