Is it my imagination, or was there a cereal once named Post Toasties? Irrelevant, as many such random associations seem to be. Let's begin with a beautiful portrait—at least, "beautiful" if a lovingly presented cappuccino is your thing...
And then it was time to trudge to the more or less local lavanderia to persuade our clothing that it's better to be clean and relaxed and folded, than to have the ability to stand unassisted. I think automated Speed Queen laundromats must be everywhere. You put in your clothes, touch the screen several times as directed, touch your Visa to another screen and look for the final "go" screen, and it all begins: the whirling and sloshing behind that stubbornly locked round portal. Easy. Until next time when you have to navigate those necessaries again, anyway.
Before we can trudge or walk or saunter (descending order of arduousness) anywhere, though, we need to navigate these stairs from bedroom level down to where be them vittles. It's grand-looking, over the top but no more so than this place overall. Ha, banisters may be safer but would ruin the grand impression. Which brings to mind a new bandage need. Another time....
So, this (next day) morning arrival downstairs was a day of fun fussing from our hostess. Usually we don't wear frou frou headgear at breakfast.
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