So what do you do. In the middle of a mid-life crisis when two of your best friends arrive on your doorstep and announce out of the blue they are emigrating.
Yes we’re off.
New f***** Zealand?
Yeh come on.
Oh God it is isn’t it?
2 hours later a lot of chat a lot of wine and frankly I am ready to roll, pack the bin liner and run.
Problem is it’s not a bin liner any more. It’s standing orders, direct debits, broadband and TV contracts, schools, dogs, cars, homes, uprooting, saying farewell to friends, family, my local pub. It dawns on me at this age it’s visceral. What started as meaningless minutea has become a hot pumping blood line to my heart. It’s all we have. It’s us. How did that happen?