Spring and I think of Paris, well, April in Paris, chestnuts in blossom. Although I don't recall ever having seen chestnut trees in Paris. But I have known some cafés intimately. I was a regular at a café near the Place Colette, off the rue de Rivoli. It broke my heart when it closed its doors after a long, long life. My other haunt was Le Malakoff at Place du Trocadéro, le Troc as we referred to it. It's still there, I'm happy to say. And the café at Gare de l'Est, the suburban railway station; I had many a café-crème there while waiting for my train.
Remembering my husband, the tea drinker
Simplicity is the removal of the useless and the unnecessary--source unknown