Paris for the weekend

Daniel was supposed to come home last weekend. Sunday was Mother's Day here in France. Plans changed and he tried to find a way for us to join him in Toulouse. No go. All flights booked (especially the return). We tried a few other options and then he decided to drive 5 hours up to Paris and we took the train over. It was a free Saturday from school.

The kids in the Floral Park in Vicennes.
On the "White Train"





A squirl we saw drinking;


Playing on some sculpture;





In front of the hotel;







I remembered last minute that my friend Laurel, whom I met on the Antarctica cruise, was going to be there that weekend. She didn't have time to come over and I didn't see how we could get over there... Luckily, I pulled up her old email and it said where she was staying. The reservation was in her name! Contact was made and we spent Sunday lunch together (after Friday and Saturday were spent with the uncle and Daniel's sister).





Upon our return, after the cab pulled up at almost 8pm, we found a dead baby bird on our driveway. I really didn't have time to deal with a dead baby bird but I certainly wasn't going to leave it. The kids were both mortified and facinated. I went and got an old washcloth and wrapped him up. I buried him in the garden, much to Davina's horror.

We had to have the Death Talk. We talked about how small and cute he was and how sad it was that he died. They wanted to know what happened to his feathers and I explained that he was so small that his feathers hadn't even grown in yet. They thought it was sad that this bird didn't grow feathers and learn to fly and do all the other bird things he was supposed to do. We put a brick over the spot where he's buried and Davina put a flower on it today.