One thing you love about your house.
The curtains billow in a breeze.
One thing you’d like to change about it (that is changeable).
If my bathroom was bright green and white or turquoise and white (or possibly bright yellow and white) tiles I wouldn’t complain.
And one thing you’d like to change about it (that is not changeable).
A place to put up an indoor winter clothesline (but that would require a proper basement and one of the things I love is the rather improper basement).
Where does the sun rise and set?
Rises behind the forest across the road where I’m told there used to be a mill — the millpond is just around the corner and has a bench for sitting and trout for fishing. I can see the sun rise from my bedroom and the light also floods the living room and greets me in a most delightful way when I go downstairs. It rises above 200 berry bushes and a meadow of wild thyme.
What does your kitchen most often smell like?
Currently possibly cat food as our cat recently had dental work and there are sometimes six bowls of different flavours and textures (pate, gravy, gravy and chunks) spread out for her to nibble on as she fancies. This is the equivalent of giving ice cream after tonsils.
Where to do you like to sit (or be) when it rains?
In the cottage, attached to the kitchen. The cottage is where the curtains billow.
Do you have a small sanctuary of your own, a chair, a window, a room?
Many. Each serving a different purpose.
How do you know you’re home?
I read something once that said the trick is to find a place where you fit. That’s the whole enchilada right there. When you fit, everything feels right and looks beautiful. And the thought of bathroom tiles is insignificant to the pleasure of being able to breathe. When you fit, so does everything else.