At peace with their lot.

The apple trees on the other side of the valley have been covered in netting to stop the birds from eating the fruit. The nets glint silver in the morning light. Sophie chases something small with a furry tail but soon gives up. I suggest that screaming with excitement may be a counterproductive hunting technique. She ignores me. Bob concentrates on the minnows in the stream. He tries the pouncing PON technique - heavy on action but light on results. We settle on the storm drain for our morning chat. Angus comments on the propensity of politicians to lie. Bob has difficulty in understanding what a lie is. We head home.

Sophie is full of life.

Bob is also full of life. Dogs like six year olds have that magical ability to never get tired. After a walk up the hill their owner is in need of a cup of coffee.

Chilled carrot is on offer in the kitchen. Bobs body is ( almost )  still but his tail waves backwards and forwards as if possessed of a life of its own.

The sun bakes down on The Rickety Old Farmhouse . At lunchtime its occupants are reunited with 'The Font'. Ten minutes of enthusiastic PON welcome follows. After lunch a deep silence, interrupted by the gentle sound of snoring, tells us the PONs are at peace with their lot. Outside on the village green the mayor and the villagers are busy 'sprucing up' ahead of the Fridays judging.

So passes a quiet day in deepest, deepest France profonde. Air France cabin crew have opted for a weeks strike, starting today. It is only the peak holiday season so who could possibly suffer ?