A morning sitting in the sunshine reading a book on Belgian foreign policy. One of those I've started it so I'm going to finish it type books. Ever serious Bob guards the front door. Sophie snores under my chair.
Day 3 of the cat saga. Cat now recognizes me and wraps itself round my ankles. We're down to one tin of cat food and one bottle of UHT milk. Let's hope The Old Farmer returns from his court case in Strasbourg tomorrow.
It clouds over. The first of the cold weather said to be on its way. I bring up some logs in case they're needed for a fire. A group of bereted pilgrims wander through the village in the late afternoon. The PONs bark. Bob seems satisfied that he's terrorised them. I don't like to dishearten him.
The PONs also bark when a tractor goes over the speed bump outside the front gate.
Is there anywhere as quiet as a French village in late autumn ?