Saturday 17th July 2010, 6.30 pm:
Reluctantly I drag myself off my sun-lounger and back into my loggia. The sun is now dipping behind the roof of a house that sits diagonally to my sunspot at the end of my garden.
It’s bloody irritating. I wish I could level that house or at least bring it down to bungalow level – then I’d have the sun until it finally went down. Grrrrr!!! I had a brother-in-law worked for NATO. I was rather hoping he could sort it out, but he let me down. Harrumph!
After a week of changeable weather, this afternoon finally came warm and bright. So I’ve just enjoyed a lovely couple of hours or so on my sun lounger with my book and BBC Radio 4. Aaaah!
I get enormous amounts of pleasure from small pleasures such as these. This is probably just as well given that I’m now semi-retired (for that read unemployed) and so a tad short on the cash to splash!
One of the things I love best in the world is the feeling of the sun on my body. Not when it’s really hot and burny but when it’s gently warm and caressing. It’s especially lovely when it’s the first Sun of the spring; the one that has chased away the dull, dark, grey, the chill of winter and it’s warm enough to potter around unfettered by layers of clothing. When it’s warm enough to lay down in a sheltered spot and feel the sun’s fingers, aided by a gentle loving breeze; the kind that strokes and caresses.
It’s soothing, relaxing, and sensual – like the touch of a lover. But probably better in that one doesn’t get those annoying curly hairs all over the bathroom floor and someone is snoring in bed. Other than one’s self that is. However, I digress. Let’s return to the purple prose!
My daughter loves to say that my favourite thing to do is ‘dragging’. By that she means re-arranging the garden and my loggia. And she’s right. I do. I don’t know why it should be, but I do get the most in-ordinate amount of pleasure from it. It’s much more fun than housework! 🙂 I’d have to say if I’m feeling down, a couple of hours of concerted dragging will usually do the trick. If it doesn’t then, there’s something seriously wrong for sure!
My ‘loggia’ is a room on the back of my house. It’s not quite a conservatory, but it’s more than a lean-to having sides and screens across it. What it really is is an ‘indoor-outdoor room’ so I call it my loggia. And I love it.
It’s completely different to the rest of the house. It has a wooden floor made from pallets and is full of kitsch fairy lights, metal signs and souvenirs from holidays. There’s a vibrant coloured metal gecko from Spain, pictures from Hawaii and all sorts of stuff. It’s not everyone’s taste, but it’s mine and I get so much pleasure from it.
When it’s not quite warm enough to be in the garden I sit in here, where I can see it and listen to the radio or read, or dine or do what I’m doing now which is to mess about on my netbook. The netbook is a recent acquisition and is something else that I love – along with a wireless network. I mean, how much better can it get than to be able to sit in the garden with the sun on my body, typing and surfing with a nice cold beer? Surely wi-fi has to be up there with the microwave oven, dishwashers and the contraceptive pill as being amongst man’s finest achievements?
The garden is a little bit Mediterranean in style. It’s evolved over the years I’ve been in this house into a low-maintenance garden with Palms and Phormiums and Cordylines, etc. with gravel and slabs and decking. And I love this too! I love the Med but can’t be there as much as I’d like so, in my garden and my loggia I can pretend. 🙂