So it’s my third day home from a visit to Alberta.
It seems that every day since I arrived home has presented a challenge or two.
Nothing devastating mind you, but each has caused my heart to beat faster and my head to feel a bit “full”. There is also the shoulder issue. You know, that spot between the blades where you carry stress. That’s where I carry mine.
Let’s be very clear!
These stresses are not worthy of mention in a world where there is such deep sadness and struggle.
They are bumps along the road. Not serious, but I feel them, like in a car where the “shocks” are wearing down.
I have worked through the details and today, went for a walk.
Took a deep breath of cold air.
Listened to the few brave birds singing and thought how, even though struggles come and stresses need to be worked out, I am loved and I know what joy is.
There is much to be thankful for.

Having clarified, I want to tell you about my own
“Little shop around the corner.”
There are no books here, as there were in Meg Ryan’s in “You’ve got mail”.

Just pastries and coffee and yummy salads and
three French ladies.
The mother, the daughter and the daughter’s daughter.
They are lovely.
You can tell when the maitre d’ of an establishment is actually the owner.
There is a special kind of attention to detail and they look you in the eye when you walk through the door.
These ladies smile
greet you graciously as though you were entering their home.
I sometimes wonder, picture what their homes might be like.
Perhaps not posh or sophisticated although I couldn’t say, but I think, welcoming. Calm.
This place is.
It is uncommon in this century.
I often stop there when I am out and about.

I am funny that way. To stop for a relaxing cup of something and a pastry is a favorite activity of mine.
It has been only recently that I began to develop a taste for coffee.
Not the strong, black, a spoon can stand on end in it, kind of coffee.
No, I like the gentle, one shot, or even half(Smile) with some milk and then that pretty foam on the top. Add cinnamon or better still, chocolate, to that foam and you’ve got me. Give me a ceramic bowl or cup, even better.
Call me extravagant but I really do adore pastries. Put the word French in front of the word pastry and I am a happy gal.

It doesn’t get much better than a little corner cafe (although it doesn’t have to be on a corner)a croissant or danish and now, in my old age, a cappuccino. A year ago I struggled with the spelling of the word cappuccino.
For me it isn’t just the flavors of the food and drink. It’s the experience. My husband will tell you I don’t care for noisy restaurants and places where people are sitting shoulder to shoulder, needing to lean over the table and YELL in order to be heard.
Nope, not my favorite.
Quiet, intimate, friendly, tasty, get a nod from me.
So
I have just learned that this special place
(down the street and on a corner)
is about to close it’s doors. In just two months.
Well, as I spoke to one of the ladies today (I think it was the daughter and not the daughter’s daughter) I might have teared up. Just a bit. For a second.
I am sad about the closing.
What will happen in that little corner cafe? Will someone move in and rip it apart and put in an oyster bar? (or any kind of a bar for that matter)
There is a place for those things but not here, not this corner.
Life will continue
But I will miss this rare gem and it’s marble tabletops when I am at the end of a long walk.
Life changes
People change and move
It’s going to be ok
This little haven will have disappeared but the pleasant memories of sweet creations, gourmet delicacies, will last. That’s how it is with memories. They live.
If you can’t find me and you want to in the next two months, try looking for me at
Patachou!