The morning light is brighter here; it streams through my living room window like summer in Missouri. On its path it touches the nearly ripe oranges on the tree between nearly awake me and the street. I've always wanted fruit trees.
Our new home, our temporary home, is a place of bright sunshine. White walls that could feel cold are warmed and made homey by lace curtains and leaded glass windows from other Victorian buildings somewhere. Floral rugs and paintings feel right in this space. I wonder how long it will take me to realize this is now my home.
I feel lucky to live here. This home is wonderful. You can tell it was prepared with love and care, from the multitude of mirrors in the bath to the hand laid mosaic that winds paths into the backyard. There are ripe lemons back there too.
But as wonderful as it is, I still feel asleep. I cannot quite believe that I no longer live in the city that has always been my home. I'm almost sad to think of no more gray winters... until I remember how sad they soon become.
Lily... Lily doesn't realize that we moved. She seems to like our new home though.