The 4x4 is showing its age. Nothing wrong mechanically but seven years of accumulated PON hair give it a certain 'lived in' feel - that black carpet and white fur look. 'The Font' thinks a Swedish car might make a good replacement. Something substantial with lots of air bags as an antidote to French driving habits. We go to the Volvo garage. A very attractive young sales lady (wearing a skirt memorable for its brevity ) looks for the keys for the demonstrator but can't find them. She suggests I 'return tomorrow or the day after'.
There are a set of 'solar system' fridge magnets on the door of the downstairs dishwasher. Where we got them or why they're there a mystery. Every morning after breakfast Bob rearranges them with his nose. This morning Saturn receives a particularly enthusiastic shove. Sophie ignores the fridge magnets. They're not edible .
One of those little routines with dogs - too unimportant for a diary but recorded here because it makes me laugh.