A noisy behemoth.

An Airbus A-350 test aircraft flies over us as we're getting harnessed up for the morning walk. I know it's an A-350 because it says so in large maroon letters on the underneath of the fuselage.  It's doing low level stall tests - flaps and landing gear down, engines throttled up. Presumably it's chosen to fly over this remote spot so that if anything untoward happens the ground fatalities are likely to be few and far between.

Both PONs briefly pause from their pre-walk antics and watch this noisy behemoth lumber over us. Somewhere over the next village it turns and then heads slowly towards Toulouse and presumably breakfast for the crew.

After the excitement Bob and Sophie run to the gate. We've been doing morning walks together for more than five years and their enthusiasm far from dimming seems to grow with each passing day.

Too hot for workmen to do anything. The petanque court remains unrepaired after the heavy rains which gouged out channels in the newly compacted gravel. The swaying Jesus still hasn't been attended to, although the new sewage tank for the town hall loo has been installed. An unsightly trench runs across the village green marking the path of the new pipe. Our builder shows up to clear the gutters. Two lads clamber up ladders and throw leaves down onto the ground. They display a cavalier disregard for safety. While the lads clear the gutters he fills me in with the latest gossip. There is a woman at the chateau who has been sunbathing naked. ''She was here last year too ". He knowingly taps the side of his nose with the index finger of his right hand. The builder promises to come and replace the roof tiles that were dislodged in the gale as soon as he can. '' My usual suppliers closed for the holidays but I know someone who can get me replacements " he says with studied imprecision.

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