Well yeah, some city slickers aren't to the wilderness born

I’m a (Ralph Lauren) lumberjack, and I’m okay! Well, sort of. Maybe.

“I fled New York, and it was the worst decision of my life”

Turns out, not all New Yorkers are cut out for country living.

“I was definitely not in farm-shape when I got there,” said Thacher, who volunteered at a friend’s organic farm for four and a half months.

And so after testing out life in Massachusetts, Vermont and Beacon in upstate New York, Thacher settled on, well, Brooklyn.

“I missed the diversity and my Jewish community,” said Thacher, who runs a digital marketing company.

“It’s just so easy to walk places without having to plan things out. You can stumble upon bars or restaurants and not be on a script here.”

And here’s another:

Noelle, a 32-year-old commercial real estate developer, recently decamped to Whitefish, Mont., with her partner and their two young children.

Thankfully, they still have the keys to their Gramercy place.

“I miss talking to the doormen in the morning when I walk my dog,” said Noelle, who declined to give her last name for privacy reasons. “I miss going outside and being able to talk to people.”

In a previous post on the phenomenon of New Yorkers invading and buying property in the northernmost reaches of Maine, I predicted that their first bleak winter in Caribu would drive them back home. It didn’t occur to me to mention Whiteface, Montana, but it looks like Noelle is discovering that truth on her own.

(Addendum: Reader Anton Fitch points out that I omitted the best part, from below the fold):

Even her toddler can’t wait to return to his cosmopolitan routine.

Said Noelle: “My son looked at me one day and said, ‘Mommy, I miss sushi.’ ”

Before they retreat to Park Slope, is it too late to teach Noelle and her toddler how to fish? As Confuscious says, “give a boy a tuna roll and you feed him for a day. Teach a boy to ice fish and to carry a filleting knife and you feed him for a lifetime”