We ate those delicious swedish meatballs with a gravy-from-heaven that I wasn't able to identify, plus the best chips in the UK and cranberry sauce. It was so good, like "brazilian-mall-food" (I really miss it).
We bought an entire kitchen, beautiful in white with tongue-and-grove pannels. A gorgeous iron daybed for my pink craft/toys bedroom, small matching wardrobes for the closet, bedside tables, lots of kitchen stuff, vases, decorative things, crokery... So much cheaper than in Jersey. From Laura Ashley we got some curtains, tablelights, candlesticks, cushions... From Homebase we got the wall lights, garden lights, curtain poles, etc.
The house is becoming reality. The house I've always dreamed I'd live in. Dark furniture, country looking. Windows overlooking bucolic gardens and the distant chimneys from the old granite cottages surrounding. A bedroom just for me, my dolls, my paper stuff, my computer. A blue bathroom with a big bath where I will submerge in hot water in winter afternoons. Silent, away from the rest of the busy, noisy and evil world. With a boy who loves me and understands every weird, dark and disgusting bit of my soul. And it's in England, the country I've always dreamed to be.
Sometimes I think it's too much for me. And that I will die before all these things come true completely. I don't really care. The mere anticipation of this pleasure plus everything I already have is enough to justify my existence so far.
I really do not *need* to live much more, to achieve much more.
THIS is the time of my life.
And I am glad I still have my open eyes to see it and my beating heart to love it.
