Hot paws.

 

It's going to be another Louisiana day.  Hot and humid. The village is settling into is high summer torpor. A farmer stops his little white Renault van for a quick chat. It seems the tikes parents are getting a divorce. The father has moved out and is living with his 'lady friend' in a rented flat above the butchers in the neighbouring village.

Dog and human head along the lane while the tarmac is still cool.  The roof of The Rickety Old Farmhouse is home to a large colony of bats. I pause and watch the last of them line up and dart under the gutters  into the shade. There must be a thousand of the things up there in the attic. We're happy to have these mosquito eating, and largely quiet, residents living above us.

After a couple of hundred yards we turn and head down through the path in the middle of the sunflower fields. Sophie skips on ahead in pursuit of things only she can see. Every so often she'll detour into the dark canyons between the thick sunflower stems and emerge, a few minutes later, looking triumphant.

After visiting the Holy Oak and drinking from the Holy Well we head back up the ox track to the village green. The wheat fields down there have just been harvested leaving a carpet of uncomfortable one inch long stalks. Sophie sensibly sticks to the soft grass path.

Then, having made sure the village is safe, the PONette is ready to head off for some curly croissant ends. By this time The Old Mayor is up and about. He's setting up tables and chairs on the village green in the shade of the lime tree. The special needs folks will be having a 'disco' lunch here later today. Sophie loves the boom box and the dancing. It's going to be a great day.

How many specialists work in this field ? : https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/spycatcher/202207/debunking-body-language-myths

2/3rds Chardonnay, 1/3 Ginger Beer. Would you drink it ? :https://twitter.com/ChardoMule_VDF/status/1536389936378695682