Romance has no part in it

The house hunt continues. I'm starting to think I just like looking in all the different houses rather than actually choosing one. My least favourite are the styled places, all coiffed and cleaned to the realtor's instructions. They are predictable and false. The details set my skin crawling - salad forks in preposterous over-sized bowls empty on a sparkling clean counter, guest towels folded in little fan shapes on the chrome-like finish of the bathroom sink. 


I like the houses where the residents are obviously still living. They may have smoothed the sheets but their shoes are visible in the wardrobe. There's a smooth lozenge of used soap in the shower recess. There's a couple of well cuddled coloured teddies in the smaller bedroom.


I have no idea where we'll end up but I can tell you this is one of the things you will see in my  new home: 

Isn't it's beautiful? It's fabric! 

These are from a store called Edit in Sydney's Darlinghurst, a former working class, now wholly gentrified suburb on the city rim. I'm not usually one for posting websites but will make an exception for any place that treats fabrics with the reverence I saw here.  If you choose to be further delighted, click here:  www.edit-group.com.au. 


I've not yet found a house for my leaf curtains. This crumbling corner is my current favourite. It is too small, too cramped and possibly haunted, but jasmine is running riot on the rotting wooden fence outside and there's a wood cooker in the kitchen. 

Also, it matches a lot of my clothes. May I just offer a slightly better indication of my seemingly bottomless bag: 

And here's the jasmine, which has just started scenting Sydney this last week or so. 

If this dank little house were mine, I'd plant hydrangeas in the front and install the matching Edit chair in the stunted triangular little sitting room.