It was (oh wait, still is since the sun doesn’t set until 8pm!) a glorious day in Paris today. Sunny, crystal clear skies, topped with a light breeze and enough warmth to warrant bare legs and luxuriously long lunch hours.
Which means tomorrow it will probably dip into the 40s and hail. So it was imperative that I stop all productive work and get outside to profitez.
I actually put on my running gear, thinking that a little fat lady jog would do me good. But a few trots into my run, le bébé let me know that running was not really in my repertoire anymore by fiercely kicking my bladder. It’s hard to argue with a kicking fetus, so I got lunch and power walked to the park instead.
And by “park” I mean the stunningly gorgeous, golden gated, formally planned garden space known as Parc Monceau. It is amazing. It puts U.S. parks to shame. And on the weekends it has pony rides. But on days like today, it’s full of Parisians lounging:
And sunning their bellies:
Ahhh, I can feel the vitamin D slowly returning to my system.