Sometimes, when I am in my new apartment, with the electric kettle boiling, the sound of the washing machine overriding the Rachmaninoff on the record player, the smell of bleach in the air and candles lit, I feel as if I am in someone else's house.

But, when I am in my bed, with the covers pulled to my chin, and the sound of rain coming in from the open window,

Or

if I am in the kitchen with the pots and pans out, vegetable peelings in the sink, the fridge partially open and the combined smell of olive oil, garlic and onion,

I feel completely at home.

I don't think I will try an analyze this one.