Today was a day of few words. A day of attacking grimy corners and of looking out of windows. Of melting snow and brewing tea. Of the few possessions I brought with me, one treasured item was an enamel orange tea pot of my grandmothers. It has “Made in Yugoslavia’ stamped on the bottom. I used to play with it as a child, imagining it belonged in a gypsy caravan. Maybe a 1946 converted school bus isn’t too far away from that image.