*** i like German houses ***

Yesterday was a beautiful sunny Sunday, I went for a walk with my dogs to the lake close to my house. On the way I took some snapshots of such pretty German houses. I'd love to live in any one of them [although my house is also pretty nifty...].

I like looking at houses... just another variety of nesting :)

*** i [still] like nesting ***

I do really have the urge to build a beautiful home. I am getting increasingly excited to move- although I realise I am going to live in a dingy little hole and not a beautiful bright and airy living space. I can still brighten up my dingy hole though- like this balcony: an oasis of colour in a dull grey city:


Image from here.

*** i like nesting ***

The most beautifully rustic kitchen ever. From here

I love the walls and the splurges of colour, unfortunately I don't remember where I got this image from.

I NEED these hooks...

I am moving into my own place soon and I have been looking at available flats online lately. I am hundreds if not thousands of kilometers away, so I can't view them, or sign a contract and although I know I won't move into any of the flats I see online, I still love looking and imagining that I might just move in over a month. Lately I am starting to nest, or at least wanting to start to nest, as undeniably girls do. I can't help it I see all these beautiful homes and things and envision them being mine.

I think of my husband coming home from work, He is a rugged manly man in an overall, someone who likes to build things. Or rebuild things. Perhaps vintage cars. Someone i can give flowers to in a brown paper bag. Someone who will come home with a truckload of wooden pallets, just because I might be able to make something out of them. Someone I can cook for. I want a man with a healthy appetite.

My house must be filled with life and things and smells. aromas of freshly brewed coffee, melted butter, cut grass and the slight musk of wooden floors. A healthy amount of elegantly mismatched clutter that says "this is home" even to a stranger. Wooden signs hang on walls alongside heavy pots and pans and a wide array of utensils. A very fluffy cat, maybe called Fred or Muesli- because I call everything Fred or Muesli- is always around, usually curled up in a soft and sunny corner, just to suddenly reappear wrapped around my ankles purring.