Apologies to Daphne du Maurier for mucking with her opening line to my favourite novel – Rebecca. 

But truly I did dream this last night.  That I was at the gorgeous Parisian institution for all things delectable Laduree.   The spiritual home of the macaroon. 

Sweeten your day, have a look at their website, it is tres chic – the opening scene.

How can I be so sure that it was not just one of those dozing thoughts that pop into your head when you lie in bed in the morning – for just a minute?  Before flinging yourself at the day.

Well because in this dream I was 5 foot nine, size 8 and wearing head to toe Chanel.  Every single one of those details is so not my reality.

I do love how the subconscious works. Why did I have the dream I wonder?    Maybe because it was exactly a year ago that I visited Paris with my sister – for a girls only trip to The City of Lights.

• Where yes we were eating in Paris – Pistachio macaroons, and Caramel and Chocolate and…well more than the French women were eating anyway.
• Where we bought each other a vintage Hermes scarf – fighting over one before both choosing another.
• Where we arrived for dinner in a very chic restaurant – with neither of us wearing black and thus ensuring we stood out from the very beautiful and dark clad crowd.
• Where we stayed up all night – lying in our VERY close twin beds in our VERY tiny twin room. Eating sweeties and laughing like young girls.

A trip clearly imprinted in my memory.  Giving easy access to it in my sweet slumber…Because I cannot go to Paris again this week – or next – I get my fix from the wonderful Vicki Archer’s blog  french essence it’s almost as good as being there.