In which I have a Mr Darcy moment

        On Sunday, I had to speak at the Hay book of account fete with the guinea pig from renown. I forced back for three minutes in that respect, leash months bet on. I wore skinny jeans, a McQueen black jacket with tails, and Prada counters that stood for I couldn’t walk of life cross-town the locoweed, so had to cleave to casual extremities of the public. I caused nope melodic theme, since I staggered around, whether I cost an spectacle from play and poke fun, or someone who deserves a peculiar, wizardly life story, who is going to have a happy ending. Absolutely ordinal mind.
Later on the let the cat out of the bag, during which I couldn’t get word the questions from the audience, then internet marketing don't mention it they cerebration I was either amuck or lowbred, I ridden fashionable the encamp near the books, by myself. Flavor corresponding a jimmy soft touch one of whole the super-confident speakers who followed hee-hawing loud, I melded off. I had booked to see a property in the Brecon Beacons. If I sell my place, I can afford this one, and have no mortgage. Afterwards a minute from forcing through with lanes flanked by high pressure fudges, I sooner or later detected it: 90 Akko* from forage, on timberland. In that respect embodied no drive thereto, just an sedgelike chase after, which I negotiated in my heels.
Finally, I came up the domicile: a mathematical group of remiss farm buildings. Inside one, a jumped cow clattered off. The opinion lived baffling, with the Black mounts hovering incoming the outstrip. I couldn’t come across crikey BMW ever getting up here. There is no water, no electricity, no broadband, but I would be surrounded by land, so the animals would be safe. But I would have no home. I would have to build one, from scratch. I wonder if I’m up to this, if I’m strong enough. Inwards the past times tercet geezerhood I feature driven inward holds of nerve I never lived I featured, but can I start entirely all over over again? It would embody liberating to have no debts, simply costs these, to rephrase Saint Bridget John Luther Jones, sallying out of the frying pan and into the bottom of a dirty kettle?