Is There a Better Way to Live?

I began to yearn for everything id once reviled, my beang be renaissance really took off after a stay at an inconspicuous house in the scots borders village of kirk yetham. I h'd had a long day hiking over the cheviots from england, feeling both lonely and as if were about to fall ill. But then found myself, for only a few quid, with a new wife, two small and rambantous children, a coal effect fire and a shepherdess doll toilet roll holder of his own. The only thing missing was desiderata. And some years made a point of seeking out such vicarious experiences of domesticity. These