Another broadcast from your favourite blogger as she sits on the shady porch/deck or whatever, listening to the soft tones of a lawn cutter as it does it rounds in the garden and composing her luxury blog.. Not just today, but every day this luxury wonder, known as Mowey, does his job ensuring that no blade grows taller than its neighbour. Of course Mowey had his price, he was not cheap, but if he was cheap you would be suspicious. Is he reliable or not, can you count on him, although an actual birth certificate did not arrive when you bought him, you had a guarantee that he would remain faithful for a many years. He is now approaching his third year in the Angloswiss household and is reliable. Note he is referred to as “he”. Over the past years he has become one of the family. Now and again he has a pause when it is raining. Even real live humans do not mow a lawn if it is wet and we only have to feed him on new blades and some oil now and again.
During the winter he gets a well deserved rest, away from the daily tasks. His electric points are insulated and his various limbs are oiled to protect him and keep the rust away. He has a place to hibernate in the cellar where he can rest and dream of the days when he will again be in action. He is a necessary luxury, now an irreplaceable luxury. Never again mow your lawn if you have a mowey. Our neighbours even have a plastic lawn, but they do not hear the comforting purrs of a satisfied mowey as he completes his path leaving the remains of the cut grass behind him, which serves as fertiliser in the process. What could be better. I am not spoilt, just happy to have a mowey.
And now to another scene of my luxury life. As I was preparing to rise after my midday golden oldie sleep, I could already hear the sound of organisation in the next room. It was the assembly of an ironing board, a welcome sound. Mr. Swiss had also completed his midday rest and was looking for action. What could be better than exercising the brain and body. There was a remainder of yesterday’s washing to be ironed and he decided to approach this task
It is the system applied and care he is taking when ironing just a plain kitchen cloth. Not only are the creases flattened, but it is afterwards folded for a neat look when it is placed on the pile of the other cloths in the linen cupboard. There was no harm done to the iron during the photography of this action, and I got express permission from Mr. Swiss to show this action photo. Of course I also help with this job, but it is only pure luxury when someone else does it for me without waiting to be asked. I would add that his accomplishment of shirt ironing is also perfect, although in the senior age of golden oldie-ism, shirts are a relique of the past. No longer needed. The office days are long gone when this part of the uniform, complete with tie, were necessary. Today a simple t-shirt does the job, and these can be ironed or not according to the wish of the wearer. I like mine ironed, some find carefully hanging them on a hanger on the wash stand to dry also does the job quite well. Unfortunately I have no action photos of Mr. Swiss hanging up his t-shirts, but he is very good at it.
And now we leave our hard working blogger who has completed her first prompt of the day. In the meanwhile she has devoured a banana and Mr. Swiss has disappeared, recovering from the exertions of the ironing operation.
My definition of luxury today, speaking from the point of view of a retired golden oldie, do what you want to do and not what you have to. Often these two aspects of life cannot be separated, but they can be combined to make life more pleasant. Today I have to clean the last remaining blind on the sunny side of my appartment. The other two I did yesterday, together with Mr. Swiss. I do not have to do it, but I want to do it. It is all a matter of psychology. Yes Sigmund would be proud of me.