Flat

I only have so much time left now to attend to my appartment before I might have to part with it. I have been meaning to renovate my bathroom for a while and if I get hold of a reliable plumber I’ll want to change the toilet and the sink and fix a couple of radiators, one in my bathroom, one in my study. Since I don’t have any money to do this anyway, I might as well fix an appointment with my cousin as well and see if he will be willing to paint my windows that are so long due. I might even be tempted to use him for some further paintwork in my kitchen, my bedroom and on my balcony.

Sounds a little silly to be improving my flat just to leave it in good shape. I’m going to miss it. Not because it’s so modern, or because it’s so spacious, or because it’s so elegantly furnished, or because I spend so much time in the garden, but because it feels good, because it’s warm and cozy, because it’s cute, because the kitchen is homely, because the bathroom is tiny, because of the light that enters it at different angles, from bright morning sun to pink sunset, because of my funny little closets and the mysterious attic, because of the fresco in the bedroom that my nephews fascinate in, because of the shiny tiles in the kitchen and the dark parquet on the living room, because of my little terrace where I can take breakfast in summer, because of the beautiful, majestic laburnum under my balcony, because I can see the stars and the northern lights straight up through my roof windows, because it’s in such a nice house on such a pretty street, because it’s at the top of the world, because I can see roof tops, the ocean, mountains and glacier out my window, including Bláfjöll, Esja and Snæfellsjökull, because the wind makes spooky sounds under the roof in a storm, because everything I need is within walking distance, because I know my way home to it.

Actually, I probably never ever want to leave it, now that I think of it.