Which happened the day before my birthday two years ago
That day the substantial granite toppings to the sea walls had been forced off by the violent vigorous and immense spring tides
This day I rose early to sit out on that self same terrace to listen to the soft lapping of the gentle waves
That day the front windows were broken and caved in by the lashing of the fierce ferocious winds
This day a slight breeze takes up the aroma of the lavender from the large contemporary plant containers
And carries it effortlessly to my nostrils
This place pristine organised refined by years of practice and the care to want to do things absolutely correctly always
And then that other place where nothing quite worked
Where every day a few more points of fine detail had still not been attended to
Yet a place whose receptionist thought all was well
Which it wasn't
Which it isn't
Between the two places we were marginally excessive
Though how else to behave in the sunshine and in the rain
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