Seems like I can never get enough of houses in France, especially those which belong to writers and artists. I’m ranking them in order of luxury. Some of them appear to have come from moneyed backgrounds, others seem to have made a fortune from their work… or perhaps houses were much cheaper back then. Here’s to hoping!
What do you get the house-owner who has everything? Well, perhaps one of life’s extra luxuries, such as one of these:
Or perhaps just that stalwart favourite: a library with a sliding ladder?
No, sorry, my mistake! That isn’t a luxury, that is a necessity, of course.
What would be your little (or big) home luxury, if money were no object?
Each evening she finishes her meal
with a small cube of cheese on a stale piece of bread.
Dry is better for digestion, protects against wind.
Calcium is good for the bones.
In winter she moves the chair closer to the electric fire,
which she leaves on for just three hours a day.
She does not hold with showers, a bath every four days suffices,
sluicing down all water marks with a damp cloth.
She brushes her teeth with an eggtimer
and flosses every chink, quietly, mercilessly.
Then, before she lays down her head on the starched pillow,
she carefully pouts her lips
and frames them with the scarlet luxurious ooze
of Chanel’s True Red.
findingtimetowrite 