Down to the valley for a pre-breakfast walk and a splosh in the stream. The few clouds around soon burn off. To the cafe for a coffee ( and illicit half croissant ) then onto the bakers. When we get home Sophie ( from the colour of her paws there's no doubting that Sophie is the guilty party ) digs up a rose bush. This is quickly replanted.
A poster outside the newsagent with pictures of the Spanish kings abdication. Looking at the poster you wonder if there is anyone else apart from Kings and Queens who still wear gloves to work.
On the ridge the donkeys have an addition to their family. A lively young foal. The jack wears a look; half pride, half joy, that says '' He's my bright hope for tomorrow ". I scratch the proud fathers head and congratulate him. Later today I'll walk back and take three carrots with me. New life in a French village. Another of those little things too unimportant for a diary but too important to go entirely unrecorded.