Complete indifference.

Cold this morning. Sophie returns from her pre-breakfast constitutional. She's bearing unmistakable signs of enthusiastic mole hunting on her feet. Her muzzle isn't looking too pristine either.

When informed that '' mud on the paws cannot lie " she feigns innocence then indifference. 7:15 and the family diva has already made her mark on the new day. She does her best to avoid having her face washed.

The Old Farmer is waiting outside his front door, suitcase in hand, at 9:30. He'd asked to be picked up at 9:45 and, as is the way with old folk, was determined to be ready on time. I quickly throw on a jacket and take the car over to pick him up. En route to the hospital he comments on 1) the comfort of the seats ( although not as good as the ones in the venerable Mercedes ) 2) the variety of the seats power adjustments ( the venerable Mercedes is of an age where power seats were unheard of and 3) the GPS system. This he studies intently.

At the hospital he refuses my offer to carry his bag and ensure that registration runs smoothly. '' No thank you. I'll look after myself from here ". At the door he briefly tuns, smiles and gives me a curt wave. An old soldiers independence.

After lunch my mobile rings. It's The Old Farmer. He's been prepped and shaved in readiness for the operation only to be told at the last minute that the wrong sized replacement hip has been sent to the hospital. He's wheeled back from the theatre to the ward and then discharged. I find him waiting forlornly in the hospital reception area.

He's booked in again for April 5th. Thank heavens the surgeon checked the part before the anaesthetist got to work.

The French air traffic controllers are on strike. Weekend visitors from Paris have to cancel their trip.

This delay gives the ladies of the Women's Cooperative more time to finish their decorating. They are all here today including the three who think they're going down with a cold.  They are not exuding joy. Bob and Angus keep busy outside.