Monday, 18 October 2010


Sometimes, when I'm walking home at night, I pass the glass of an enourmous shop window exhibiting colourful imported rugs and hand-painted cabinents, and I think about money. How I sometimes wish I could just have an unlimited supply whenever I saw something beautiful.
I would like to arrange this with someone, make some kind of bargain that I wouldn't really live any differently. I wouldn't buy an expensive car, or real estate, or shares. I would just like the money to buy beautiful dresses, meters of bright fabric and goat's cheese when the urge arises.

I would suprise Salva with vintage instruments tied up with red ribbon, and send cases of Ribera to my parents.

I wouldn't even worry about the vaccuum cleaner, new hot water system, storage furniture, and baby apparel that we need. Yesterday there was a double bed on that list and today it is sorted.

Those things always work themselves out, the indian rugs never do.


  1. I think we all learn to live within our means, doesn't mean we can't dream though. Dreaming is nice. I actually think it would lose it's appeal, being able to buy whatever you wanted.

  2. I do like that wish of yours. I wouldn't take advantage either. I'd want the treasures to always feel like treasure.

  3. Methinks indian rugs will find their way to you. They have a way of sorting themselves just takes them longer

  4. 'Those things always work themselves out, the indian rugs never do. '

    ....i'm right there with you.


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