This is not my beautiful house

I looked away earlier when I spied a familiar face in town. I couldn't have just smiled and said "Hi!".
It required questions; "how are you, how's work, are you still married to that man who wears suit trousers even on the weekend (his name escapes me)?"

I was consumed with guilt immediately after walking past, and considered cutting my jaunt short, lest I'm faced with the far more awkward scenario;  "I didn't see you earlier when I gave you eye contact, but now I've LITERALLY bumped into you, I suppose it's time for us to  chat"

Of course, the other person always feels exactly the same, but the Human Traffic bar exchange scene (above) never takes place.

I couldn't go home though, it would have caused upset.Ricky is convinced that wishing wells really work, he saw it on TV, so it must be true. When Ricky wants to do something, it invariably ends up happening, his nagging is probably akin to Chinese water torture. We were to source a well and throw pennies in.

This is the best I could do

It went down well as you can imagine. Not a well, no water - it had to do.



As he complained, I looked up at the market roof, the patched-up panes of glass looked like little works of art to me

I knew how Ricky felt. I remember my brother wanting to ride on a magic carpet, he thought they actually existed. A stall opened on the market when he was about 6, it sold rugs, and was called Magic Carpets - he thought his chance had finally arrived.

 It was a crystal ball for me, I couldn't imagine anything more fascinating. I also wanted a musical jewellery box with a ballerina inside who would come to life when I opened it and tell me nice things.

I imagined when I was an adult I'd have one of those large wooden globes which opens up to reveal a selection of spirits,  a cabinet with glass shelves and lights housing a selection of crystal oysters, teddies, dolphins and flowers (just like my 'posh' friend). Maybe a fibre-optic lamp too, and an ashtray on a marble stand, the type which  crushes the cigarette butts, because of course, everyone smokes when they're older. Oh, and  Jacuzzi bath - that'd be essential, and a swinging seat out the back.

As I grew up, I wanted a phrenology head, an antique dressing table,  Kenwood food chef, a sub-woofer in the car, a walk-in wardrobe, a traditional Welsh dresser full of junk, a dishwasher.

Steerforth's post this week showed a selection of post-wine consumption purchases that have been languishing in his wardrobe. At some point, an item will catch our attention, and  it ends up in our possession even though, deep down,we know there is no 'need' for it.

So, I look around my home - there isn't a  globe drinks cabinet, phrenology head, Welsh dresser, or Kenwood Chef  to be seen.  In their place is what could only be described as stuff.  I can't remember wanting, needing or buying the majority of it, I've acquired it.

At no point did I say "what this house REALLY needs is a low quality table with 3 chairs instead of 4. At least one chair should collapse every time someone weighing over 5 stone sits on it. In the kitchen, I'd like a 12 pack of Andrex toilet roll to rest on top of the units, and for this to be a permanent feature. In the boys' room, I'd like the wardrobe, which mum's neighbour gave to me, to display 40 hideous teddy bears, gifts from the older family members. They'll collect the dust perfectly".

Perhaps I should have kept my visions alive and made those purchases, particularly a Welsh dresser.

Of course, I did bump into that person again, and exchanged the required pleasantries. 

"I wanna move to be honest Luce, the house is getting me down"

I ALWAYS wanted to live in her house since learning about their history at  primary school

"The furniture looks all wrong in there Luce"

I doubt her furniture looks as wrong as mine.

Maybe I'm best carrying on as I am. No regretful purchases as yet. 

Have you bought something you always wanted?

"this is not my beautiful house"