Thursday, 14 March 2013

Home



There is something about coming home to your familiar childhood house that get the memories flowing.
A big bonus is coming home and the sun is actually out, so you can smell the crisp air and feel the sun on your exposed, (frozen), cheeks. 
 I always love coming back here. 




 The minute I walk through the front door it is like an inner transformation is taking place and I am back to being 18 years old, with the house rules to follow.
"Dinner is at 16.00, -don't be late".
"What are you doing today and when will you be back?"
"You're getting too thin, are you eating?"
Little reminders of what my life used to be like, with loving parents genuinely worried about me.
Not to mention the lovely dinners and desserts my mum makes.

The house is filled with a eclectic mix of knick-knacks from around the world and there are always angels around as my mum loves them.
The coffee grinder on the wall is an absolute favourite of mine. 



The familiar things that I grew up with, the plant that must be as old as I am, happily growing in the kitchen window.

Porcelain tiles in frames on the kitchen wall



"Mother and child" statue on the fireplace, right next to the laughing buddha and a lovely wedding photo of mum and dad, check out the sideburns!
The orchids seems to love it here, it's funny because down in the tropics I can never get them to grow. Here where they are totally out of their element, (it is cold), they seem to blossom.



A hidden place for cognac and wines are inside the barrel that functions as a little chair. The stairway to downstairs are still so slippery you have to hang on to the railing.


The kitchen area where we spend most of our time together, eating long breakfasts that can easily go on for two hours and with apples that always wrinkle up because there is always more tempting things to eat in the house. (I'm thinking if this was down on our island these apples would be long gone).
 Mum's taken up painting and in my eyes she makes the most wonderful paintings.


Looking out through the crochet curtains on the top floor.
Being in Norway the trolls are never far away...

No comments:

Post a Comment