Cold outside but Sophie is cozy. She ignores me when I wander down and switch on the lights.
Bob, unhelpfully, gets under my feet as the process of slowly taking down the Christmas decorations continues. The tree can wait until tomorrow. It attracts too much canine attention.
Bob stands on his stump seat and watches. A reminder that a sheepdogs work is never done.
The Very Old Farmers van and tractor have somehow been moved into the middle of his vegetable patch and left. This is the vegetable patch that the village is thinking of buying as car park for the Salle des Fetes.
So passes another quiet day in deepest, deepest France profonde.
Here is an unusual way of singing a protest song : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ng2Ls4OA2k4