The brain is a wonderful organ. It starts the moment you get up and does not stop until you get into the office.

It pours with rain. The little angels are kept indoors. 'The font' knots an old pillow case and gives it to them to play tug-of-war with. Sophie hasn't quite got the hang of tug-of-war. She grabs the pillow case and disappears with it . Bob accepts this antisocial behaviour in stoical silence. However, when Bob gets the pillow case Sophie goes into her crazed diva routine. '' My life is ruined. Do something about it !!! ". We end up rug surfing in the long corridor upstairs.

Bob and Sophie have a long walk along the valley by the river. There are lots of badgers and their cubs about so the PON posse are kept on their leads.  The plumber arrives at eight. He abseils down the well. Bob and Sophie are keen to become actively involved in the replacement of the water pipes. Their enthusiasm is not welcomed. They get banished indoors. The morose lads pick cherries in the orchard.

The European parliamentary elections on Sunday. The first poster appears on the notice board outside the town hall. A rather stern looking man glares out over an untranslatable slogan that says 'liste antiremplaciste'. Closer scrutiny seems to suggest that the stern man is against everything. His website is succinctly captioned '' le-non.fr ". No. Short, sweet and nihilist.

Enjoy present pleasures in such a way as not to injure future ones.

Gales overnight. A months worth of rain in an hour. This morning the cafe closed and shuttered. The PON duo try the front door but return to the car - crestfallen. Sophie lets it be known that all is not well with the world.

Home to find the plumber examining the cracked water pipe. ( Pleading does work ). Three shaven headed 'lads' are standing looking bored in the flower beds, smoking. Bob and Sophie keep a watchful eye on the morose trio. The plumber says he'll be back tomorrow to repair the pipe. '' I'll put on a harness and clamber down the well. It's only twenty or so metres ". This said with uncharacteristic ( and presumably expensive ) enthusiasm. Angus phones the insurance company to see if the household policy covers workmen drowning in the well. It does.

And here is a little 'Scotch' number to start your day. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gDasAr0cayA

The thermonuclear device and the banshee scream.

A strong Saharan wind blows all day.100 km/h gusts. The soil turned to clay, the standard roses bent at alarming angles. Time to switch on the irrigation system. I push the switch. The blue contraption in the basement, which looks like a thermonuclear device but is in fact a water pump, emits a banshee scream. Seconds later the cast iron pipe that draws the water up from the well cracks. The sudden surge of pressure sending a jet of water ten metres into the air. Quite spectacular in the way that only expensive household disasters can be.  Bob and Sophie certainly think so. They rush in and out of the plume of water like toddlers at a funfair. That irrepressible ' isn't this fun ? ' sense of adventure. Toweled dry they both sleep for an hour. 

The plumber says he'll be along in the next week or so. '' Can you give me a rough indication of when that might be ? " I ask.  ' Non ' comes the reply.

Here's an interesting dog article from yesterdays WP.

http://www.washingtonpost.com/national/health-science/in-dogs-play-researchers-see-honesty-and-deceit-perhaps-something-like-morality/2014/05/19/d8367214-ccb3-11e3-95f7-7ecdde72d2ea_story.html?wpisrc=nl_hdln

He that can have patience can have what he will.

Free advice for French bank managers. When asked why the bank is sponsoring a hunting association that allows dog beating - use your Public Relations training. Pretend to be interested and say : 'I'm horrified. I shall look into it straight away and come back to you ". The foreign mad person across the desk will then be satisfied that something is being done and go. Job finished. 

However, do not under any circumstances use the following responses :

• "No one else seems to have noticed"
• "These photographs could be of anything. You're not a very good photographer"
• "It's really not something that's important enough  to spend more time on"
• "Write to whoever you want. It'll make no difference. It's my decision and it's final ".
• "If you don't like our ( the French ) way of doing things perhaps you should move".

These are the equivalent of pouring benzine on a smouldering fire. Not a good idea.

