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Les gens qui ne rient jamais ne sont pas des gens sérieux

Be who you are and say what you mean, those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind

Thursday, July 06, 2006

Our Warsaw Holiday

After an afternoon spent snacking on popcorn and cream soda, we lounged outside our temporary home, the dark held at bay by a single candle.

I recounted my day that had consisted entirely of reading in the garden under the shade of the fruit trees, and a pleasant half hour with the hose soaking the bright flowers and giving the new grass its share of water to recover after the day's scorching sun.

He told me the latest office news, offering bits of information which I gobbled up greedily after my lazy day of no contact with living creatures other than the dogs. They are the reason for being back in this house, this large American house with its root beer and hershey's chocolate.

We talked and sipped beer, relishing the evening's cool after the heat of the day and swatting at mosquitoes. I had my legs up, feet on his armrest and his hand rested on my knee, comfortable and relaxed, the stars and unfamiliar surroundings giving the impression we were on a real holiday.

We returned to our favourite topic of conversation, our new place, and discussed paint colours and furniture.

Afterwards, walking about the house, locking doors and setting alarms, I thought of the residents, on a holiday the other side of the world. I compared our compact future flat with their vast expanse of rooms and thought about how it is too big for real life. My real life at any rate.

For now though, it's just perfect, a holiday without the inconvenience of travel.

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