I plan to be where I am for some time to come (I’m in my twenties so obviously that means at least the next three years or so which is, like, ages) so the time may well have come to put some roots down. I don’t live in the same county I was born in nor where I went to university, I’ve been rootless for a little while.
When it comes to forging connections or installing yourself in the fabric of a new settlement there are plenty of the old standbys to resort to. You could join, or indeed found, some sort of social group. You know the sort of thing, a bunch of otherwise unrelated folk get together to discuss their mutual love of buttons, their destructive relationship with booze or devotion to their own personal Lord and saviour. Whatever. If you’re lucky, there might even be some booze to quaff or at the very least a decent cup of tea.
Otherwise, you can get involved with some variety of door to door campaign. That will certainly welcome you to their neighbourhood. Otherwise, there are street parties we definitely throw quite often in this outgoing and effusive nation. It’s all about getting to know the people who surround you and inserting yourself into their lives in a very permanent way.
If all that sounds terribly icky to you, especially if you’re afraid of finding out that the people situated close by are just downright unpleasant, you might want to focus in on your own abode. How could you want to leave your home when you’ve got it just the way you like it with matching décor and whatnot? Why not import a fast growing tree that will send tendrils down into the very earth in search of more water? You know, just if you fancied being overly literal about things for a change.
Put Your Roots Down – Stanley Odd