Thursday, 30 September 2010

On leaving the country, juvenile aspirations, and trying to stop your child opening the emergency exit 2 miles up in the air

Three more weeks to go and the realisation has not quite set in yet.
Everything's packed (a fact my two and a half year old son is not too impressed with) and we're ready to go and take up the trade of farming in Brazil... Well... for two months at least (or however long the missus can put up with living with her mother). After that I guess I'll have to get a 'proper' job if there is such a thing.

I guess you could say the idea to become a farmer kicked off somewhere around the age of three for me. My parents on a long road trip to Yorkshire (which involved several incidence of vomiting on my behalf. Mostly in my sister's lap, so it was fine) started playing the 'what do you want to be when you're older' game