Sundays are for lovers

And what if life is all about changing your coffee shop?

New coffee shop, new perspectives?

One of my favorite pleasures during the week-end, when I happen to be in Paris, is to buy the press and settle at the terrace of the coffee shop across the street. I just adore sinking in the news, getting drunk with the crazy rumours of the world, being ravished by the colors of Elle...

There are so many things to express, and so little to say.

And what if happiness is all about this kind of little pleasures?

My boiling café-crème, the first bite in my almond croissant, picking up the grains of sugar on the table,  finding a coin under my chair, chitchatting with the garçon de café, with my old neighbor, with the florist, the baker, the janitor...

Some times ago, an ex pretender would get upset with me sinking in the newspapers on Sunday without paying attention to him, he thought we would soon look like an old couple, having nothing to say to each other. Well, truth is that I realized I actually had nothing to say to him anymore, and the problem was soon solved. I still enjoy my reading on Sundays, and I'm better alone.

But this morning, there was no more table for me at my favorite spot. We had to find another one, which happened to be even sunnier than my usual one.

At least Gizmo lets me read Le Monde and Elle, while he is sunbathing. I gained fresh ideas on a problem that is torturing me, a wise decision, and some freckles on my nose.

New terrace, new perspectives.

Gizmo sunbathing at the terrace of Café M, 1 rue de Maubeuge, Paris 9th, Sunday 27 February, 10h24 am.