He makes me fresh fruit and vegetable juice in the morning with apples, oranges, celery, zuchinni, beetroot, carrot, pear, ginger…
He cooks fabulous dinners with fresh ingredients… bœuf bourguignon, home made pizza, lamb shanks in red wine, cauliflower and asparagus soup…
He takes out the garbage, puts the bins out on the curb, takes them back in.
He offers chauffeuring… lifts to work, pick up from the train station, errands.
He entertains my sister when I really can’t face it.
He does the shopping, going to the farmer’s market before I am awake, the house is filled with fresh, crispy, bright food.
He gives me the TV remote.
He buys little treats that he knows I love and hides them in the pantry.
He offers me foot massages and pedicures.
He is quiet and unobtrusive, he tries to make himself small in my space, to not make any demands, to not be disruptive and for the most part, he succeeds.
He is a wonderful, considerate, fabulous, sweet and lovely man… the perfect houseguest, and I cannot wait to get him the hell out of my space.