Ahh…books! There’s something about holding them in your hands, the way they smell, the rustle of their pages as you open the cover. One of my favorite places to lose myself in is a bookshop – whether it’s old or new (although, I must prefer old).

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Just around the corner from us is Shakespeare & Company. Outside there are shelves and stands of used books for you to browse and then once you walk inside…oh…the character, the expressions, the sighs of delight as you gaze upon rows and rows of books. I’m sure we only meant to stay in there for a few minutes, but I swear – time seems so still as you make your way through all the nooks and crannies. You’re gazing at history – all the little notes, pictures, favored books … it’s not something you can rush.

And of course – walking away empty handed really isn’t an option as well! I love to find old books…1940 and earlier (I know, that’s not really old, but it looks like it). The first book I picked up was a first edition, 1940 story set in Paris (of all places). Of course I had to get it. I carried it with me as I made my way up the stairs and into the the areas were countless of readers, writers and poets have congregated to talk about a similar love – of storytelling.

Really – just this visit alone has made this day amazing. There is a little patisserie just around the corner where I ate a chocolate cream puff….but I ate it too fast to describe it. All I can and will say is … amazing.

I’m listening to the bells of Notre Dame as I lie in bed writing this post. I don’t think that is a sound I would ever tire of listening to!

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