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Reading an article featuring ‘The World’s Best Hotels,’ featuring sumptuous full page photographs, my eyes fell and lingered upon Le Sirenuse, on the Amalfi Coast in Positano, Italy.

I’ll wait while you google. Seriously. It’s worth it.

The magazine photo was taken from inside this boutique hotel showing a long, rectangular table covered in a pale-green linen tablecloth. On top rested eight small woven baskets of fresh fruit, gleaming like jewels, delicate pastries that would grace the window of any Parisian boulangerie, charming glass pots of freshly made yogurt and juices…And best of all the table was strategically placed against an arched window which offered the view of an impossibly blue Mediterranean. A slice of tumbling cliff could be seen to the left running down to its shore, complete with pastel colored houses and lemon trees.

I sighed and thought, as one often does on a rainy, winter night, ‘If only…’

Nice for some, right? And I don’t begrudge them a bit. Anyone who has the opportunity to experience such glorious surroundings should. It can be quite life changing. Those of us who are paying off vet bills, mortgages and college educations might have to wait a bit longer. I do, however, believe that a little decadence in our everyday life can make all the difference in the world.

Our friend, Diane, who is a masseuse, told me that one of her clients had surprised her with a ‘milk wand’ that, for as little as ten bucks on Amazon, can turn your early morning, sludgy coffee or tea into a concoction that would spark envy from any barista.

“It’s wonderful,” she elaborated. “It takes maybe 20 seconds and makes the milk so frothy—it’s such a treat, I just love it!”

Well, I had to order it. More rain was on tap, the barn chores each morning had been miserable and breakfast at Le Sirenuse isn’t in my future any time soon. I bought the cheapest wand on offer and…I feel very much like Lady Muck. Children, I can be standing in the barn aisle, mud caked up to the ankle of my boots, hay in my bra and soaked gloves, yet with my frothy coffee (I even sprinkled in a touch of cinnamon) I’ve morphed into a Rockefeller. It completely lifts my spirits and pads my wallet from the savings of a Starbucks Grande.

And so I pass Diane’s recommendation to you. Life is short. Inflation is hard. Get the wand. Maybe you’ll go to Italy, maybe you won’t. But with a frothy coffee everyday, who cares?