Wednesday, February 23


tomorrow will see the last of my countless early morning walks through town to the railway station. i will glance at the church clock on the crooked church tower. i will be passed by the woman on her creaking moped and by the old lady on her morning walk. i will smile at her. i will look in through the window at the man who always seems to be sitting behind his desk in blaringly bright light. the chef of the restaurant that went bankrupt will be walking her dog. i will find my way past the construction work site. i will be handed the paper by the kind old man on the railway platform and i will say good morning to him.
i will miss those quiet early morning streets and their familiar faces.

Sunday, February 20

make the most of it

things to do with an empty bookcase.

Saturday, February 19


i'm amazed at the number of things i can already pack days before moving house. so much stuff of which i'm quite sure i'm not going to need it until then anyway. that does make me wonder...

Wednesday, February 16

girl scout

this is hebe. she has been sent ahead by the princess and her mice to check out their future home, a.k.a. the grey house.

Sunday, February 13


i'm searching for the first signs of spring.

Friday, February 11


the princess definitely feels that something is about to happen. she needs lots of cuddles and coaxing and reassurance. she cannot possibly be fooled into the illusion that we will all keep on living in the tiny house for ever and ever, as much as she would love to.

Wednesday, February 9

from scraps

i'm not really sure if i will actually wear it often (a bit more colour than i'm used to), but it was much fun to make.

Monday, February 7

so i'm not the only one

fleur adcock ~ things

there are worse things than having behaved foolishly in public.
there are worse things than these miniature betrayals
committed or endured or suspected;
there are worse things than not being able to sleep for thinking about them.
it is 5 a.m.
all the worse things come stalking in and stand icily about the bed
looking worse and worse and worse.

Sunday, February 6


i am so sentimental about houses and rooms. if i have stayed in a hotel room for even only one night, i say goodbye to it in the morning. out loud.
every day now, i realise that the end of the part of my life that i have lived in this house is coming closer. to me, this means that everything will change. the rooms in which i live and that i call home feel like such an essential part of me. and now a new house will soon have to be made into a home.

Wednesday, February 2

on the road

this picture was taken last october in a sleepy and somewhat cheerless village in the south of france. we spent the night there after we had taken a wrong turn that left us hours of hiking away from the village where we had planned to stay.
it was awful. the place was filthy and cold and dinner was meagre (which is putting it mildly. we did have wine though). i was freezing and hungry and surrounded by dead and living bluebottles throughout the more or less sleepless night.
and yet: thinking back of this place makes me feel good. this is what may happen when you take a chance off the beaten tracks. i guess i would not spend the night there again if i could avoid it, but i do think back of it often and smile.