Bo and Bi makes no sense
   
Within D26, I have two boyta bedrooms that no one ever goes in for weeks on end, and a bathroom that’s used for maybe 20 minutes a day. There are several large pieces of furniture, like a large dining room table, a large kitchen table, a large coffee table in the living room, and various cupboards and shelving units that totally block several square metres of boyta, making it inaccessible and essentially useless other than as storage.
   
However, I use my basement gym every day for an hour. The garages are constantly used, housing boats and motorbikes. I use the guest house as a workshop pretty much every day. And the parts of my bedroom where the roof slopes to below 1,9 metres are just as useful as the taller parts as I sleep under both.
   
So why do we have bo and biyta? They’re both as useful as each other. Both as valuable. It’s an entirely pointless delineation. Something made up by tax people, and primarily used mindlessly by mäklare. Which offers a significant opportunity for buyers.
   
By not blindly using a tax person/mäklare’s definition of bo and bi, it’s possible to unlock huge amounts of value by defining your own bo and bi based on how you will actually use that space.
   
Often, a mäklare will completely miss huge areas of a property because they don’t fall under the tax person’s definition of bo or bi. And I’ve yet to meet a mäklare who knows how to use a tape measure.
   
When I bought D26, the mäklare got no further than looking up the tax documents, and sold me 152 kvm of boyta and 19 kvm of biyta, basing the price on that area. Which meant I got 101 kvm for free. And if you add the garden, that is one of the most used boytas for almost half the year, it’s even more.
   
Before realising this, I always wondered why I managed to buy D26 for half the price of a house just across the road that sold a few months before, when D26 is only around 27% smaller – and arguably nicer, and in a better location.
   
Always buy based on what’s useful to YOU, not the tax authorities. Because when did they ever do anything for you?

A convenient wilderness
   
I get to wake up, get on my bike, and blast around a forest for 20km or so.

During that trip, I’ll not only be immersed in the trees and other plant life, I’ll see plenty of wildlife. Birds of prey, woodpeckers, capercaillies, deer, often moose and wild boar. Sometimes it feels a little like scuba diving through untouched undersea landscapes, watching life go about its business. Sometimes you may meet a fellow diver, but that’s rare. You’re almost always on your own with the beauty. And your thoughts.
   
Three quarters of an hour later, I’m home, and pumped. Full of energy, ideas and solutions for the day. The noise has gone and the signals are strong.
   
Crank some tunes, then twenty minutes downstairs in the gym to add a little strength to the cardio, and then it’s time to fuel up for the day. Breakfast.
   
Ever opened the fridge and picked up the milk carton to find it’s too light? Not a problem in D26. I have another fridge packed with all the milk I’d ever need two minutes walk away. It’s called ICA (or COOP if I’m in the mood).
   
Even if it feels like it might, I’m afraid even this lifestyle won’t allow me to live forever. But I’m going to have the smoothest, most content time all the way to the drop. 

Eat yerself fitter.
   
I love having an edible garden. It was my eldest daughter’s idea. Yes, we always had the fruit trees and bushes, but she came up with the veg. It used to be a relatively useless patch of grass. And then we dug it up. Boosted the quality of the soil, and planted a random selection of seeds. And they grew.
   
We didn’t really know what we were doing back then, and ended up with more lettuce than ICA. We’re better at apportioning the land now, and get a wide range of eating. This year’s discovery is beetroot. I’d never eaten it before other than pickled, out of a jar as a kid. And I have no idea what made me decide to plant it, but I’m happy I did. Roasted with a little garlic, it’s spectacular. And roasted with goat’s cheese, it’s sublime. And the leaves are like a nicer, more interesting spinach.
   
Last night’s simple dinner of roast chicken, roast beetroot, steamed beetroot leaves, and freshly dug potatoes and carrots, with my favourite sauce made from home-made chicken stock and blackcurrant jelly (made from blackcurrants out of the garden), not only tasted incredible, it might even - as professed by the top man that is Mark E Smith - make us all fitter. 

I do love a wet summer​.

Summer’s on. It’s taken a while to get started. And it’s still spluttering like an old car that needs a new spark plug or three. But at least the temperature’s turned up – and we get a day or two of sunshine each week.

There isn’t much better than waking up, sliding out of bed, flipping on the kettle, and wandering out into the garden to absorb the morning rays. See which flowers are out, and which parts of the garden are ready to eat. And then sit with my tea and plan the day.
   
The first sail of the season happened a couple of weeks ago. A few sunny, gusty days. I dusted off my daughter’s little pink dinghy, found all the bits, and dragged it down to the lake. A careful rigging – I usually forget something on the premiere – and then launched into an offshore breeze.
   
The boat’s quite unstable with my fat arse on board. It’s like balancing on a beach ball. But the challenge of getting as much speed out of it while keeping it upright is fantastic fun. Even when I fail and take an unplanned swim.
   
After a couple of hours skimming over the surface of the lake with one of the world’s most beautiful views over my shoulder, I’m ready to drag the boat home and collapse into a seat in the garden with a silly grin plastered across my face. I’m sure there must be nicer places to live, but I can’t think of any during those moments.