It has been many long years since I craved luxury, if I ever did. My mother used to tell people I didn’t care about “that stuff” … even when I was young. I was surprised that she had noticed because it was true. I wanted things that were interesting and different, but luxury never entered into it.
In this part of my life, we live in a home that is more than enough for our need. It’s a bit too big, really. It contains twice as many rooms as we need and too many stairs. But it’s comfortable (excepting the stairs). It is sufficiently isolated so we can use it as a hideout for two not-s0-sociable people who do not crave close neighbors. A friendly chat by the mailbox is enough.
When we travel, I don’t look for luxury, unless you count cleanliness and good…
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