Round up the usual suspects

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It was very refreshing and comforting all at the same time sitting in that French cafe. All the usual suspects were there. The teenagers wearing piercings, hoodies and sullen looks. The group of men in pageboy caps drinking minuscule glasses of white wine and gesticulating wildly over Le Figaro. A couple meeting for a quick drink during their lunch break.

And my favorites, the patrons sliding gracefully into their 7th decade at the table in front of me whose pretty mini dogs sporting doggie sweaters sat on chairs with them at the table. There was a man without a hair on his head who made up for it with a big gray mustache and prominent artsy glasses with thick black rims. He had a min pin with a red sweater. The woman sitting across from him had raspberry-colored hair forced onto the very top of her head by a dozen barrettes and clips, the same exact color as her coat, even the faux-fur collar. I wonder which came first: the hair dye or the coat? I would love to see where they live. I imagine their apartment to be drenched in light and full of plants.

Apparently the town Mulhouse is pronounced mool-OOze like Toulouse and not like MULL-house like I assumed. Whoops. Apparently my French is rustier than I thought. But that’s not where I was on Saturday. I was in Colmar.

Colmar is circled in red, just south of Strasbourg, in the Alsace region of France.

Not too shabby for a $30 and a 45 minute round trip train ride.

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About Petunia

She wore rings on her fingers and bells on her shoes And I knew without asking she was into the blues She wore scarlet begonias tucked into her curls I knew right away she was not like other girls ~The Grateful Dead
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2 Responses to Round up the usual suspects

  1. Grandma says:

    What a talent you have for bringing an event to life. I can just see /feel /absorb the whole atmosphere.At some point I’m sure you will be a writer. Also brought back memories of sitting in Paris at a sidewalk cafe years ago. Thanks. Love Grandma

    • Petunia says:

      So writing on this blog doesn’t count as me being a writer? j/k 🙂 And I was definitely not on the sidewalk, it was 25 degrees outside! You’ll have to tell me about your Paris cafe experience next time I come down to PA.

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