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Friday, 9 April 2010

Calm


Now that I've found a few pieces of Georgian furniture, it would be appropriate to use them in my fantasy house, and this picture shows what that might look like. No castle for me, thank you very much. (Sorry Pigtown Design.) My experience of castle life is that unless you have plenty of bodies around, (and preferably live ones), it can be a bit of a waste of space, and a very expensive exercise heating the wretched place in the less than friendly weather, which judging by last summer's experience, does not confine itself to the obvious winter months.

This house has everything - beautifully laid out in divine symmetry, and apparently secluded. Well, let's say it's totally secluded, as it's my fantasy. And whilst I'm on that subject, isn't privacy and seclusion the most luxurious thing money can buy? I'm finding the older I get that I almost take on the characteristics of a recluse. Unless I'm in a good mood, a trip to the department store or to the supermarket is not the joy I once thought it was. Well, actually that's not true. I never thought these things were a joy, but they were less worse. It's the mixing with the great unwashed, in all their (in) glory. And don't get me started on travelling.

Well, alright then, if you insist. The peasants are revolting (again) scenes from downtown Bangkok have encouraged us to venture into the tiresome world of international travel. But not too onerous, just a quick break to the nearby island of Penang. But not an immediate one, as the Thai new year, Songkran, begins on Tuesday next week, and unofficially tonight with many residents taking the whole week off and incorporating two weekends. So, given my distaste for mixing with the hoi polloi, travelling during this period would be complete madness. More importantly seats on aircraft are well nigh impossible to find. But my point here is that no matter which class of travel you book, (and for any long distance we always choose the pointy end), flying is one of the most undignified forms of punishment known to man. It's always a means to an end, no matter how comfortable the Shanghai Tang pajamas, or the bed made up by the stewardess, and your clothes and chattels hung in your own private closet.

Is it obvious that I need a break?

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