Minus 15 in the Highlands of Scotland. Here it's bright and balmy. The garden a sea of mud. The PON's are in their element.
The warm weather brings out pilgrims. A group of forty or so singing and laughing as they go off to find the Holy Well. Bob eyes them up from his stump seat.
We've never had quiet PON's. In Scotland this didn't matter. Our nearest neighbours the sea and heather covered granite. Here, the angelic duo's boisterous frolics echo across the village. The matron at the Old Folks Home is on the night shift. What she thinks about us and the angelic duo as we head past her gate at 8.00 am doesn't bear thinking about. Sophie is telling the world how happy she is.
This morning two men in blue boiler suits are waiting outside the church. The electronic bell repair men from Seine et Marne have shown up to deal with the errant chimes. One introduces himself as Fabien. The other as Clovis. '' We'll sort it out " says Fabien. '' These old churches can be very damp. Interferes with the electrics " adds Clovis.