Silence.

One of those days where the PONs are attached to my ankles.

They follow me through the house as I open up the shutters. They watch with silent intensity. Figure that out. The PONs never do anything silently. Angus talks to them about Tulsi Gabbard. As political commentators they seem completely unmoved.

Shutters open we head off for the morning croissant. Loic the heavily bifocaled gardener arrives as Bob and Sophie are getting in the back of the car. They get out and welcome Loic - noisily. They then get back in. Our departure is delayed while Sophie informs Bob that he's taking up too much space. Today's croissant warrants a 9.8/10. Warm from the oven. 

The PONs also get some Galette de Rois slivers from the baker. This clearly makes it not just any day but the best day ever.

What fun. They played this on Radio France this morning : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CAOFXTbECn0


Congo has had a chaotic and disputed election. Who knew this about Kinshasa ? :
https://rachelstrohm.com/2019/01/05/visualizing-kinshasas-population/

6.

Best day ever. Bob and Sophie's 6th birthday. They celebrate by excavating mole hills.

We first decided on PONs as family dogs more than thirty years ago. A steamed up Polski Fiat 125 taxi was taking us to Warsaw's Okencie airport to catch the once a day British European Airways flight to London. The roads carpeted with thick snow. A time when the Berlin Wall was still in place and trilby wearing SB men in little blue cars would 'monitor' foreigners.  By the Soviet War Memorial, where Ryczinka Street broadens out, the cab stops at a red light. 'The Font' winds down the window to let some air in and the drivers cigarette smoke out. On the other side of the road a man in a fur hat walking his shaggy dog. They pause for the lights to change. Just then the snow slides silently off an adjacent roof. The avalanche misses the man but completely covers the dog. After ten seconds there is a stirring in the pile of snow and out pops the comical mutts head. Unperturbed and happy. It looks at its master adoringly. They bustle across the road - the dog shaking snow off its fur as it goes. We ask the cab driver what sort of dog that was. And so the decision to search for Polish Lowland Sheepdogs was made.

Wilful, stubborn, generators of mischief, lovers of mayhem, loathers of silence, devotees of mud, abhorrers of order. Our canine companions also happen to have been unfailingly enthusiastic, tireless with children, fearless as guardians, attentive as companions and determined that each and every day be more joyous than the last. Our experience has been that life with PONs is a life filled with constant laughter. Natures antidote to men in dark suits.Can there be any better 6th birthday greeting ?


This is also joyous : https://twitter.com/MeredithFrost/status/1083365592294412288

Abyss.

Cold, wet weather does nothing for a girls hair. Sophie has a ' I can't do a thing with it ' day.

Bob stands on his stump seat and watches a band of pilgrims . He has picked up a rubber ball and is squeezing it firmly between his jaws as they saunter by.  This gives him an unintentional Hannibal Lecter air.

Back in Scotland 'The Font' notices an unusually dour Presbyterian epitaph on a tombstone in the Cathedral.

And a 'Benjamin Franklin was here' plaque . How he managed to jet around in an age before jets is remarkable.

And some Thursday morning Mahler - which is very lyrical :  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dk6wdGBFYFk

Lilac metallic cheeriness.

Cold and drizzly and grey. It's also windy.

What the Scots would call a 'dreech' morning.

The PONs think the weather is wonderful. In fact they think everything about today is wonderful.

We take 'The Font' to the airport. On the way back Angus pops into the supermarket near the terminal. They have four bottles of a hard to find Pomerol on the shelves. These seem to have been mispriced - to the buyers advantage. I ask a stern looking lady with an i-Pad ( a sure sign of a senior position in retail management ) if the price is right. '' Of course it is " she says before adding an unnecessary '' We know what we're doing ". Difficult to say whether she says this to everyone who talks to her or whether it's first day back at work grumpiness.

The supermarket is full of remaindered chocolate at 50% off. The French must have shunned chocolate in a big way over Christmas. Angus wonders what happens to unsold chocolate bears. Do they get melted down and recycled ?

