Lunch in la Tour Eiffel

We finally got some rain across Paris which pleased the ducks and the gardens no end, as well as my husband who’s sick of wiping down dusty shoes. A few blustery days saw people losing hats and scarves all over the place while awnings rattled and chimneys whistled and my son’s drawing blew away on the walk home from school, which needed a delicate three-team rescue operation including a passing cyclist, a sweet grandma and me to effect a safe recovery. It’s now securely taped to the kitchen wall, a testament to the fortitude of the French in the face of difficulty.