But that’s not the point of this post. The point of this post is…
To avoid putting the animals into kennels, I usually house sit for
them. Their large family home in an
upper class northern suburb, bought when there were five people living under
one roof, is the complete opposite of my tiny shoebox town house. You’d think I’d
relish all the space and the luxury of a home kitted out with all the modern
conveniences, and I do.
It’s an absolute treat having a sprawling private garden in which to
stroll.
It’s a marvellous thing to be able to hang my washing outside instead
of on a clothes horse in the kitchen.
I’m so close to work. It takes about 20 minutes to get to the office in
the morning and no more than 15 to get home in the afternoon. It’s a huge
petrol saving too.
I love having unhindered access
to DSTV and the Internet.
And the kitchen has so many appliances and gadgets I hardly know where
to start when preparing a meal. There are so many pots, pans, dishes, knives
and forks that I only have to run the dishwasher about once a week to avoid
running out of clean utensils.
But staying here has given me new appreciation for my shoebox.
I can watch TV from the lounge, kitchen and bathroom without missing a
thing.
A single heater keeps the chill out of the air in winter. Although,
this winter, I’ve vowed not to turn it on at all. Will rough it with a couple
extra blankets and perhaps a beanie.
Without moving a single step I can cook on the stove, wash the dishes
and then pack them away. Okay, perhaps there are a few steps involved, but not many.
And when I have to clean, it can all be done in about an hour and half,
if I’m moderately thorough.
So, I’ll enjoy all the perks of house sitting while it lasts, but I can’t
say I’ll be sad to go home when the time finally comes.
