Blue skies and sunshine. Bob and Sophie sunbathe on a table in the garden. The rule about climbing on furniture conveniently forgotten.
The old school teacher arrives at the gate. Beret and blue, firmly buttoned up, house coat. A long retired representative of a different age. '' Bonjour M'Ongoose. I'm sorry to bother you" . He's written a pamphlet about a Polish author - a one time winner of the Nobel Prize for Literature - who's work is now deeply unfashionable. Would I be interested in buying one of the pamphlets ? ( He's had a thousand printed). '' I was just passing and I know ten euros is a lot of money and I know it's not a subject that would interest everyone but the language is so beautiful and I fear that his work will disappear and there again perhaps my French will be too complicated for a foreigner to understand ". I take three copies. Enough to show genuine interest without being effusive.
Sophie has two attitudes to visitors. The 'don't dare bother me now' attitude and the 'you can adore me' attitude. The latter is displayed. The old teacher looks at her and laughs. She's happy. He's delighted. He talks away to her as if they're life long friends.That ability the really old have to live in the joy of the moment and be quite unselfconscious. What memories has she awakened in him ?
The unexpected, smile inducing richness of village life in deepest, deepest France profonde.
Another hot day. Temperatures well into the nineties. Bob dozes in the courtyard while Sophie comes with me to look at the work on the German billionaires garage. Today the workmen are installing huge water pipes . They're bigger and sturdier than anything that grace The Rickety Old Farmhouse.
Late in the morning the white van belonging to the over enthusiastic power washer arrives. He and a colleague in a green corduroy cap get out. The two of them spend the rest of the day erecting some rather wobbly scaffolding around the half cleaned war memorial. On the stroke of four they leave. What , or who, induced them to return so quickly ? How will they repair the names that have been washed off ? French village life is a gift that keeps on giving.
Caroline, the new cleaner, arrives in the afternoon. Bob and Sophie try to terrorize her out of the kitchen but fail. They are sent packing into the garden. The little angels play tug of war until they fall asleep. Thus far we have managed to keep the diligent Caroline and the hyper-critical Madame Bay apart.
Life in the fast lane. Into our third week as a dog family. Training and socialization proceeding by leaps and bounds.
Bob and Sophie , in their own very different ways , proving to be delightful companions. Bob happy to start his day with a tickle under the chin, Sophie insistent on stretching out on her back for a full tummy rub. Lifes priorities . This morning when we set out there's a bee eater sitting on the courtyard gate. The first seen this year. Yellow, blue, red and russett. The bee eater chirrups with annoyance then flies off to the safety of a cherry tree.
To the lady with the polytunnels for our daily strawberries. We've decided to eat seasonally and locally as much a posible this year. It's healthier and we spend much less time in supermarket aisles . We get given an extra punnet of ' ugly ' strawberries for free. '' You can use them for a coulis " . Two teenage boys on unmuffled motorbikes rasp past at high speed . Bob moves to the safety of the back of the car only to find that Sophie is already there.
Home to flatten the flower beds and dig out some pots. Later this morning our first ' on lead ' visit to the inside of the cafe under the arcades.
