As I was crossing the railroad track today, I had to go around a graffiti-covered train that had stopped at our station. It was the train to Blagoevgrad – the city where I used to live as a student, three decades ago. I remember travelling there and back every week by train (or often hitch-hiking), feeling homeless at heart, looking dreamily through the window at this small station in a picturesque woodland area. And now I live nearby – in a house with a garden, sharing it with my loved ones, doing what I love the most. How lucky am I?

Last weekend we got a small greenhouse, so the plants were saved from the “invasion of the arctic bears”, as we called the recent arctic chill. It is lined with the sleeping mats, which we used for camping at festivals, so now they have their own tent. Flowers are people too!

Nick assembled it, then Boris carried the pots and arranged them inside. I am so lucky to have these two!

I have been trying to grow aquilegia from seeds for a long time, but I couldn’t. Yesterday I saw a stray purple plant, growing in a crack on the sidewalk, and I just had to rescue it. I hope it grows more roots, as I could not dig most of them, and then I can plant it here.

I am reading The Miniaturist. I wanted to find it, ever since I read The Muse by the same author.

It’s dark and mysterious, and it reminds me of Tulip Fever – a novel that I was  quite impressed with.

It must be that special Dutch atmosphere, similar to the famous paintings from this era (like The Girl With the Pearl Earring, another exciting book/movie/painting).

Theoretically, it’s not my favourite kind of setting – I prefer reading about far away lands, passion and adventure, like The Moon and Sixpence, for example.

But it’s really intriguing to look behind the curtains of that seemingly confined and narrow-minded world, and be amazed when you see the secret burst of desire, inspiration and possibilities. It’s all so… human!

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