Petrol Fuelled Life
I think we are not too far from the point where petroleum goes up to a price that I can't afford, where I have to purchase myself a pony and cart to get about.
I’d look quite dashing don’t you think? I can see me cantering about town in a trap, sporting a whip, yelling “Yee Haa” “Mush” “Whoa there Nelly” (My pony’s name would be Nelly).
I might even purchase a bonnet. A jolly blue bonnet, with a big bow tied under my chin. And one of those lacy umbrellas to keep the sun of my delicate complexion, and swat the wandering hands of grooms and blacksmiths and other horse associated folks.
And I’d take to wearing hoop skirts and saying “Thee” and “Whence” “Hitherto” and “Erstwhile” and other lovely old-fashioned words that nerds like me love. And I shall begin to write all my letters on vellum and seal them with wax and send them by post, on a steam ship.
And I’d cook scones, and tongue, or roasts with three veg all done in a big ol’ woodfired Aga. And I shall drink tea made from real tea leaves, brewed with a gum leaf, over a fire, with scantily clad shearers who will moderate their language because there’s a lady on the floor.
Man, I can’t wait for the petrol to go up and my new life to begin!!

And then you turn and run away down the country lane to your horse (Nelly) and buggy, and a buggy chase ensues, and I rescue you just before you plunge over a ravine...
Except in the breathless moments afterward, I declare that I have Necrotizing Fascitis of the Lower Brain Stem and must wander the world, alone until such time as I am cured and can return to you a whole man. (also because I turn green when I get angry... it\'s a whole thing).
Then you cry, and I act stoic and walk off into the sunset (but then I cry, and not just because I just stubbed my toe).
Yeah, the price of petrol sucks at the moment.