Massed ponies

Hot and humid this morning. A layer of cloud keeping yesterdays heat from escaping. As we head out the church and the lime tree on the village green are lit by the morning sun. This seems to be a cue for the bees to start humming. I note that the flags on the war memorial are still up despite it being more than a week since Bastille Day. The new mayor has a more 'relaxed' approach about putting them up and taking them down. Perhaps he tried to borrow our ladder but we were out ?

Sophie is of a mind to get as much mischief into her day as she can before it gets even hotter. High 30's forecast for this afternoon. This is not PON weather. She observes a C-A-T asleep under the lime tree. The bucolic peace of the village comes to an abrupt head back, tail waving end.

The horse lady is also up early.The ponies in the field at the crossroads are enjoying their breakfast and are much too busy to pay much attention to Sophie.

My companion picks up her pace and doesn't slow down until we've safely passed this intimidating group. Positioning herself carefully behind me she gives them a cursory glare then heads off to the safety of home. 

After that there's the consolation of some curly croissant ends. Well deserved rewards for outstanding bravery in the face of massed ponies.

In a French village everyone waves at their neighbours as they drive by. This can be a little confusing if you don't know what cars your fellow villagers drive.  We've taken to waving at every vehicle we see. This means we can never appear 'aloof ' or partisan ( important during the current court case ). Today , we greet three white farmers vans, the young Garagiste and the lady who helps out with cleaning the chateau in high season. We also wave at a man in a large white flatbed truck who may, or may not, be a villager. The Dutch vacationers , being non-residents, get a nod of the head and a smile.

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