No Tree Falls in London (or Life Outside the Big City)
When my father tried to go to work today, an obstinate thunderstorm wiped out the power in the small... well, we'll call it a 'hamlet' in order to make it sound romantic, shall we? The house is huddled among some others back in a woods, and there's only one real way in and out.
Today, after getting into his suit and thinking he'd be on for a meeting about a hundred miles away, he found the storm had knocked a three-foot thick tree trunk across his path.
So it was back home, out of the suit, into some jeans, and out with the chainsaw. About an hour and a week's worth of firewood later, it was time to head off for the meeting.
There's one thing I never worry about in London or New York.
