When I'm 65...

When I'm 65, I hope to live in my own little boutique hotel by the sea. A simple abode on the cliff where I can wake up to the sounds of waves crashing against the shore and the smell of salt in the air. Where I can look out to the view of calm waters in the horizon, and embrace the cool breeze wafting through the whitewashed French patio doors. In the distance, sea birds duck into the waters for their morning feed. Outside my window, sunbirds flit about in my lush and colourful garden.

Soon, the sun rises in the horizon, nudging my guests awake as the soft rays filter into their rooms. The kitchen comes alive with the sounds of bacon sizzling, bread rising and the aroma of coffee brewing.

I sit in the patio enjoying my hot cuppa with the dogs lying contently at my feet, planning the menu for the day and itinerary for the guests. We'll go for a morning hike along the coast and stop by the seaside village for tea and scones while I gather the freshest produce for tonight's dinner.

In the afternoon, I'll start working on the oil painting in my sun-lit studio. I'm making a gift for my son and I hope to finish it before the kids come around during the weekend. I would love to see his eyes light up as I unveil the canvas. We'll have a big garden party for the guests. My little grandkids will play and roll on the soft downy grass while the adults savour wine and cheese under the big shady tree.

We'll sit and watch the sunset and stay until a million stars twinkle in the sky.

Here's looking forward to the good life, when I'm 65.