I could live in New York, or any large city for that matter, for I like the bustling about, the museums, the libraries, the concert halls, the restaurants, the ethnic communities…yes, I could live in a city.
……….I could live in a loft there, or in a high-rise apartment building that sat square in a business/shopping area…or by Central park.
………………………I could live in a hotel in a city, and if it were in San Francisco, I would walk to the cable car stop, hop aboard and browse around town for the day. And if my grand kids were visiting, I would take them too, and we would eat ice cream cones and chocolate from Ghirardilli Square, and at Fisherman’s Wharf, we would buy fish and chips from a street vendor. A loaf of sour dough bread would find itself tucked beneath my arm, and when I tore off a piece and offered it to said grandchildren, they would roll their eyes, cast about to see who was looking, say, “Oh, Granny,” and take a bite. Wish we had butter, I would say to them.
I could live in the country, not too far removed from a city or an airport, but the real country with dirt roads and corn fields and tractors.
I could live on a cruise ship for a year–perhaps forever.
I could live on a university campus or a Bible school campus, and I would pull on my coolest sunglasses and walk about with the students and they would pet me and take me on as a mascot.
I could live on a ranch. I could live in Alaska for one winter, or, if I had a good copy of Paddington, I might even take on deepest, darkest Peru.
Where could you live?