Friday, 27 July 2018
Why life is a beach...
On the afternoon of THAT day, I filled the bath with warm water, bathed and towelled up. But I did not unplug the bath; no, I left the scented pool in situ, and I spent the evening dipping in and out, refreshing and relaxing as the fancy took me, between taskes on the settee, sipping iced water and contemplating pages of print. I had dissed off other options - beaches, parks, squares - as involving merciless sun and murderous public transport. With the kitchen nearby, and a ready supply of teabags and milk, bread and salad, drinks and snacks were ever at hand. Take one couch, a tower fan and jug of warer - why, life is a beach, and I love to lie upon it....
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