"A Place Called Home"

It's supposed to start snowing today.

Crap.

The apartment is starting to take on a slight personality, because I am starting to fill it with stuff.  Stuff, once again stuff.  I devoted four months of my life to getting rid of stuff in the States so I could pay less for storage and move here unfettered.  And now I'm starting to pick up stuff. I should stick to the basics, of course, but my kitchen probably now has more stuff than some people acquire in a lifetime.  And I'm not even close to being done with the kitchen. It is barely adequate. It must at least become functional.

Things I like about the apartment:

1. It has a kick-ass oven, at least for conventional German standards. I have learned that the back of the oven holds more heat than the front. Pretty typical, but good to know before I start baking in it.  Yes, incredible. I have lived in my apartment for two weeks as of today, and the only thing I've managed to bake are some prepared Brötchen and a pizza. Can't wait for the 1st of December to be over, can't wait to get into my kitchen.
2. I like the funky floorplan. The apartment is basically the shape of an isosceles triangle. The Kitchen, interestingly enough, is at the narrowest part. My bedroom at the broadest, which also looks out on the street.
3. My bedroom. I have a bedroom! And not the closet that I crammed my double bed into in SFO. There is space for a larger bed, a place to put my clothes, bookcases if I want, and a desk.  And it gets tons of light.
4. The shower stall: low to the ground, large, all glass panels. Towel radiator next to it to keep my towels and bathrobe comfy warm for when I'm done with my shower.
5. The sofa bed I ordered. Not the fanciest, but functional, very red, and large, with a recamiere on one end. I get to lay out like a Grande Dame and watch movies.
6. It's mine. I found it on my own, signed for it on my own, and will pay for it on my own. It's mine.
7. It's the first apartment in Germany I've ever had on my own.
8. The fencing club I'll be going to is literally five minutes by foot from the apartment. Even in the freezing cold it won't be that bad. And I can shower at home if I want.
9. It's not in Weimar, which, though cute, is very, very small. I already know almost all of the commuters by sight, and I've only been commuting a week and a half.
10. Did I mention it's mine?

Soon, it will be a clean, well-lighted place for books, for cooking, for sitting, for me. I look forward to nesting in December, to going shopping on the 2nd (Verkaufsoffener Sonntag, the one Sunday of the month when they open the stores to shoppers. It's a boon in a retail wilderness.)

I have a home.

And our time is up.

P.J. Harvey's "A Place Called Home"