From my window I can see a cleaning lady making the bed in my neighbor's apartment. Not that I am spying, I would never. I love our apartment. It is very clean and pretty. There is a moat around the building and a biometric security system that almost never recognizes my fingerprint. We are also close to downtown but far enough away so that we hear the squawking of seagulls and not the racket of traffic. And, our apartment is a luxurious oven, baking in the flames of summer sun. After all the long nights I spent crafting my affectionate aversion to Architecture, I have to say: never ever ever design a glass house without a superior ventilation system. In the morning, the shades are up and a cool breeze circulates throughout the apartment. Great. In the afternoon, as the sun creeps across the sky and its rays spray fire from the west, the shades come down. Now, the wind is no match for the death rays and the shades billow hopelessly like sails on a moored ship. Typically, we are closed for business between the hours of 3pm and 7pm and find someplace else to pass the time. Then, there is the night. Oh, night. The night is still, interrupted only by the sounds of dripping sweat on the elegant hardwood floor. It is hot. Very hot.
I want to buy plants for the apartment. We get great sun and I am certain that without much effort, we could turn this place into a greenhouse. There is a nursery not too far from here, although it does involve a train ride and a couple of hours. Since we haven't made it there yet, every time we pass a florist I always check to see if they sell plants. Last week though, I decided to buy flowers. When I went to pay, the florist smiled and said: "Forty dollars please, thank you." What? I got swindled by a florist who pretended she didn't hear how much I wanted to spend. So, I spent forty dollars on flowers that died in less than one week. Now you know.
To counterbalance this extravagant lifestyle, we have been more frugal when it comes to food. In fact, just the other day at the grocery store:
Tim: "Are you sure this is the one you want?"
I looked at him longingly.
Tim: "You can only get one box."
Me: "But ..."
Tim: "And if you don't like them, you still have to eat them all because it's a lot of money and we can't waste food."
Me: "Okay ..."
... Pause ...
Tim: "You have a cookie problem."
True. And the Hokey Pokey cookies were delicious.
Take the tour:
This is what we see every day as we come and go.
Sky Tower, Viaduct Harbour, Auckland.
This is a lock. This is our lock. We would use this lock if we had a
boat and wanted to take our boat from our marina into the harbour.
We don't have a boat.
Our private marina, because we need one, of course.
We live on the 5th Floor of the building on the left.
Stratis - Lighter Quay, Auckland
Entrance walkway is below the water level. Neat!
Spartan living.
Sliding doors and the approximately 3.5' high, very delicate glass
panel that barely prevents me from falling out of the apartment.
Sunset. So pretty it hurts.
The view at night: the glowing pool and the business of everyone
who left shades up and lights on.
That is so beautiful! Your writing, your place... the cookies!
ReplyDeleteIt is a beautiful, soothing view from your apartment.The apartment is also beautiful, all conducive to making lists of things to do, and not doing them. It is relaxation and recreation, the place demands it from you. Buy 2 boxes of "whatever you want next time at the grocery store, a box of cookies for Tim and a Fan, it's my treat. Enjoy the beauty. It is magical even from the pictures-Love-Dad
ReplyDeleteDone.
ReplyDeleteToday I bought cookies and a fan.
!