Another sign Christmas is coming. The supermarket puts up its display of local wildlife devouring other local wildlife. A triumph of the taxidermists art.
Can a solitary tree be beautiful ? Or, does it have to have the right spot in the landscape ? We pass this old mistletoe covered oak every day as we head down the hill to the roman road. Some days Bob christens it. Some days he doesn't. Today he doesn't, he's on the track of some late to bed deer.
A group of forty motor bikes pass through the village. A third of the bikers are wearing Santa hats over their helmets. Bizarre things happen in deepest France profonde. Bob watches them from his stump seat.
The Christmas tree is up. Carrefour and Casino only had tiny ones left. More table decorations that trees. Intermarche had a selection of larger ones. We buy the biggest - getting on for seven feet. When unwrapped it proves to be all left side and no right side. 'The Font', determined to be positive. says '' It's got character ". The tree is supposed to be one of those that doesn't shed it's needles. Presumably it was mislabeled. The inside of the car now covered in them. They go with the dog hairs and dried drool.
As I go to bed and turn out the lights Bob can be found sound asleep on a rug in the upstairs hallway. He's chosen the rug with the thickest pile.