Rabbit is posh

I’ve always had two very good reasons to aim at having as little tangible property as possible: my abodes used to be the opposite of spacious, and I was always in the danger of having to move to another fairly soon.

Now all of this no longer applied. Which didn’t make me rich; yet I had enough savings to buy, in addition to the necessary and almost necessary things like a hob or curtains, so many unnecessary ones, some of which I had previously never even considered buying, that now and then I felt positively posh. Things I didn’t really need, but now I could afford them liked having: a doormat, screwdrivers, a measuring tape, plates, more cutlery than is necessary for a single person’s single meal, a wooden spoon and more, even a toaster and a clothes horse . . . I only stopped short of buying a fridge, and that more on account of the electricity consumption.

And the delight of drinking whisky or wine from glass again, after months of plastic tumblers . . . Maybe it was wishful thinking, but after the first gulp I’d have sworn it actually tasted better.



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