Sunday morning in deepest France profonde. A time for the villagers to sleep in. Sophie doesn't recognize the term 'sleeping in' so we have the village, the lane and the ox track to ourselves. On the news this morning a story that France and Britain are proposing a safe zone in Kabul for those Afghans who worked for them over the last twenty years but couldn't get out. This could be an improvement over the 'We can't evacuate you but we'll put your name on a list' strategy that's been in place until now.
Goats, donkeys, geese all greeted. A charge through the rapidly wilting sunflowers and then it's off to the bakers patio for a coffee and a croissant. Sophie waits with some semblance of patience while I order. While waiting for the waitress Sophie whiles away the time by emitting a variety of back of the throat yodeling noises. Thankfully, there is only one other customer and she seems oblivious to the sounds emanating from my shaggy companion.