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 mattresses as luxurious (I don’t … I think those are the basics). Anything beyond that is luxury to us. We’ve stayed in some pretty awful place … and then again, lucked into some wonderful, charming places.
In our lives, luxury is almost never even a part of the goal. We want a car that runs, and will run even in the middle of a bad, New England winter. I want good food to eat, especially since there are so many things I can’t eat at all. I want good quality appliances, but they don’t have to be the best or fanciest. All they have to be is up to the tasks for which I need them.
Although I don’t consider it a luxury, I’m willing to pay for the best computer I can stretch my money to afford. I want the best video card, the most V-RAM. A fast CPU, a huge (dependable) hard drive and a very high-definition monitor. I want all of it to fit into a five-pound package.
Cameras, too. Although none of my equipment is currently top of the line, much of it was when it was new. I have every lens I might need and a few I really don’t need, but enjoy having anyway. Since I don’t make money from photography and have no plans to make it pay, I guess you could say all my lovely camera equipment is a luxury. I wouldn’t argue the point.
Our ultimate luxury and the only one I think I can’t live without? Our bed. Every night, when we settle in for however many hours of peace we can steal from a crazy world, I am grateful for that bed.
Life is hard, but our bed is soft.