Still no sign of winter. The weather bright and sunny and at times warm(ish). Bob and his master set out along the ridge for their morning walk. At the storm drain cover we stop and look out across the valley. Four deer unhurriedly munch their way across the field. No sign of the donkeys. They and the horses must still be in the barn. As they rush by the farmer in his Peugeot van and the young garagiste on his motorbike wave at this strange foreigner and his shaggy companion sitting at the side of the road.
Off to the supermarket. Time for a pre-Christmas 'bulk' shop. Angus is press ganged into carrying the bags. The good news is that the supermarket has those hand held scanners that enable you to 'zap' as you go and avoid the purgatory of waiting at the checkout. Angus considers the scanners to be great fun - a touch of mid-morning Star Wars .
On our way we stop off at the motorway service station for coffee. 'The romance of life in France ' says 'The Font'.
In the supermarket Angus notices :
1) A children's book with the title 'Max and Lily are afraid of violent images'.
2) A sugary snack sporting '' unctuous cream with biscuit bits '.
3) Further along the aisles a can of 8 dozen very large snails and ...
4) ... even more obdurately French a pack of 3 dozen (empty) snail shells.
Sophie is ready to take on the world. She goes for her leg X-ray on Tuesday. After three months of not being used the muscle on the most recently operated on leg is weak. The first one to be operated on is as good as new.
On Thursday we shall be heading off to Toulouse for a meeting with Bobs surgeon, oncologist and the senior hospital vet to agree on what should, and shouldn't, be done.
Life in deepest, deepest France profonde.
Here's a seasonal tale; New York style : http://www.vanityfair.com/news/2016/12/amid-global-chaos-real-suffering-comes-to-the-upper-east-side?mbid=social_twitter