Luxury

Luxury is a relative thing, and it needn't be costly. A bathtub full of hot water and a favorite magazine* can offer every bit as much enjoyment as expensive trips or acquisitions. Luxury can also be quite personal. Here are a couple of such personal indulgences.

My grandmother, who grew up in rural Vermont, wanted nothing more, in her youth, than to someday have an entire can of olives all to herself. She was one of ten siblings, and such a rarity, if it were afforded, had to be split ten ways.

Her son, my uncle, has had a successful career and could doubtless afford far more than olives (though I'm sure he bought her some, at some point). He confided that he indulges in a luxury all his own. I think he buys them in bulk, and as such, it's probably cheaper than most peoples' daily coffee or even newspaper. You see, he finds he likes the feel of brand new socks between his toes, so he wears a new pair almost every day.

Anything I read in the tub invariably ends up wet, so I tend to choose things that don't matter if they get wet.