This morning 'the font' is buying ten shares in a French bank. This is enough to ask questions at the next annual general meeting. A hand written letter is being sent to the Chairman. 'The font' thinks that no one ever writes by hand these days so it may, just, get onto his desk. Getting head office involved may not stop the dog beaters but they might think twice, or at least look over their shoulders, before doing it again.

Bob and Sophie spend a pleasant day noisily savaging one another. Sophie discovers the windfall cherries. 

Time cools, time clarifies, no mood can be maintained through the course of hours.

By the cafe under the arcades a man grooming a horse. The horse munches happily away from a pile of straw on the pavement. The beer and absinthe crowd are too engrossed in their pre-breakfast libations to notice. The horse is still there when we head home after the PON's illicit half croissant. Bob and Sophie watch in silent awe. Bob is wearing that " Blimey ! It's enormous. Wouldn't want to argue with that " look.

Two car wrecks on the road outside the little market town. Heartbreaking. The ritual Saturday evening culling of teenage French boys. 1990's era fast cars, binge drinking and testosterone a recipe for trouble. There was a time when they drank wine, now its spirits. Saturday night the time for 'partying'.

'The fonts' hotel in London staffed entirely by Spanish. There used to be enthusiastic Polish youngsters behind the desk and in the restaurant  but with youth unemployment in Spain touching 54% the Poles have been replaced by eager Madrilenos. All are charming and speak perfect English. 

Bob and Sophie have a good day racing round the garden ensuring that the field boundaries are where they were yesterday. Happy days.

An unhurried sense of time is in itself a form of wealth.

The PON duo approach the new day with their customary enthusiasm. The croissant bearing waitress at the cafe under the arcades receives a lick of delight from Bob. Sophie is more sparing with her affections.

The cheerful man at the wine shop has a strong stutter. When he speaks to Angus this disappears entirely and he becomes lucidity personified. This may say something about the way Angus speaks French. Today the wine man has received a shipment of Spanish rose . '' It's not a serious wine but worth trying. Once ". He repeats the ' once '. I ask if he has any New Zealand or American wine. He looks back at me in the way the French do when they run into someone completely mad. My question doesn't warrant an answer. 

'The font' arrives back near midnight . Bob and Sophie wake when they hear the car come round the bend at the foot of the hill. Sophie overcomes her reticence and turns into a squealing '' Thank God you're home " bundle of joy. Flock reunited, normal service resumed, PON heaven.

When you go to buy, use your eyes not your ears.

Some men arrive to check the street lights. One man drives the truck, a second operates the hydraulic lift, a third stands in the lift and does the work. A fourth man follows along behind in a white safety car. The man in the lift replaces each bulb and then washes the lamp cover. Bob and Sophie are so spell bound by this exciting street theatre they don't even bark. 

'The font' is spending an extra night in London. New tenants arrive next week. A mad dash to buy sheets, get the devout Polish cleaning ladies to spring clean and have the plumber mend a dripping tap. For good measure a bedroom carpet is replaced. Here in deepest France profonde, Bob and Sophie enthusiastically share a lunchtime bacon sandwich. 

This hotel is in Cottonwood , Idaho. You'll need to scroll through the pictures until you get to the one of 'the worlds biggest beagle'. 

http://dogbarkparkinn.com/

A house that does not have one worn, comfy chair in it is soulless.

The font leaves at the crack of dawn to get the first flight to London. The Idahoan couple are returning to Boise and it's time for them to check out of the flat. They came for a year and stayed two. Their grocery shopping done in Fortnum and Masons despite the presence of a Tesco Metro ( at a quarter of the cost ) 100 yards down the road. Mr. Idahoans philosophy of life : '' If we could sell potatoes at this price we'd be rich ".

There is of course a strike in France. This time it's not just the air traffic controllers but everyone at the airport. The first flight goes four hours late. It's hot and the handlers refuse to connect the ground power unit for the air conditioning. After three hours the airline offers the passengers a tumbler of tepid water. The joy of travel.

