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  • We moved into our new house bruised and broken. Our clothes smelt of mould from the walls that had been crumbling, the old house clung to us.
    I had been so busy working that my first day at our new house was the day of our move.
    Exhausted after packing and unpacking the furniture and memories of the last year we sat out in the garden and looked up at the lemon tree.
    The whole garden had a light sweet smell and the tree was almost bent double it was so laden with big beautiful lemons.
    We wandered over, picked them, smelt them. Rubbed their waxy skin against our cheeks and promised that we would try not to waste them. They were too good. Bigger and juicer than anything we could buy. So I learnt to make lemon tart.
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