It was a change of scenery for my morning walk with the ridgebacks today. We took to the streets rather than the beach. Which I’m happy to do, as it’s good training for the hounds to be on a tight lead every so often. Plus, there’s a particular charm that wraps itself around my local town at this time of year. It’s a time when the windows and the gardens of grand homes transform into festive wonder. I’m ever so nosey and love to have a cheeky look inside the living spaces of expensive houses.
Peering through the Victorian bay windows, I find myself captivated by the extravagant decorations adoring the homes. Each house seems to tell a story of its own, which always evokes a sense of warmth and comfort in me. I’m really drawn to the opulent houses that stand tall and proud, wondering who would live in a house like that.
As I was strolling past rows upon rows of well manicured gardens, it brought to mind the words of Deborah Levy in her captivating living autobiography trilogy, esp…