I am recovering from the weekend.
School's Advent Party on Friday afternoon, birth day party at the other end of town Saturday morning, 2,5 hour drive to Austria Saturday afternoon, picked up the keys to our weekend house, stayed the night and spend the following day discovering cupboards, storage rooms, the attic, the barn, and some surprises an old house is always hiding. Cleaning. Making plans. Drive back home on Sunday. Roll into bed exhausted.
I already wrote that the house is old, didn't I? Turns out we bought an abundant collection of vintage trunks, boxes of old letters and 1940's household account books, a zillion wardrobes and old farm house beds (in all kind of conditions), a whole collection of vintage chemist's glass bottles. And that's only the top of the pleasant iceberg. I won't bother you with the unpleasant renovation iceberg, which might actually be just as tall as the pleasant iceberg. But it's our own fault. We wanted old, we got old. And a magnificent view too. I think we're lucky (cross fingers here), and hope we stay that way. I'll take you on a little visit now and then, if you like.