Day break, day glo militants.

The world intrudes on our little corner of paradise. A group of six tricycles pass the gate. Bob is out and on his stump seat as soon as he hears them. All the cyclists are in day glo yellow. Yellow helmets, yellow jackets and yellow shorts. A riot of colour. Each bike has a large French flag attached to its rear fender . We can only assume these are yellow jackets on their way to an anti-Macron demonstration in the local market town.  From their laughter it seems they're very happy protesters. Day break, day glo militants.

After the tricyclists have gone Bob dismounts from his stump seat and joins his sister in a careful nose down examination of the garden. This morning, thankfully, there is no sign of the eight kittens and their mother so no kerfuffle. No need for the neighbours to start sticking pins in their wax effigies of us.

Sophie is particularly dreamy on our cross country walk. What should take forty minutes takes an hour. Deer poo, badger poo, fox poo, desiccated vole. So many delicacies to divert a girls attention. 

By the time Sophie and Angus make it home Bob is already up in the back of the car waiting to head off to the bakers. Bob and Angus discuss the G7 meeting in Biarritz. The French radio thinks that President Macron scored a major coup by arranging an unscheduled bridge building welcome lunch with the US President. Angus is less sure that things will go swimmingly. Bob, sensibly, keeps his opinion on affairs of state to himself. He has croissants on his mind.