It does seem like a palace. To live in a room three times the size of my room back home. To have a closet. A dining room. Porches galore.
The morning light wakes me early, the best sort of alarm clock. I wonder what waking here will be like in the winter. When people hear I’ve just moved to Massachusetts they warn me about the winters. And then I tell them I’ve moved from the frozen tundra and they laugh. You’ll do just fine then, they say. I think I will.
It is quiet here this morning. Everyone else is working or gone for the weekend. I can have breakfast on the porch, read my book and take my time through the day. There are letters to catch up on and, yes, still studying to do. Maybe I will explore the library. I am trying to remember to take time to be still.
For my fellow grocery store tourists – current count is five stores (four different chains), two of which I REALLY like and two of which I will NOT return to. I need to find a phone book and look for smaller stores. No one seems to know if there is an asian grocery or a store where I can get decent chili peppers. I am enjoying exploring the new city.
I miss the smallish bears. Not early in the morning, but other times throughout the day. It is strange not to hear their random observations of the world. Not to see their crazy dances. I hope this decision of mine does not break them. I am afraid still.
The Palace has a Post Office Box. The girl with the key likes mail. Just so you know.
