Where the garden ends the forest begins. A small forest but still a forest. I grew up here and my parents still live here. They are 75 years old. They collect stuff. Everything. The sofa is so full of pillows - where are the people supposed to sit ? Me and my daughter are always welcome though. There is still room for us. My father can make almost anything out of wood. My mother can sow almost anything. And build stuff out of wood too. There are a lot of cobwebs in the house. Dust in the corners. If the apocalypse hits us in the next few years, if the power disappears and diseases kill half the people in the world, I’m quite sure my mother and father would be able to survive a long time. They can get heat and cook on the wood stove. They have sheeps to eat and lots of vegetables in the garden. They would survive a long time because even now they would build, grow or make something by hand rather than buying it. They would probably miss television for a while. But they read a lot and own thousands of books. If the apocalypse hit, their life wouldn't be so much different than it is today.