Later on in live, I wish to buy a house with enough rooms. Rooms enough so that I could decorate each one completely different. A bedroom that reflects the things I love, with a romantic touch. A bathroom representing calmness with white clean walls and a victorian bath underneath the window. A hallway with a wooden staircase that is mystically beautiful but happy and invites people to come in. A kitchen that allows people to see the magic behind the dishes being made and the happiness of the people living in the house. Followed by an open dining room with a fire place to connect people and let them feel the warmth and love of my family. A living room that invites people into a place that allows them to travel around the world. Books until the ceiling, giving people the opportunity to discover new worlds within my home. A study that mirrors the creative minds working there. At last, a garden, a garden that happily changes its looks with the seasons coming along, whilst its beauty remains. Loosing, sleeping, dying, growing and expanding its beauty with flowers, each year again. A home where my children get to know me by observing the house and its interior. The details in the corner of the ceiling, that one book on the shelf. Even when I will not be around, they will know who I was, who I am, who I will be.