I'm often moved by posts I read on other blogs, but nothing's hit me quite so much recently as
this one from
the paris breakfast blog. It just makes me think of how many other dreams have been lost like the one this woman had, and how lucky I am to live even a little bit of one. I can't stop thinking about the mother taking pleasure later on in inspecting how the garments were made, rather than just what they looked like. It's like writing - one real joy of reading is taking apart a story, novel, whatever, to see how the writer created it. And
the post is certainly well written, with just the perfect proportions and absolutely straight seams.
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