Giddy

Do you remember what Christmas or the first day of your summer holidays felt like when you were a child? Well, I do and this type of excitement is what I feel about my mother's new pool. Even though I had known about her plans, had seen the work in progress both live and on photos, seeing the finished masterpiece for the first time and realising its dimensions was unreal. It was as if aliens had abducted me and dropped me in the garden of some boutique hotel with a luxury pool. I arrived late on a Thursday night and had to try it out immediately. The next morning when I woke up before 6 a.m. I went swimming again. My mother heard me get up, go to the toilet, but not get back to my bed and got worried that I had an upset stomach or something. Nope, I was just giddy with excitement and as soon as I had seen the glistening water I knew I had to go for a swim. Mum was overjoyed that we (that weekend, Highflyer also came to visit, as did Bestie Boy) were overjoyed. We walked around with big grins on our faces every time we set foot in the garden. Back in Vienna, I really miss this luxury and am looking forward to taking my next dip.

There's Always a First Time

I have mentioned there that I recently got hooked on selling my old stuff on Vinted and I have now generated over 700 EUR in sales in less than 3 months. Not bad at all. The money you make first goes into a virtual "purse" with the platform's hidden agenda of course being that you don't transfer it to your bank account but rather spend it there. In the beginning I was not really tempted to do so, other than perhaps buy a bag or two as I could not imagine buying somebody else's "preloved" clothes, even if they were labelled as "brand new". What if they are smokers and did not mention that? What if their house smells like a garlicky frying pan? After a discussion with friends who are seasoned second-hand-buyers I was already less convinced when the argument "but in a shop you also don't know who all tried the things on and it's usually even more people" came up. Very true and I wash any clothes I buy new in a shop or online before first using them anyway. Then this top (see pictured) randomly popped up in my feed. It happened to match trousers I owned by the same brand and cost only 4 EUR. I did not even know these trousers that I bought 2 or 3 summers ago even came with a matching top, but I decided to take the plunge. I did not regret it and I ended up sending the seller this picture. She was delighted. Well, and I have already eaten my words and don't regret crossing that line into the receiving end of circular economy.

 

Forties Revisited

I just returned from four nights in Nice with Mademoiselle. I had missed Nice and the Côte d'Azur, last having been there the year I got married, i.e. in Spring 2022. Since my first vacation there with Mademoiselle back in 2009 I had returned many summers and in my forties I was there almost every August for at least a week with her and a growing number of other sun-seeking ladies. Mademoiselle and I even went during the first year of the pandemic, when wearing masks outside (!) was mandatory in the city centre despite the summer heat. I have become quite familiar with most villages (and also the state of Monaco) within easy reach of the regional bus and train network, but Nice will always remain my favourite. It is among the top ten of my happy places even though I vividly remember more than one visit when I was glued to my phone (i.e. more than I am normally), obsessing over a certain somebody's messages. I did not like this desperately needy version of myself, even then, but I am still grateful for this "phase" that made me hone my values and non-negotiables.

This was only the second time I stayed in a hotel versus the apartment of Mademoiselle's friend and it was great to get to know a different part of town and thus introduce a new twist to what I like to call an "autopilot vacation". I don't have any concrete plans for my next trip to Nice, but I'm definitely planning not to have a four-year hiatus again.

Hunter and Gatherer

On Saturday night, I went to pick greengages from two trees (one with reddish, one with golden yellow fruit) that grow a little further down the road where we live in suburbia. I seem to be the only person who is interested in taking them, but they are very nostalgic for me. There was a tree near the house where I grew up and my friends and I used to play in and around it. I still prefer the fruit when they are unripe and still a little green, but this stage is admittedly prettier.

I am convinced that this joy in finding things to forage was instilled in my by my paternal grandmother who I loved going on walks with and who NEVER ever returned home from any walk in the country side empty-handed. Whether it was yarrow (her favourite) or chamomile for tea, some apples from the side of the road or blueberries, wild strawberries and mushrooms from the forest, she always found something and knew many "secret spots" on her regular routes. Her passion for hunting for freebies in nature was fuelled by the fact that her own grandmother apparently was a well-known herb woman who passed knowledge about medicinal properties of herbs on to her and also the hard (war and post-war) times she experienced as a child and young adult. Even though I grew up a privileged only child who only knew financial hardship and starvation from books and films, it still gives me a special thrill to find and use things that nature gives me for free and I think of my granny every time.