Bob and Sophie spend their day looking quizzical. This look can roughly be translated as '' What are we going to do now ? ". We opt for a long walk to the end of the ridge.There the duo run down across the fields to the stream. Bob tries his hand at fishing, Sophie pounces on things in the long grass. A combination of the early start and the exuberance of the PON duo causes their owner to nod off briefly after lunch. Briefly in this case means an hour.

Human ingenuity at its finest. Who would have thought of clothing like this. The lady version of wearable luggage. Wouldn't it be easier to check a bag ?

http://www.jaktogo.com/Products/view/id/Dresstogo

Spanish week.

Spanish week in the supermarket. A life sized toreador has appeared between the fresh fruit counter and the frozen chickens. There is something ever so slightly unsettling about the toreador. He looks as though he may walk the aisles at night .

Bob spends his afternoon chasing blackbirds. You'd think that he might have worked out by now that they take flight thirty seconds before he arrives on the scene. He's developed a new trait. When he's in a deep sleep he shows his overbite and a tooth. His sister would never do anything so ungainly. 

Short is the joy that guilty pleasure brings.

By the village pond hundreds of carefree frogs basking in the early morning sun. I keep Bob firmly on his lead. He seems to think that he can walk on the water lilies. 

Overnight the cows from the barn have managed to push down the fence and get into the garden. The lavender looking rather the worse for wear. There's still half a dozen heifers in the freshly ploughed field by the war memorial. They're contentedly grazing on the trees along the edge of the ridge. Bob thinks of wandering over to them but decides against it. He's finally learnt that what's small at a distance can be disconcertingly large close up.

'' I'm sure my dear you're exaggerating ". It can safely be said that the meeting with the mayor in the 'dog show' village did not go well. The mayor seems to think his dissimulating charm has soothed troubled waters. The man has much to learn. ' The font ' did, however, discover that the local bank has given the hunting association a gift of €1500 for their 'maintenance of rural tradition'. Angus is willing to bet that a meeting with the bank manager is on the horizon.

All I can say about life is, Oh God, enjoy it !

This morning the lady at the market gives the PON duo the tiniest piece of goat's cheese with ... a dab of fig compote. 

Can there be any better way of starting a day ?

Bob lies in the kitchen dreaming of chevres and compote and cuisse de canard confite. His tail wags while he's asleep. How happy is that ?

Lutheran determination.

A dog show in a local village. Not many dogs but a large table covered in wine bottles. An appreciative, if slightly inebriated, crowd. While Angus heads off to look for a parking spot, 'the font' heads off to see the hunting dogs. 

We'd always agreed that the sensible thing to do when living abroad is ignore the non-Anglo-Saxon attitude to animals. France is better than Italy in this respect. Most of the hunting dogs are well cared for. But not all. Two of the dogs are squabbling. A man in a mock hunting costume 'loses it' and starts beating the dogs with a whip. He then picks the dogs up by the back of their necks and throws them across their cage. One dog is left badly bleeding. 'The font' forgets the prudent vow of silence. France and Sweden come into conflict. The Frenchman doesn't like being told to stop. The Swede doesn't like his rejoinder. The conversation develops. The men ( he's been joined by others ) finally ( and heatedly ) storm off. 

Angus and the PON's, having finally found a parking spot, are oblivious to all this. When reunited we do however recognize the symptoms of Lutheran determination. The hunting dog saga, as far as 'the font' is concerned, is not yet settled. The mayor of the dog show village is about to get a visit.

France gets 2 votes in the Eurovision song contest.

France came last in last nights Eurovision song contest. We didn't watch it but there's outrage in today's local newspaper. Here is an interview with the performers. 

It has been said some countries choose particularly bad songs to make sure they don't win. The winning country has the cost of hosting the following years contest. Who could be so cynical ? 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=_dVBbC62uWY