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Would you believe we’re halfway through July and soon, not too soon hopefully, the weather will start changing- the evening will cool down, the breeze will be a tad chillier- and then it’ll be fall?
We’re in a huff over the prospect of moving. When you live from season to season, you smell the changes before anyone else and you take heed, because being late at recognizing it’s time to pack and get going may cost you a job opportunity, a new travel, a different experience. Yes, we’re already planning our getaway.
As much as we fancy ourselves migratory, we seem to have no compass at all to lay our course by. Work dictates our destination and at the moment we seem to be tossing our lines pretty close to home: we’ve always said we’d fancy seeing more of our surroundings before undertaking another year abroad and that’ll be the year we see South America.
So there, to all of you who’ve been asking me when we’ll next be in Asia- not too soon i fear. And to those who asked us to stay closer, there you go- we’ll only be a short flight away.
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I envy people who own their apartment/house/ranch/bungalow/tent/teepee/shed. Once upon a time, the dream was to flat, hopefully with artistic, non-homicidal types who like pets, preferably somewhere interesting like Prague in the fall.
Think lots and lots of breathable room, high ceilings, white walls; a soothing view from the bed and while you’re at it, a claw-foot bathtub in the middle of the living room. Why not.
(I bet those floors are a killer to mop up but never mind, they’re not mine!)
((I’d need someone to help me draw those curtains, bet they’re 5 tons each!))
In the event Jelle and i ever stop for one year solid and decide on property, my only wish is it be somewhere near the water, be it a lake or the ocean; that it have a bookstore nearby and at least one decent pub to hit up and refresh our karaoke memories with, and that it be somewhere i can easily get a wifi signal!
Till then, i’m making do with Sweet Home Style and its thousands of inspiring pages
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We woke up thinking we’d take the bikes and ride to Porto Garibaldi some 6 kms away, just because it’s our last free weekend for the season. Instead, still bundled in bed, we heard the tell-tale sign of rain outside.
We were going to get potted flowers to put in reception and to display in one of the corners at home, just because the place is too sterile and white to look lived in despite the fact it is. That was the idea, but now we’ve had time to think things through over several cups of coffee, perhaps a craft project is in order.
Thing is, we like plants and flowers as much as the next person. They’re pretty, they’re symbolic, they add an accent to any space. But they die. Early. At least when in our hands… Sigh.
It’s the season to plant herbs and pot bulbs and generally rethink the garden or at the very least the windowsill: a spruce of green to look at while you’re doing the dishes is a great incentive to clean up tidy- and all that. Alas, Jelle and i have had the worst luck with plants.
Could these paper flowers be our only solution?
Courtesy of Spread The Love.