'The Fonts' flight from Frankfurt to Edinburgh has to battle strong headwinds sweeping down from Norway. The fasten seat belt signs are on for the duration. Then an hours drive up the motorway in what passes for bright sunshine in Scotland. The sun low in the sky this far North. The rental car company has provided a Mokka X in lilac metallic. '' You'll love it ! It's so cheery ! " trills the young lady at the desk. 'The Font' has no difficulty in finding it in the car park. In St.Andrews the Wee House has developed a lived in look but the heating works, the sofas have survived and the curtains are still in place. All the furniture has moved and has to be rearranged by two handymen. Today, 'The Font' will supervise the cleaning team and then head back south to the airport. An invite by a friendly neighbour to a lecture on volcanic and magmatic studies may or may not be accepted.

Not many voices can fill Notre Dame on their own. Not many voices can deal with Gounod. France meets America :
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YYmaznpLMz8

How scary is that ?

Sophie wanders into the newly ploughed field to search for an early morning pre-breakfast snack. Despite her best efforts there are no decapitated voles or badger poo to be found today.

Back at home big brother is up and in the back of the car as soon as he's finished his kibbles. It goes without saying that Sophie objects to the fact that Bob is already in the car and in her spot. She howls.  Anyone might think that Bob does this to annoy her. This noisy interaction has now become part of our daily routine. Bob looks rather pleased with himself.

Madame Bay and the ladies of the Beautiful Bye Ways Committee are at the church early. Every year they set up the Christmas Crib in front of the altar on (or around) December 20th. They then lock up the church and only return when the festive season is over. In the meantime the Crib and its lights shine away in an empty and bolted church. How scary is that ? This has been a village tradition ever since the last curate left in 1957. Madame Bay says it '' makes the church feel loved ".

Audacity

It seems c-a-t-s have started to sleep on the garden benches by the wall at the back of the house. A comfortable spot that is sheltered from the winds that blow down from the mountains. We think that two, possibly three, have started to spend their nights there. Sometimes , in the small hours, they become noisily amorous. For the PONs the presence of c-a-t-s is an affront to all that is sacred. They hurtle out of the front door to check out the taunting feline sounds. It goes without saying that the c-a-t-s are up and safely away at the sound of the first  excited bark .

A most unappetising display at the bakers. Kiwi, tinned mandarin and grape tart something that we can easily resist.

And here's something that's both French and Spanish : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6THHrPyZQuQ



Well done Whirlpool : https://www.citylab.com/solutions/2016/08/school-attendance-washing-machines/496649/?utm_source=facebook&utm_medium=social&utm_campaign=citylab&utm_content=edit-promo&utm_term=2019-01-02T16%3A12%3A20&fbclid=IwAR3GkWJmvjscvu-49ex6x-tu8VARnzTYXS7OQd3OgM-naXijWLzjJMOpa_c?utm_source=twb

Epiphany traditions.

We have no idea whether the gilet jaune protesters will be blocking the roads today. Just in case we're out early. It's cold but without the heavy frost that's been coating the grass for the last few mornings. Loic has been coming twice a week to collect up the leaves but the trees are now completely bare. He'll go back to coming once a week .

Sophie strides ahead. Usually she trails behind her brother but these brisk mornings stir something in her DNA and she races along. Alternatively it could simply be that she walks quickly to compensate for the cold ground under her paws. The sides of the little lane are carpeted in pollen from the plane trees. This quickly covers the PONs legs.

There is a moment of chaos as we head off to the bakers. Bob has decided to make himself comfortable in the back of the car. His front paws are in 'her' spot. Sophie makes her displeasure plain by throwing her head back and howling. People who think dogs only 'bark' fail to comprehend the richness of canine language. The PON dialect is particularly rich in nuance. Sophie's communication skills are in a league of their own.

The pretty girl who serves behind the counter at the bakers brings us not one but two croissants. Double helpings of the curly ends make this a great day for Bob and Sophie. Todays croissants are as near perfect as one could find this side of Paris  - light, fluffy and with that hint of sweetness to the dough.

