So, I moved into my new place a week ago. I haven't lived alone since the three months in Berlin, and that was two years ago... When I unpacked my things I said hello to so many things I'd forgotten I had. Books I've been meaning to read forever, pictures of dear friends that have once again found a place on the wall, and my K-lamp, my table, my maps... Material things, yes, but when you've moved 26 times, you become attached to things you only get to live with once in a while. It's good to be home.
The first morning, I woke up with a cold, but nonetheless it was great listening to the city waking up while deeply immersed in blankets.
AnCa has left a few things in the apartment, one of them is this chair. I am enjoying it as long as I can, it's so good to sit in, especially by the window reading. Also here is the K-lamp I bought in Berlin. I love it.
I've had a strained relationship with Vesterbro for many years - long story - but now that I have come back, I'm slowly warming up. I spent a half hour in a thrift shop the other day talking to the owner, and it left me with such a good feeling. She was funny and sweet and extremely helpful. I love those encounters.