As a result, I've done nothing to make it a home. In fact, looking around, you'd be hard-pressed to find any mementos of my life other than a dozen CDs to mark for 20 years of independent living. (And I don't even have a stereo!) Otherwise, most everything I have either doesn't belong to me, or is less than two years old.
Still, what I do own probably says a lot about me:
- Four large houseplants -- plus a bromeliad that's blooming again -- reflecting a love of nature
- A laptop that doesn't always boot, a phone that doesn't always ring, an alarm clock that doesn't always go off, a printer that doesn't print red, and a 10-year-old TV, reflecting my hatred of technology
- A photo Jess gave me of us in Brussels, along with a wood carving she brought me from Namibia, located where I can see them all day
- A set of dishes for three, which used to be a set of four, reflecting my clumsiness
- Three or four sets of bed linen, reminiscent of my B&B days (although I don't iron these)
- Two hypo-allergenic pillows, a collection of asthma and allergy medications, and a large bottle of face cream, because my body is trying to kill me
- Three beat-up suitcases, packed under the bed, reflecting both a history of moving, and a desire to do it again
- Two bicycles, reflecting a desire -- if not the reality -- for exercise
- Six books, which don't actually reflect anything about me because they were all given to me. (I stopped buying books years ago, and most of the books I've read were borrowed.)
In fact, I think Jess has done more to personalize my flat -- a painting, a sofa cover, a tablecloth, some cushions, a woven basket -- than I have! My major contribution may be a tea stain on the carpet. (Did I mention I was clumsy?)
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