We’ve swapped our bedroom with our study room at Makoko, so our bedroom is now the corner room with double the windows, double the breeze and double the sunlight. Brilliant.
The birds are happily chirp chirp chirping outside the window.
The smell of dinner is wafting through the windows and it smells like fresh baked bread. And although the bread here leaves a lot to be desired (it’s your standard, cardboard-ish American homemade white bread, which I guess is better than store-bought white bread, but miles away from the crusty Italian loaf I’d give my right arm for), when I start to smell dinner and homemade bread, my salivary glands start working overtime and I get really excited at the possibility of dinner. The food here is tasty, but simple. I’ve yet to get bored with the lack of spices, olive oil or pasta. So my mind starts to wander at what could be on the table tonight.*
*I’ve just returned from dinner and it was pizza! And, it was not half bad. I thought that’s what I smelled earlier, but I talked myself out of it because I didn’t want to get my hopes up.