Over the years we had a lot of “different” experiences and adventures. For a while we lived in one of the world’s oldest cities. We had a very nice, but rather small, house but it was plenty roomy enough for us. Also located in that city, in a — as Claire would say — charming neighborhood was a “safe house.” It was necessary that this “hideaway” present the appearance of being occupied — by regular people. So — we were given the keys to the house and part of our duties was to show up on a fairly regular basis to make the house look occupied. I don’t remember ever cooking there, but we often made meals at our house or purchased them from a restaurant and had a really good time. It was like being paid to go on a nice vacation.
I’m not sure why, but the house and those good times just popped into my head. I’ve often wondered if it’s still a safe house, or even if it’s still there. I know for a number of years after we left, the secret that it was really a “safe house” was never discovered. I don’t know if it ever was….
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