I don't usually stay mad long, but there is one thing that has raised my shackles for a couple of years.
I bought a studio in the former attic of a 400-year old house in a southern French village. Everything and I mean everything in it was there because I wanted it there.
When my husband came into my life it was too small for the two of us, but I kept the studio. We use it as a guest room.
Somewhere the green shower curtain that I adored, that was a gift, that matched the green in the ceramic mirror frame in the bathroom was replaced by a guest. For two years I've tried to find the same color shower curtain.
This spring I came close, but not enough to totally assuage my anger at someone, and I don't know who, had the nerve to change it.
Was a result we are much more careful on whom we invite. We don't charge for the studio. It is a nest not a place to make money from.
My cousin, whom I love dearly, will be using it this month. We've other visitors scheduled all carefully vetted to not throw out my possessions.
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