Tuesday, July 12, 2016
Sophie's putative beau , the sheepdog from the neighbouring farm, is waiting on the lane when we emerge from the gate. Sophie ignores him.
After breakfast we head off to the farm shop and buy the family princess a stuffed lamb. She has hidden Furry Fox somewhere in the garden and seems to have forgotten where exactly she buried him.
A thunderstorm last night. A little rain and a few half hearted rumbles. Both dogs and humans are unperturbed.
By mid-morning the ladies of the village have arrived to clear up after Sundays party. What should have been a happy occasion turned into a wake. With a dozen pairs of hands hard at work the village hall is soon looking spick and span.
The mayor is unhappy. It's the school holidays. One of the local boys, at that age where the sudden onset of hormones turns the merely savage into the outright bestial , has been doing wheelies on his motorbike. He's left tyre tracks cross the petanque court. He's also reversed into a plate glass window. The mayor remonstrates with him. The youth tells him where to go - but not exactly in those terms. The boys parents are adamant that none of this could be the work of their little Alfonse. ' He's an angel '.
Bob and Sophie are oblivious to the Peyton Place drama that surrounds them. A paddle in the stream, an hour chasing blackbirds, a nap and then roast chicken for dinner. It's turned out to be a barn stormer of a day. Particularly the roast chicken bit.