With the winter solstice already behind us and the days getting longer and warmer, albeit still with the occasional cold spell, it's tempting to reclaim my place in the sun by the sliding door in the hallway near the verandah. That beautiful view of the river simply can no longer be ignored.
I really ought to do some serious de-cluttering, not just in the hallway but also in the rest of the house, and in the workshop, and in the horseshed, and in the library, and in the pond house, and in the cottage, and in "Melboune", and ... and ... and ... , but it's probably never going to happen. When the day comes, Vinnies may have to open another shop just to accommodate all the books and the bric-a-brac and the trophies from travels past, not to mention the furniture and the paintings and the genuine Persian and silk carpets, and all the machinery and tools in the workshop, the detritus of a long life aimlessly lived without a plan.
"Have a garage sale!" I hear you say, but I don't need the money nor the aggravation of seeing some unique and priceless object being beaten down to just a few dollars by some greedy bargain-hunter. Better that it all go to a charity and perhaps find a new home with someone who really needs it and appreciates it. Until that happens, I shall sit here and look out on the river, if I'm not writing this blog or reading a book.
I think I can hear the lunchtime tourist boat approaching. I usually step out onto the verandah and give them a casual wave which the skipper answers with a short 'toot-toot' on the ship's horn. I can almost hear the tourists starring at me saying "I wish I could live there" or words to that effect. Of course, they could live here --- if they don't mind the clutter!
