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Travel gives me inspiration, yet home needs to be a sanctuary. Live in what you love ♥
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Vacation Beach rentals in the lush North Coast of the Dominican Republic
Who doesn’t love a good coffee first thing in the morning?
While my other half can drink cup after cup throughout the day, I am the total opposite. I only want/need one….and that one cup of delicious frothiness must be a cappuccino.
Over the past few years I’ve used my trusty Bialetti, burned through a few Tassimo, and have finally acquired…. MY PRECIOUS!!
I’ve coveted precious ever since walking into the Nespresso Boutique in Boston, sampled many cups of goodness, and *GASP!* quickly came to the conclusion that….. I
must have NEED one. Only there were so many different models….we left confused.
Nearly a year went by (where did the time go?!?), when I saw THE PRECIOUS– and……..
Home at last 🙂
Now…one final mention. Did you see THAT CUP!!!???? Glorious gold. Yup. More coveting on my part (I’ll admit it…I’m bad). But really, the elixir of goodness needs to be held in something special. Don’t you agree?
I went searching the world wide web to see what’s out there for beautiful gold cups. Have a look, maybe you’ll covet too 😉
Or you can make your own!
I’m sure many of you would agree with me when I say: “Pinterest is EVIL”! How many of you are in lust mode for that most fabulous “anything”? I’m not talking about the affordable, the sane. I’m talking about the AMAZING! Pinterest is the stuff of your dreams. I have a billion boards (not really, but I do have more than one haha), and one of them is all about my backyard and the haven I dream it can be. Sure, it’s full of gardens that rival Versaille, would take a large staff to maintain, and a fortune to create……..it’s become very apparent that I need to win the lotto. That being said, there are some ideas that we CAN make happen. With a lot of back breaking labour on our part and a few dollars it will happen (as I write this my back is killing me from weeding yesterday….so I’m still going to dream of that staff of gardeners!).
I love to eat outdoors, and what better way to do so than at a farm table. It’s the kind of table that can easily be found in a beautiful courtyard in Provence or at an Italian family gathering in the rolling hills of Tuscany….and it’s big enough to hold a gathering of friends and family. It’s also an affordable (if you build it yourself) design element that you’ll be able to enjoy for a very long time.
I’m in awe of the talent and patience needed to create such a wonderful showcase of our planet.
It’s funny how the brain works. One thought leads to another thought, then another, and another….and suddenly you remember something from years ago and you’re not quite sure how you got there. Well, my thought today turned to high school and the English teacher that made everyone memorize a rather large soliloquy from Shakespeare’s “Hamlet”, which had to be recited in front of the class if you happened to be late. I never was……but a portion of this is still embedded in my brain. Fear drove it in there (I’d rather have eaten live spiders rather than stand in front of the class in an attempt to do this! Although the thought of eating live spiders is right up there on the horrifying list) 😛
“To be, or not to be: that is the question:
Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep;
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to, ’tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish’d. To die, to sleep;
To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there’s the rub;
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause: there’s the respect
That makes calamity of so long life;
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The oppressor’s wrong, the proud man’s contumely,
The pangs of despised love, the law’s delay,
The insolence of office and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscover’d country from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o’er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pith and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action.–Soft you now!
The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisons
Be all my sins remember’d!”
― William Shakespeare, Hamlet