One minute of patience, ten years of peace.

The cafe's beer and absinthe crowd usually cluster together in the shade of the arcades .This morning they're sitting round a table on the pavement , sunbathing  and enjoying their second glass of pre-breakfast Pelforth . A cheerful '' Bonjour M'Ongoose ! ". The face of the little old lady in the blue dressing gown and pink pom-pom slippers has turned a ferocious lobster red. A moral lesson : Beer, absinthe chasers and direct sun a less than ideal mix . Today , thankfully , she has remembered to do up most of her dressing gown toggles.

On our way home we pass the last of the combines unloading its crop of wheat. The countryside dotted with bales of hay . From the top of the ridge the view of the Pyrenees obscured by a thick heat haze. France profonde slowing down for a long sun kissed  August. 

Home to find there's a cat in the garden . Bob and Sophie hurtle round, noses down, searching for the intruder. The cat, unconcernedly, ambles across the lawn before leaping onto the garden wall. By the time Bob and Sophie have given up their quest the cat is long gone. Bob has that look on his face that says '' Nothing  escapes my attention ". No point in disillusioning him.

It's Bob's turn for a walk round the village. Yesterday Sophie sat placidly for ten minutes watching the horses in the field by the village pond.  Bob takes a different tack. He wants to clamber over the ditch and join them .