Bob is feeling inordinately proud of himself. Yesterday no less than eleven boy scouts wandered in a 2-2-4-3 formation down the lane and stopped to chat to him. He intimidated them in silence from his stump seat by the gate. He had Lamb on a Rope firmly clenched between his jaws. There is something residually innocent in a 1950ish way about eleven boy scouts stopping to talk to a wannabe ferocious dog with a soft toy in its mouth. Sophie , who has been with 'The Font' in the kitchen making scrambled eggs, emerges to find the small crowd and shrieks. This ends the boy scouts interaction with Bob.
This morning the man from the farm at the foot of the hill is taking the 'love of his life' out for a run. We stand well clear as he chugs by. The locals really do wear berets. He waves and beeps the asthmatic horn.
The Senegalese melon pickers busy at work. It's peak season. They work from six am until two without a break for lunch. The heavy rains have swept the soil down the hill and onto the road but have also arrived just in time to swell the melons. The Senegalese pickers get paid by the weight collected. It's an ill wind .....
We go to a different bakers this morning. Pretty standard fare. A millefeuille for me and a strawberry tart for 'The Font'. The PONs share my croissant which is flaky and light. Dogs and master both agree that it's excellent.
The morning ends with a trip to the charcuterie to buy a pork roast. Bob and Sophie each get given a tiny slice of blood sausage which , from their reaction , makes Monday July 23rd 2018 the best day ever - by far. The PONs are loathe to leave. As they go they cast " I really love you " glances back towards the butcher.
The graphics on this are cool. Germany's retreat down the list may speak volumes about current disagreements :