This is lighthearted. I've had a series of unfortunate events in the last year and have moved to a very deprived area with a lot of social problems, which is probably causing me to fantasise a bit more than usual. Subscribed to Country Living magazine on a whim as it was very heavily discounted. One of the highlights of the month is hearing it fall on the doorstep and I have to grab it quickly before it gets stolen. It provides wonderful escapism, the sky is blue all year around, everyone is sooo happy washing rocks in rivers and the animals are never PITAs, unlike my pets. No one ever has money problems, and the cost of living is an afterthought as sustainability and self-equilibrium are the utmost priority.
Women have lovely, fulfilling jobs that "they stumbled upon entirely by accident" eg Jilly, who was always very frustrated by the lack of solar heated plant pots for her oriental orchids that she fell in love with on her travels in SE Asia, and one day whilst walking her collie-cross dog Shep in her 50 acre paddock, she stepped in wild horse dung and had the wonderful idea to give up her full time job and start a sustainable business making her own handmade pots from dung. She did the completely obvious thing of untying her neck scarf, filling it up with as much dung as she could find, and carried it back to her 6th century renaissance 12 bedroom house, where her husband Robert greeted her with a warm smile at the site of her Dick Whittington style knapsack, and immediately started building her a cosy workshop-cum-snug where she hosts the local edible flower supper club 3 nights a week, when she's not up to her elbows in excrement. She had no idea if her £199 pots would take off, and was most shocked when she had 10,000 orders in her first week.
No one needs a business plan or a budget, peace of mind and a sense of zen is much more important than bringing in a wage. Forty two year old Carol was so stressed by her teaching job that she just handed in her notice and planted 40,000 carrots in her small holding. Originally intended to be a business, Carol admits sheepishly that she's so fond of each one (who she has given names to) that she cannot bear to part with them. "My husband Marcus jokes that they are my babies", she laughs, "but in reality it's true. These carrots have regulated my sensory nervous system, which the daily grind of work had just worn away. I simply had to give in to what my body was telling me. Watching each and every one of them grow and develop their own little personalities is nature's way of giving back to me".
First world problems keep these people awake at night, such as 31 year old Jackie, who couldn't find curtains for the nursery that reflected the personality of her unborn son. "I really sensed that he he felt a deep connection with the Ottoman empire, and I was just flabbergasted at the lack of relevant material on the market", she laments. At 39 weeks, she jumped upon a flight to Istanbul, after having a dream that the perfect print was in Topkapi Palace. "Everyone thought I was utterly mad", she laughs, but when she was hypnotized by the Turkish style tulip motif tiles in the palace state room, baby Freddie shot out of her uterus, confirming to her that this was the perfect print for the nursery. Three hours after giving birth she opened her business designing bespoke curtains for equally distressed parents-to-be. "They understood the stress as they were undergoing the same thing. Being able to relate to them really helped me zone into what it was that they really wanted. Sometimes words aren't enough, you have to be able to finely tune stress signals others are giving out in order to see their vision". Jackie (and baby Freddie) now work out of her garden studio, and she has been commissioned by the Royal Family to produce the perfect print for sash window in King Charles' water closet. "Every morning I wake up with a warmth that radiates throughout my body, and I love that Freddie has input in my work, this is all because of him, really".
AIBU to want to a job like this? Where everything is a lovely colour and all the materials are made of earthen clay and rare plant dyes? No money problems, no annoying customers, no bins that haven't been lifted by the council (there's no need for a bin anyway, all rubbish is fully compostable). Do people really have a business where people pay to meditate with sheep, or is Country Living an entertaining work of fiction?