Carytown at Christmas: perfection. This is the place you go with friends, and one of them buys you a present behind your back. This is the place you go with your niece, and laugh at the dachshund sculptures in the window and relax over a sandwich on a golden Friday before she moves far, far away. This is the place X and I dream of wandering together. This is the place where you go to the used bookstore and come away with four or five gifts and still feel like you could buy fifty more wonderful things (not all of them for others ...).
This is The Place. One of the best around.
At Christmas - and year round - it smells beautiful. It feels so good. The creaking of old floorboards underfoot. The fascination of craftsmanship. The loveliness and liberation of: *local* commerce. The joy of food, entertainment - fried pickles - expensive boutiques and (far better still) the Goodwill. Carytown at Christmas. Excellent way to spend an afternoon.
And plus - my shopping is finished ...
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