New York



TOP: My favorite corner of our apartment, decorated for Easter in the form of some yellow daffodils and a little påskkärring (Easter “witch”, a Swedish tradition) busy stamping her paper Easter egg.

BOTTOM: A bright, pretty corner in our neighborhood, finally opening up to the hesitant spring and ready for many days ahead of brunch in the sun.


13/52 Corner


L’Angolo, the corner, is one of my favourite boutiques in Cagliari. I haven’t been in yet this time but over the years I’ve made many purchases, including at least two pairs of boots in their winter sales. The shop assistants like me because I have large English feet and buy up the last remaining pairs of size 40 that are big for their daintier Italian customers.

This isn’t the only business on a Cagliari corner to have the word angolo in its name. I heard about another one this week when my father-in-law told us a long story about having to meet a plumber on behalf of his brother in a neighbourhood he didn’t know so well. 

The short version was something like this:

Plumber: I’ll meet you at the bar on the corner.

Father-in-law: OK… But I don’t know which corner you mean…

Plumber: No! The bar is called ‘The bar on the corner!’

EditIt made me laugh, and also reminded me that even when you’ve lived in a city your whole life, you can never know its every nook and cranny, or see it from every angle, and maybe what matters is to concentrate on making your corner of it feel like home.