. . . a wonderful wednesday afternoon and thoughts are drifting, drifting to far off places — to romantic canals and glass museums, tiny boulangeries and grand archways, a sweet nostalgia for all the places we have been, and all of the places still in our dreams . . .
. . . and if there was any doubt as to how fleeting the summer months are, one week of wimbledon, the world’s oldest & most prestigious tennis tournament, has already come and gone, unavoidably missed, due to wonderful projects and whirlwind travels, but, happily, still the final week left of royal attendees and crisp summer whites, impossible excitement and, of course, strawberries & cream . . .