Life at № 42
We were invited to dinner last night. It was lovely. Everything was beautiful, everyone amusing, the food was superb. Today the weather was glorious, 18 degrees and sun. Now the moon is shining on the pool and the sky is incredibly clear- just stunning. We’re now invited to lunch and/or dinner every day until we leave. Busyness keeps the nostalgia away (which is a good thing). Except at night.
This is my last weekend in my house. The place in the world where I’ve been the happiest. Villa l’Africaine was my baby. So much has happened here. I don’t know what the future will bring, but if it’s anything like the past 15 years, I’ll be okay. Mike seems incredibly confident in my abilities (which I find rather frightening. )
Looking back, it’s all been quite wonderful- the good and the bad. An explosion of living, or many explosions, to be precise. A meek and mild existence was never a consideration.
In other news, I LOVE the car. Even better, the dogs love the car. We took out three of the seven seats so they can walk around. We also put floor cushions down. The leather upholstery was done beautifully. And we can just wipe mud/dirt off very easily. It’s perfect.
Tomorrow we pack the blackamoor, the mirrors, and everything we’re going to be using at the temporary rental- and that’s it. Then we eat and drink a lot, and leave Thursday evening. It takes longer to drive through Seville, but that’s how I want to go. Seville, Madrid, Irun and then we’re in France.
And as I sat chewing fuet at the penthouse in Marbella- fifteen years ago, I still had no idea life could turn out to be so extraordinary.