In which we picnic at Buttes Chaumont

About a week before we left for Southern France, one of the people who is in France working with Mic Detlefsen's group suggested that several of us get together for a picnic. One of the couples who was only here for a few months would be leaving before we returned from the South, and the weather was supposed to be relatively nice. Blaise suggested that we go to Parc Buttes Chaumont (click here for pictures--not mine), since it is supposed to be quite nice and he had never been there.

So, Friday afternoon Sapphire made oatmeal raisin date walnut cookies, and I made tomato and beet salad, and then we got on the train to head into Paris. Blaise was already in Paris with all the other philosophers, since they had agreed to meet and discuss someone's paper before dinner, so it was just the kids and I heading into Paris. We got off the train at the Buttes Chaumont metro stop, and I confidently headed for the stairs. Ten flights of steps later, I was wondering how I could possibly have forgotten how far underground that station was. After all, the last time I was there (in 2007), I was wearing Cherry and toting a huge bag of food up all of those steps.

We headed for the playground, which we had agreed would make a good meeting place, and the kids ran and played until we saw everyone else coming up the hill from the other direction. Then we found a patch of grass, partly in the sun and partly in the shade, and spread out our sheets and blankets, and ate dinner.

After dinner, Blaise (and a few other people) wanted to explore the park, and so we gathered our stuff, found a trash bag that actually had space for our garbage (did I mention that the weather was nice, and so we had a lot of company) and headed out. First we made for the temple on top of an island hill in the middle of the lake, then we headed across the "suicide bridge" to the other side of the park. By that time it was getting close to time for them to close the park, and so we headed out the nearest entrance and continued to talk. The wife of one of the philosophers is a linguist, and she and Sapphire were having a conversation about whether or not animals actually talk.