Coffee Routine.

Enjoy­ing a lat­te ear­ly on a Sun­day morning.

A qui­et walk down emp­ty streets. The sun stream­ing through the leaf­less trees. Only my neigh­bors walk­ing their dogs and enjoy­ing a tourist free zone — for at least a lit­tle while. Then retreat­ing to our homes for a qui­et time as the tourists and week­enders descend.

True Story

This week I text a pal to see if she wants to have lunch at Steven Starrs French Bistro Parc. It’s as close to sit­ting on a Paris street as one can get while still being in Philadel­phia. I got a text back, “Ah… would love to but we’re in Paris.”  With a pic. Not this one. This one is in Philadelphia.