Welcome to the Village

I've spent my entire life living in or near major cities. I've never lived more than a ten minute drive from a Target or a mall or more than an hour away from an airport. Never, ever, ever in my life did I ever imagine that I would live in the country- in another country- in England. That all changed when I said "yes" to my then-boyfriend's proposal. Now, we live in a seaside village in the rural north of England.   Before I came here, no one told me that-

• if you run out of ibuprofen and want to take something for your headache before bed…sorry! The pharmacy closes at 5:30.
• if traffic made you late, it's probably because you were stuck behind a tractor.
• if you're getting ready for the day, it probably isn't in the bathroom. There aren't any electrical outlets in there and there's a window where the mirror should be behind the sink. That's a tough one.

However...

• if you're too lazy to bake your own homemade bread, good news! There's fifth generation baker down the street. She'll hook you up.
• if you fancy a drink at 11am, that's ok. The pub is open! They might even serve breakfast. No one will bat an eye if you bring your dog, or your baby for that matter.
• if you really need to get out of town, there's a train station nearby. London is never more than five hours away (except for Scottish Highlands and Isles, Scilly, and the Isle of Man-but that's a typical British exclusion.)

Village life! It's simultaneously charming, quaint, frustrating, and hilarious… and I wouldn't have it any other way. But I wouldn't complain if they built a Target nearby either.