This morning Sophie finds some over ripe windfall quinces in the bottom of a drainage ditch. These are tasted but fail to generate the same degree of enthusiasm she's shown for over ripe windfall pears.
Bob sits by me on the storm drain. We talk about the British Prime Ministers coughing fit. Angus feels sorry for the poor woman. Bob leans into me as we discuss why some people are angry that the Spanish King didn't say a few words of Catalan in his speech to the nation. 'El Sueno de la razon produce monstruos' says Angus using a line made famous by Goya. Bob wanders off to see what his sister is doing. Bob, it seems, is not keen on quinces.
A group of thirty or so pilgrims wander down the ox track at the side of The Rickety Old Farmhouse. They sing as they go. The singing elicits a response from the PONs. The pilgrims sing more loudly. The PONs up their game.
The ladies from the Women's Cooperative work away. The sound of Aude, the bi-polar decaratrice, chatting away happily to herself drifts onto the lane through two open windows. Why the other windows in the drawing room aren't opened is presumably something to do with the light. Progress remains steady but glacial. There is another late morning break for chanting.
Singing pilgrims and chanting painters. No wonder the PONs think it's been the best day ever.
The perils of free samples : https://www.standard.co.uk/news/uk/dogs-poisoned-by-sainsbury-s-promotional-chocolate-samples-a3645806.html