A few years before I had Paris as my backdrop, I studied abroad in London for three short months. Rationing all of my weak dollars for pints and their resulting kebabs, the only thing I could afford from the Portabello Market was my very first clementine. I plucked off its leaves and the skin snapped open, spritzing the air with its parfum. Each segment took me to a sunnier place. I had my first clementine of the season this weekend. And it instantly transported me back to my very first, a little taste of sunshine in an equally grey place.
. . . . .
Right on!
Thanks so much!
Thanks! Now go eat a clementine!
One of my favorite things about winter is definitely clementines.
Lovely lovely lovely story.
This brightened my morning=)