Every morning I walk to work and pass four or five of these enclosures containing Christmas trees ready to be netted and sold. I speak so often of trust and these trees are another marker: placed, there, waiting patiently, open to the skies. Also, there is something lovely about the scent of pine that fills the surrounding sidewalks.
When I reach my office, I make myself a cup of Yunnan tea to drink by the window while I gather my thoughts for the day: such are the pleasures of routine. When Paper and Tea asked if they might send me a box of tea treats, I said of course. The texture of the furled, crinkly tea leaves in the packet of Savanna Gold delighted me. The surprise of its smoky, precise flavor made me notice what I was drinking for the first time in a while: the pleasure of a break in routine.
A French-British trio invited us along for cassoulet, and I brought a friend. The lamp above our heads was gilt and gave off the warmest light. Antoine played the guitar; a tow-headed toddler demolished the tiny sausages set out in bowls. I came away with a glow, reminded of the joy of gathering with strangers and friends around a table at home.
I came away with a recommendation too. A guest at the dinner table told me of a children's book his wife had produced, created in 1945 by the German Dadaist Hannah Höch. She went to visit the nephew and took away this priceless copy of her manuscript, now it's a book and I've bought it from S.
When I took out these three cookies (handmade Zimtsterne) to take their photograph by the window, a spicy cinnamon scent wafted up to me from the windowsill. They are definedly nutty beneath the brittle layer of fleeting sweetness. I suggest, if at all possible, that you take yourself to Das süße Leben and buy yourself a packet before Christmas.
And here's wishing you moments of quiet delight in the days to come.