The body says what words cannot.

The PON's are keen to get the day started. That canine ' what's taking you so long ? ' look. The first local cherries in the greengrocers. The shift from strawberries to cherries to melons to peaches part of the rhythm of life in south west France. Everything grown within a mile or two of home. Fruit that tastes of sun, honeybees and wild grasses. Little did we know when we came to live here that such simple routines would become so important.

While the angelic duo share their illicit half croissant, the beer and absinthe set start on their second Pelforth of the morning. The lady in the blue dressing gown and pom pom slippers is wearing her hair net this morning. Underneath it a forest of red curlers. In the car park a farmer has parked his venerable Daihatsu next to us. A welcoming committee watch Bob and Sophie return. Bob and Sophie are oblivious to their presence. Amazingly, the three watching sheepdogs are absolutely still ... and quiet. They're clearly not Polish Sheepdogs.

The roses are having a great year. Their boughs weighed down with buds. As an experiment we've planted standards roses in pots at the front door. The man at David Austin roses said it was difficult to grow them like this. '' You'll have to make sure they're well supported ". They've withstood the gales and a blanketing of wisteria leaves but haven't , yet, joined the others in full flower.

Bob's tail continues to wag all day. The body says what words cannot. He's the poster boy of happy dogs. Enthusiasm for everything. His sisters tail doesn't wag all day but her nose is very wet, and very cold, and gets everywhere.