J. I've found my house in Italy and/or Ireland! Even though this one is in Provence, you can capture the spirit of it.
I wake here on an April 1 morning, tiptoe sleepily, unsteadily, down the stone steps, steaming coffee in hand to wander through the garden and take stock of all the spring-growing progress. Gravel crunches and prickles under my bare feet as noisy birds conduct management meetings in the trees. Dew-wet earth smells heady and the scent clings to the inside of my nose. As I lazily wander, the morning sun generously warms my slowly waking muscles and the breeze, still a little crisp from the night, pushes my hair around my shoulders.
As lovely as the reality might be, just having the dream is enough...for today.