Sophie's life continues to be an amalgam of routine and excitement.
The routine of a drink from the water hole by the horse field.
The excitement of the two horses wandering over to say 'Bonjour'
The horses get given a carrot which the PONette finds I-N-F-U-R-I-A-T-I-N-G ! The horses are very large and are standing very close so she keeps her irritation to herself. Sophie carefully repositions herself behind me. You never know with horses.
We sit on the storm drain . Angus talks on his mobile, briefly, to a Manhattanite. Brexit, Ossoff, Warnock and government shutdown intersperse this mornings seasonal cheer. My fluffy companion is quasi patient and gets an ear chook.
Back at The Rickety Old Farmhouse Sophie heads upstairs to the dining room. There was turkey there last night . Why isn't it there this morning ? She has whole heartedly entered into the spirit of Christmas.
When faced with disappointment the only sensible thing for a girl to do is repair to the half landing for a restorative nap and hope that gravy covered roast potatoes will magically appear.
In the PON breast hope springs eternal .
Whoever knew you could have mass xylophones ? Or are they Glockenspiels ? I count fifteen of them which must be some sort of record in the Xylophonic world
And some music from one of the West Coasts least known architectural gems :
The local restaurant experimented with take out orders. For one night, and one night only, it offered duck casserole at 36 euros a portion. Since then it has remained resolutely shut. By contrast New York has got adventurous take out cuisine right : https://www.martamanhattan.com/store/catering/