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A lot has been going on here in Stierva. Spring announced itself by sending its messengers in the shape of chirping birds and tender buds. On my walks I could suddenly see the soil again and bravely I shed layers and layers of my winter clothes. Although I knew exactly that this would only be a little teaser of what's to come and that winter hadn't yet said goodbye. As beautiful as this spring air felt, I missed winter and the enchantment snow brings, which I raved about already enough on here. The light was almost too bright, reflected on the melting snow crystals, the snow not pure and featherlike anymore, but yellow and brown and grey and heavy.

During these warm late winter-days a new and exciting chapter begann also in the house. The kitchen my grandparents built in the seventies got redone. But before the modern and light kitchen elements could find their new spots, the whole space had to be stripped down. Many things were uncertain in the beginning as we could only guess by an open piece of wall what was yet to be uncovered. From the experience of the last years we knew of our ancestor's preference to leave everything untouched and instead just cover it up with another layer. That's why there still must be thousands of nails in this house's walls that have served their purpose a long time ago. My mum tends to ask me to please remove at least one nail when I put in a new one.

My father and our neighbour started by uncovering a beautiful old wooden wall next to the fireplace. I think it's the gem of this kitchen. You can tell that it's really old, but it's still in shape and it goes well with the white wall next to it.

Afterwards the yellow boards on the ceiling got removed and by doing so we already gained several centimeters in height. The room even got higher when my parents spontaneously decided to get rid of the many floor layers as well and voilà: a wonderfully old wooden floor appeared and at once the former scarcely 1.76 meters high kitchen now measures over 1.90 meters!

Here are some impressions:

When I stand in my kitchen now it feels like traveling back in time. My great-grandmother used to walk on this exact floor. It's uneven and punctured by many nails. The wooden boards differ on the spot where once you could access the cellar. But I can also see the wooden cladding which was built in by my grandparents a generation later and now a new and big kitchen exists in this room, a future legacy of my parents. What traces will remain from me one day?

At the moment its mostly a trail of scent, because I basically live in this kitchen. The kitchen is probably the most important room for me in a house. It's a place where I can be creative, too and I have had this dream for a long time to grow and process my own food. And now this dream manifests into reality and I would absolutely love to start planning and preparing my garden right away. I'm impatient and want to realize everything at once as my vision is so clear and I can exactly see my plan taking form, but as so often I am slowed down. Winter has returned and wrapped everything in white. By now I know that it's good this way, that I am allowed to give it time, that I can continue dreaming and realize my dream step by step. That I am allowed to enjoy the process, because this chapter of my life is incredibly exciting and it would be a pity if it passed too quickly.

So I fill my basket with wood, make a fire in the fireplace, put my snowshoes on once again and make for new and undiscovered paths...

March 19th, 2021


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