It is not cheaper things we want to possess, but expensive things that cost a lot less.

 

Seven thirty five. Outside the cafe under the arcades a gentleman with a small yappy dog is having his first beer of the morning. The dog occupies itself by leaping from its chair onto the corner of the table and then back again. It does this constantly. The man calls the dog 'baby'. From time to time 'baby' licks a beer dipped finger.

On our way back to the car, after the illicit half croissant, Angus notices that the Christmas decorations are still in place above the cafes front door. This must be a French thing.

The street sweeper stops to talk to the PON's. He does this as if it's the most natural thing in the world to stoop down and chat away to two small furry creatures with enormous noses. Bob likes the street sweeper, Sophie is less sure.

Back at the Rickety Old Farmhouse the tree peonies have started to come into bloom. Two years ago their flowering was marked by the arrival of snow and arctic winds.

Bob and Sophie chase blackbirds, bark at tractors, savage each other and then fall asleep .No sign of the doe. A typical Friday morning in France profonde.