There's a strong mountain wind this morning. It whistles round The Rickety Old Farmhouse like a shutter rattling banshee. Sophie has got to that stage in life where a strong wind is a signal to remain curled up in the warmth just that little bit longer. I wander downstairs, turn on the lights and find the PONette dozing comfortably on the floor of the library. Her tail wags but I pretend not to have noticed.
After a few minutes Sophie saunters into the kitchen to let me know that she's ready to go out. There is an enthusiastic start of the day greeting, my yogurt pot is licked cleaner than any dishwasher ever could and then we head off down the ox track to the waterfall and the little stream. As we go we discuss the sad Alec Baldwin story. Today, the young cows in the field by the crossroads are given the ' If I don't look at you , you're not there ' cold shoulder treatment. As we pass them Sophie also picks up her pace, just in case. Angus is carefully herded into a position between the family diva and a particularly audacious cow that wanders over to greet her. A girl can never be too prudent when it comes to bovine matters.
The heating is now on and it's probable that some time in the next week we shall light our first autumn fire .
So starts a quiet Saturday morning in deepest, deepest France profonde. A trip to the bakers for some curly croissant ends now beckons.
18,000 people live in this one apartment complex. What must the wait for an elevator be like ? : https://www.reddit.com/r/UrbanHell/comments/pvhj9x/18000_people_in_a_single_building_saint/