Your home is a Magnate's Hideout Your kitchen is someplace you never go, because you "have people for that." There's a Chocolatessen, which is rapidly becoming your favorite room of the house. Having one is also becoming a trend among your wealthy neighbors. Your master bedroom is the size of a small barn, with carpet thick enough to reach your ankles. Your study has hardback editions of every classic ever written, plus a special edition of Rich Dad, Poor Dad with the parts you ghost-authored highlighted. One of your garages holds your collection of ferraris, and is measured in acreage.
Your home also includes a guest wing and private quarters for your servants. Outside is your hedge maze and gardens, meticulously tended by a team of world-class botanists.
And, you have a pet -- a doberman pincer named "Warren".
Below is a snippet of the blueprints: |
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Find YOUR Dream Home! |
Should be a sushitessen really, as I don't have that much of a sweet tooth.
Yesterday I did yoga, which I've wanted to do for ages and it kicked my ass. In a good way. Ben put on loads of weight this week, thank fuck. I've got a social do at Westonbirt when the little cherub wakes up, and tomorrow I'm probably going to be doing ha-ha restoration.
I have lots of onion sets now. Have you noticed how expensive vegetables are now? I remember when they were as cheap as the dirt they grew in, even excluding the inflationary factor. So I'll be growing onions this year, and probably taters too.
Tuesday I start a floristry course.
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