A mix of photos taken around Paris:
I had hot chocolate at a new coffee place the other day. It looks great, right?, but it was tepid and probably made from a mix. From now on I will ask if it is ancienne, or made in house, like at Angelina’s.
My friend and I wandered down rue Mouffetard which is lined with shops. I always think scallops look especially beautiful and photogenic.
A waffle for sale. You see them for sale all over France but, in fact, as you can see by the little flags, they originated in Belgium.
I love the elegant writing advertising drinks for sale inside this café.
We went into a church at the base of the rue and they still had the creche set up with large sort of Santons gathered around.
An old sign, sort of falling apart, high above on a building with a shop now called something else.
How to be Parisian-you just need this striped sweater. I’ve always loved striped shirts but will never consider myself Parisian. I’m just too American. I have an American friend who lives here however who could be.
Speaking of being American, I have a bit of confusion going on. All of my life my Mom said her grandmother was a full blooded Cherokee Indian and that my high cheek bones showed that. My Grandfather said he was half Indian. The last time I was in the States I had one of those cheek swab tests for DNA on my Mom’s side expecting it to show those Indian genes. To my surprise and confusion, I’m about as far from being Indian as you can get. Not one tracer shows that. In fact, there is an almost 90% chance that the relatives from my mother’s side were originally from Slovenia! I am now thinking of planning a trip there to see if I can spot high cheek bones. Maybe Mrs. Trump is a cousin.