We have only been home for a few days and I am already missing Paris. Last night I dreamt of the men on the street corners selling tiny little bouquets of lily of the valley. Every time I saw a woman walking home with one I had a sudden urge to buy one, but I refrained knowing that mine would be in full bloom when I returned home. Now when I walk out my back door and breathe in that intoxicating scent, I am taken back to Paris. I brought a little bouquet inside to brighten up my morning routine in the bath. The vase is a black glazed ceramic yogurt pot from the patisserie "Paul" that I dragged all through Europe in my carry-on.
Who does that? Please no snide remarks about my nerdiness, Mr. laughed at me every time the pot came tumbling out as I dug in the bag for my camera, chapstick, or umbrella! Oh, and I won't go into how I now completely refuse to eat yogurt from a plastic container. Ah Paris, even the yogurt is superior!
