My heart swells with emotion whenever I return to Baisogala. When I step into my Senelė's flat, I am stepping back not just in time, but into the world when I was a child growing up, spending summer's there. Much of the flat has been unchanged in decades - the smell as you walk in, the wooden flooring, the hundreds of books - it all makes it an extremely special place. 

As I look out the front main windows, I am greeted by the Chimney Crow on the rooftops of the flat opposite. Perched up on a chimney, he sits, umbrella in hand, observing the world around him. It is a peculiar monument, one which I do not know the history, but one which I have loved to look at over the years. I often forget its existence until I'm in Baisogala, but once I look out the window, I remember I am home.

An age-old tradition is getting bagged yoghurt and sitting in the kitchen, pouring it into a glass, and drinking it as if it were water. It is so basic, yet it is so satisfying. For some reason, yoghurt from a bag is so tasty in ways that the British don't understand. I simply love it. 

We try not to finish the bagged yoghurt in one sitting, in part because I am lactose intolerant but, more importantly, to save some for later. When it's my first day back I like to soak in the emotions and feelings the flat surfaces in me. I take some time to look at the photos, the old books, the various memorabilia from Lithuania and around the world, for all of Senele's children (including my mum) have travelled to all corners of the earth at some stage or another, including Senele! 

The old wallpaper is faded and in some parts peeling from the walls and is probably due a change. But in a way, I never want it to change. To change the home materially may change my experience of the place... well, that is my fear anyway. 

Before bed, I will go into Senele's room (my mum associates this room with her Dad, my granddad, as it was formerly my his room, although I never met him and so myself associate with Senele). In the drawers of her desk, I will go through them one by one - here is where the magic is. Various documents from all different parts of history are in here, some of it feels it should be in a museum. The most interesting thing I've found being a documents for someone (not Senele or anyone in the family for that matter) during the German occupation of Lithuania during World War I. 

After an hour or so of being nosy and rummaging through her drawers, I retire to bed. The bed is a collection of cubes which can be used as stools, combined to make a sofa, or in our case - a bed. It is the same one I slept on as a kid. Despite slightly more comfortable options in the flat, I choose it because of its the final piece of the puzzle that confirms to me where I am. 

I usually try to stay up as late as possible, reading, watching TV or laptop, or anyway to distract myself really. But the nights in the village are quiet and dark, especially in winter, so it is never long before I slumber off to a good night sleep. Waking up in the morning is usually bittersweet, for it usually means we are one day closer to having to leave. I could spend a month there without getting bored. 

Then it's off to the kitchen for some bagged yoghurt, or what is left of it...