While we were moving, and for a couple of days afterwards I realised I was craving decadence, and luxury (perhaps understandably!)
I’m not one to be unhappy with our fantastically lucky lives but.. I just wanted to be taken care of.
Quiet. White beaches. Folded white towels. Swimming in a huge pool, alone. Trillions of choices at every meal.
Strawberries on a platter with champagne, served by men with white gloves (this actually happened one time, at the races). Scones. Plush green grass, with white tables and floral crockery. Sir, Madam.
I think it was to do with discovering our new place didn’t have a dishwasher- I don’t really believe things can be clean if they’re not heated to boiling temperature in a nice shiny machine. But it’s actually working out ok- and it means you never run out of cutlery, because you wash up after each meal. It also means I don’t hate washing up anymore, which is strange, but I used to leave things in the sink for days and hated finally turning my hand to them when I was forced to.
It was also because I had a shower on the second night (not the first- as there were fish in tubs in the bath), and discovered that some the grouting was almost black with dirty mouldyness. It made me feel like I was in some awful hostel bathroom, trying to get the shower over as quickly as possible. I’ve since discovered the solution- only showering with my glasses off. I should also just give it a big scrub- Boyfriend believes it will all come out in the wash, so to speak.
It also might be because I went in to M+S on the way home one day.. They have great advertising.
But the feeling has faded now. Thanks to a delicious indulgent strawberry non-alcoholic-daiquri drink, my boyfriend and unpacking all the boxes in the house. And we are going on a holiday in the not so distant future; to France in August with my family but that won’t really be … relaxing. Ha.
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