Not my patch blanket.

I told her Mummy would not allow.

I never thought I'd feel this way but - I miss the patch blanket, and the noisy fan. The dusty rooms and the old rusty pots and pans. The sewing machine, the moss-filled fish tank. I miss the different smell of incense and looking out onto the green green grass patch. I miss the funky-smelling couch and the old toilet floors. I miss it, unexpectedly.

However, I still want to be there to bai nian.