Pursuits of a Winter Morning

This morning is a perfectly calm Sunday  enjoyed in bed drinking tea and playing with books and stamps. The tea is a relaxing one-pear ginger white tea from Trader Joe's, complemented wonderfully with a milano cookie; the books are beautiful ones to peruse-first, a Venice Sketchbook comprised of watercolour paintings and sketches and secondly, Vivian Swift's latest travel journal, this one on visiting France. And finally, I have with me an assortment of recently purchased stamps that I have wasted no time in using-as you can see in the first picture, I've used them to decorate a set of simple cards for my correspondences. 

So here I am, with my tea and books and stamps and my yellow matalasse bedspread along with the joy of the early Sunday hours. 

L.A. Burdick Chocolate Shop and Cafe

Whenever I move, the first places I become attached to are cafes. To me, they are like little welcoming homes dotted across the landscape. When I studied in Berlin, I spent much of my free time exploring the dozens upon dozens of cafes, finding myself delighted with each one.  The very words cafe, coffeehouse, chocolaterie are near holy words in my mind. I love conjuring up images in my mind of the institution through the ages, from the eighteenth-century coffeehouse to the cafes in Central and Eastern Europe at the turn of the century, filled with individuals seeking change and innovation as they slowly sipped their drinks. I love imagining them as sites of both intellectual activity but also quiet comfort. The doors of the cafe are always open to me if I want to write the next great American novel or simply drink an espresso and stare at the ceiling. I can do as much or as little as I like and it is still the perfect setting for either. 

I am slowly picking and choosing my favorites in the city, but the L.A. Burdick Chocolate Shop and Cafe in Harvard Square has quickly made it onto that list. You can see by it's colorful, striped walls how inviting and warm it is and every time I have visited, it's entirely packed. Most people come for one thing: the hot chocolate. For the first time since I left Europe, I have tasted true, rich hot chocolate just as it's supposed to be-so thick that only a little is what you need. But what perfection it is! They offer their hot chocolate using either milk or dark varieties and also have country-specific options. I confess that pour moi it has been the Peppermint Milk Hot Chocolate every time. 

Nothing tastes better on a cold, winter's afternoon in New England. 

A Winter Stroll Past Harvard

The first time I visited Harvard was well over a year ago. I remember feeling almost nervous as I climbed the stairs from the underground T that led to Harvard Square. Surely to walk on the campus of Harvard meant that my mind had to be at its sharpest, my mental behavior at its best. Would others think I was a student? I could pretend I was if I so wanted, if only for that afternoon. And of course I wanted! It is a wonderful thing to pretend in such occasions.  My grandfather went to Harvard-a grandfather I never met-and as I stood in the Harvard Yard for the first time, it was as if I was meeting him as well. 

Now, the campus and its surrounding area have become quite familiar to me and the awe of the place is not what it used to be. Still, the buildings hold an air of tantalizing mystery about them and I want to know the secrets of their  architecture and the stories of the students who studied within them.  All in good time, I am sure.

For now, it is pleasant enough to walk Harvard's paths and take photographs of everything that is beautiful to me. It was very romantic this past weekend, what with its snow covered lawns and clear blue skies, home to students wrapped in scarves and carrying satchels and trying desperately to think important thoughts. I may even have tried alongside them. When in Rome...