Sunday morning with two lively PONs. Sophie wants to get the day started. Bob is just happy.
After last weeks rain the morning is bright and sunny. The Old Farmer is up and about early. He's wearing his fur trappers hat and a thick red and black check fur jacket. Sophie sniffs his zimmer frame while Bob climbs the stairs up to his terrace in search of c-a-t-s. The intrepid duo find molehills on the old mans lawn. This is a cause for great excitement. The molehills are excavated amidst much high pitched whimpering and manic digging. The moles have long gone. The PONs don't know this.
Off into town to check on the time of today's rugby match. A step up in the excitement stakes from yesterdays game between two sets of local farmers. It starts off at a sedate pace and slows from there. In a pause in proceedings ( while everyone catches their breath ) the Sapeur Pompier and the young gendarme from St.Etienne have time to wander over and chat to us. ' Bonjour M'Ongoose. Bonjour Bhub '. Bob, who has been asleep on the bleachers, observes them with a mixture of interest and caution.
The cafe on the site of the old castle has put out a sign for todays petanque tournament. Angus makes a mental note to avoid the area this afternoon. PONs are keen participants in petanque games - an enthusiasm that petanque players tend not to reciprocate.
We check the Pilgrims Menu at the cafe on the High Street.
Finally, we make it to the cafe for a coffee and a bowl of water and croissant crumbs. There is much tail wagging.
Now you don't even need to go shopping :
And never let it be said that topical American humour is dead : https://twitter.com/BillyBuckRoscoe/status/910867507204038656