Hogar: (n). home, household

When you realize you've made a mistake:

Tuesday June 18th marked my one month anniversary in Buenos Aires.  It wasn't until today, however, that the reality of that mile marker set in.  It is shocking to think that in eight (8) more weeks I will be heading home to Richmond.  Home to Richmond.  Don't take this the wrong way, but it sounds a little... strange.

I'm not saying that it doesn't sounds good - it DOES.

In ten days I'll be moving back to Belgrano to live "en casa de familia" / "with a host family"

But, the truth that I, at least, can't handle is that I've grown rather fond of my little apartment.  Sure, it's bridging the gap between living alone and being on vacation, but that's not the point.

I've never lived "alone".  I've lived "on my own" (dime), before and I've "slummed it" and "roughed it" in a dorm before and not once - no - but twice.  

But, I've never had my own chandelier and there is something to that.

And while it is one hemisphere and a gazillion miles away from home (and by home I mean where YOU are), I've come to find my own "nido gaucho" / "little country home" here in Buenos Aires.  A place where I can enjoy a light lunch (even at 4:00pm) in a little peace and privacy.

Here, in spite of the "caos" / "chaos" of the city outside my glass always feels half full , even if it isn't.  (Which, it usually is thanks to friends in Palermo who have provided me with a well stocked little wine cabinet "por las dudas" / "just in case").

 It's a place where, whatever I've forgotten (hair dryer, curling iron, straightener or floral tape...) somehow knew I was coming and helpfully flung itself into the junk drawer.  And waited for me - patiently.  

It's a one in a million (and short/long term rentals are very popular in Buenos Aires) sort of place that even cleans itself magically on Tuesday mornings; where missing socks and slippers re-appear.  

And despite the fact that it's winter - and usually a windy something-in-the-low-to-mid-fifties - flowers are always in bloom.

Will I miss the 10:00-11:00 morning piano recitals upstairs: Probably.

Will I miss "racing" the clunky old elevator up the stairs (and winning): Yes.

Will I crave the comfort of having my own little electric stove top: Of course.

Will I wish I had slept sideways and diagonal more often to make the most of my Queen sized bed: Undoubtedly.

Am I tickled to add one more door to my collection of "Home Sweet Homes" in Buenos Aires...

  

You can  bet your last box of Ziplock bags on it!