When Paris Stops to Smell the Roses

I looked out the window this morning, only to see this:

More snow!

Perfect excuse for a brunch and a day out in beautiful, snow-covered Paris n'est pas?

Coffees, fruit parfaits with fleur d'oranger and OJ

Scrambled eggs with ham, brie cheese and pain de campagne (country bread)...

Once our bellies were full, we were ready to brave the cold. But first I needed my hot chilly ski socks and super hip snow shoes (that I was SOOO thankful to have!)

Then we were off on a snowy Parisian adventure! Everyone joined us in the streets and parks, their cameras out, their eyes bright and joyful...

Cold cabbage at the Bastille marché

A jolly snowman with a carrot nose and jaunty hat at the park.

Too dangerous to Velib with cars sliding all  over the road...everyone was hoofin' it!

We saw an honest to goodness SKIER at the Tuileries, kids sledding down miniature hills, families having snowball fights, birds hanging out on the frozen fountains... Everyone seemed to be in awe of this winter wonderland of a weekend. Paris has gone ski resort!

I could only help but think that this woman was in serious need of a jacket.

After three hours of cold hands and red noses, we headed home for the tastiest of crêpes and cups of tea...

And here I am back on the taupe couch, bundled in a quilt my aunt made me, sipping my tea, looking forward to the soup I'll be making tonight. Why does it take a snow day to really stop and smell the roses?