Monday, December 8, 2014
On our morning walk we see the Very Old Farmer standing at his kitchen window. He waves us over. Bob and Sophie wander into the kitchen and get stroked. Bob is told how handsome he is. Sophie, oblivious to compliments when there's food about, ferrets for something under a chair. The VOF chats away to them. The delight the old have in the company of dogs. '' Take a look at this M'Ongoose ". He rolls up his sleeves. A mass of needle marks. The district nurse comes at eight thirty every morning and again at four thirty in the afternoon to give him an injection. He's worried she'll run out places to put the needle. I tell him not to worry.
The cakes in the bakers have taken on a seasonal cheerfulness. The red, yellow and chocolate powdered ones are miniature Noel Logs. You can try them before ordering a larger version for Christmas lunch. How practical. The angelic duo ( or so they would appear when they venture into the bakers ) each get given a small piece of baguette.
A bright but wintry start to our Monday morning in deepest France profonde.