Polaroids from Paris: {Writing Letters to Papa Noel}

The little girl I watch over each afternoon explained to me her letter to Papa Noel, none other than Santa Clause.
Her list was composed of things that little girls of a different generation might ask for:
le maquillage et les poupees
I can imagine, simple enough  for the elves in Santa's workshop to manufacture. I wonder with such modern Christmas lists these days, how could could they possibly keep up. I picture some children sending Santa a quick text or an IM of their wishes, and him receiving it via his IPad. And how completely old fashioned it is to get a lump of coal for bad behavior, perhaps technology could make an appearance in some sort of negative form, eh?
With all this modernity, I do say that I appreciate the simple things.
I am loving my strolls along the seasoned streets, and the justification to purchase some roasted chestnuts simply because my hands are cold, and they just smell so incredibly delightful.
I have been taking a daily detour from home to work to walk past the butcher stands on rue Levi just to smell the roasting rotisserie chickens.
And all of the pretty clementines in season, that add that extra citrus scent to one's fingers.
Though it may be difficult to tune into such sensory elements when the air is biting and one's toes are numb, but this season offers so much visually, and the many diverse comforting scents only accentuate the atmosphere.

The Paris Market windows in Savannah are set-up and ready.
And the elves seems to be at work, or they make that appearance...
Bisous,
Reba