64 sq ft kitchen

Busy bee in the kitchen, hoping from a cookie to another.
Busy bee in the kitchen, rolling in sugar, cinnamon and honey.
The bee baked and ate, and baked again. She added flour, nuts, rose water and sugar a million times. She ate and baked, and ate again....

Thirteen hours, three planes, four airports and one sleepy toddler later, I was finally in Montpellier, France, hugging my sister and resting my head and my body on a real comfy bad, having a real exquisite meal.
I was exhausted, yet excited. I was drowsy, yet couldn’t sleep. I don’t remember how the first day went by, or how I managed to do it all. I don’t remember what I saw, or what I said the first day. I remember Marion, and her beautiful smile, at the airport...

I wake up every morning in my bedroom, where I have my orange painted closet, my teenage books, my grandparents’ old wireless radio and some dried roses still stapled over my desk; and I realize that I am home. It feels good. It feels really good.
Some furniture has been added around the house, old neighbors moved out and new ones moved in, more cats came to the nearby printing works and the lemon tree has finally started to bless us, but I still drink my milk in the same mug and still love taking...

I meant to tell you more stories today.
I meant to tell you about the neighbourhood market, the home brined olives, the pile of juicy organic oranges in our kitchen, the street foods, the people, the roadside vendors, the local art, the local music, the regional clothes, the sand, the sea...