Hey guys.
One week ago I came home from my lovely vacation. The first week of vacation was busy, Oslo, Germany, back to Oslo in one week. The second week was all about being home in my parents house. Although my parents house is my late grandmothers house. They sold THEIR house in April and moved into my grandmothers house, in a beautiful village outside my hometown. I am always awestruck when I come back there. The air, the nature, the tranquility, the smell of the ocean, the beauty. It's just a perfect place, and when the sun shines, it gets even better. It is a place that makes me want to take walks. Im not much of a nature girl, although being Norwegian appearently is being a nature loving tree-hugger. Well, I'm not. Nature is nice, but I don't drop everything to go be with it. But in the village, called Ekkerøy, the freedom out there really does something to me. When I'm there, I get crazy thoughts in my head to move back home ... I don't wanna go live in the North with 10 months winter, and 2 months supposed summer.
It is beautiful to come back.
I thought coming home for the first time to a different place than my childhood home, was gonna be weird. I thought I was gonna miss OUR house. I drove past it once, saw new cars outside it, a new mailbox and other things. It felt weird, wrong. And right there and then, my childhood home was gone for me. I don't think I'll be passing by many more times. I won't be walking down the street I spent my childhood and youth. Home is where the heart is. Home is where my parents are. Home is that beautiful, little white house by the beach in Ekkerøy.
My grandparents who lived in the house
My friends posing in front of the mighty ocean.
Life on my beach.
Wish I could have stayed a month. But that dream life is already a week of reality away....
