Right now, my mother and son are in the heated spa in an area of the house most people would put the recliner chair. It's just a few paces from the perfectly stylish galley kitchen and right by the indoor pool, because who wouldn't want a pool in the middle of their house? Actually, while I admit I am totally in awe of the owners of this abode for their ability to think outside the box, the overwhelming smell of chlorine in the house's living areas is probably a good reason not to do it. And call me a prude, but massive clear glass sliding doors between one of the master bedrooms and the pool/living area of the house seems like a curious design feature. To be clear, I am not complaining. I am totally in love with my decision to spend this week at the beach and this house has to be experienced to be believed. Also, I love people who dare to be different - and if you fancy a house with five TVs including one you can watch from the indoor pool and you can afford it well why not? Still, while my family laze in the heated spa the big draw card for the fur friend and myself is the beach. We'd barely unpacked before we hit the sand. I'm not sure what distance I walked but I am totally sure how ever far I walked, Rumple covered 10 times the distance. Up and back he charged chasing the ball, or other dogs or his tail. For both of us, this is about as good as life gets
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