My house seems to be a pretty organic place, really. Items move in, become part of the setting, other items move out again. It always seems like a whole though, it just changes all the time. I am no good at throwing things out, and I am good at collecting. Yes, I have a lot of books, and yes, I have read most of them. I couldn’t live without them. But they seem well-contained in their bookcases in my room. It is the knick-knacks that are everywhere. Souvenirs from various trips, like my little wooden woodpecker from the Czech Republic. Gifts from other people, like the toy bird attached to my computer screen, which I got from a colleague a few years’ ago. Things I bought because I like them or collect them, like the old Flanders and Swann programme and my statuettes of the Little Prince. And the things left to me by people who have died, like Alie’s picture frames and her hat. It is a strange collection of weird and wonderful things.
Until last week we had our last guinea pig in two big cages in the room too, but he died. So now there is this empty space where there used to be a very cuddly little animal. There is a gap there. It is amazing how quickly the gap is filled though, with a tea tray and a bowl we inherited from our adopted granny. It's as if it's always been like that.
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