The last of the Christmas rituals. Gallettes de Rois for sale. A commemoration of the three wise men that survives amid 21st century bustle. Madame Bay will eat her Gallette with champagne. The Old Farmer and the Belgian Lady will wash theirs down with cider. The person lucky enough to find the 'feve' in their piece of cake will wear the crown.  

Seems the TSA will be hiring more floppy eared dogs :
https://thepointsguy.com/news/tsa-hiring-floppy-ear-dogs/

Exotic scents.

Sophie slips out of the front door and disappears into the orchard. She returns twenty minutes later. The paws and the muzzle hint at mole hill excavating.

Big brother looks at her wearing his ' what did I do to deserve this ? ' face.

We stop at the storm drain. Sophie goes in search of badger poo. Bob has his ears tickled and the mechanics of 'shutdowns' explained to him. The shortage of TSA staff at JFK already causing long ( or longer than usual ) lines. Bob closes his eyes in a good imitation of sleep .

At the entrance to the motorway the gilet jaune protesters have been busy. The automatic pay booth has been petrol bombed. So has a speed camera on the motorway. Thankfully, there are no protesters to impede our morning croissant run.

Some added excitement today. We go to the motorway service station to fill up with petrol. Angus gets a coffee. The PONs get a walk around the car park. Tyres with scents of exotic places are carefully sniffed. Bob de-threats the rear tyres of a large Mercedes and a white butchers van. The thimbles and plastic Eiffel Towers at the pay desk don't seem to be selling. A Notre Dame snow globe is a new, and comparatively tasteful, addition to the the display.

The first time either of us had heard this piece was at a concert last night : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O-CC8JyjktE



Brilliant. This is  clever composite photo of every plane taking off from Hong Kong in daylight on January 18th last year.

20+ rolls in the grass.

Everything is back to normal at The Rickety Old Farmhouse. Everyone goes to bed at a sensible hour, meals are quiet affairs, there is no one watching '' Seattle Snowmageddon " on the Horror Channel and the PONs get their regular walks at the appointed time.

Blue skies bring with them a heavy frost. Sophie trots along the lane on the look out for decapitated shrews that the owls might have discarded. Her brother lags behind. He loves to roll on his back on the icy grass. I finally give up trying to hurry him along. This morning is a 20+ rolls in the grass morning.

The village quiet as only a French village can be. Woodpeckers hard at work on the trees behind the village hall, arguing Goldfinches in the hawthorn thicket and pigeons cooing contentedly on the roof of the church. A cat is sunbathing on the still warm bonnet of an old Ford Fiesta van at the horse farm. It looks disinterestedly at the PONs who fail to notice it.

We receive a dinner invitation from a Palo Alto couple in London. It is a bizarre ( could only be Palo Alto ) thing and concludes with the lines :

Please note that anyone wishing to stay and watch the Super Bowl will be more than welcome, even Patriots fans. And yes, we will be watching the American transmission, including the commercials. There will be ten guests for dinner. Vegetarian, vegan, gluten free and dairy free options available on request.

The '' There will be ten guests for dinner " line leaves us bamboozled. Have they opened a restaurant ? Is this a way of signalling that there will be other people there ? What happens if you don't want to watch the Super Bowl ?  Should we start to offer vegan, gluten free or dairy free options to dinner guests ?  '' How extraordinary " says 'The Font' in that tone of voice that lies somewhere between '' What is the world coming to ? " and ' What a peculiar invitation '. 

Sophie segues back into her routine by digging for moles. 

Abundantly clear.

Everyone is up at 5:00 am to head off to the airport .

This means Sophie's beauty sleep is interrupted. 

Her views on this change to the daily schedule are made abundantly clear.

Music for an early morning start :
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nsg-LI0mWSw&list=PL36617383B6BA9A1A&index=126


A 24 hour buffet-of-buffets pass. Presumably there is a market for this in Las Vegas . 'The Font' wonders how French the Le Village Buffet can be : 'You may not consider a buffet to be romantic, but Le Village Buffet might change your mind. From its French village setting to Paris-inspired dishes, you’ll be saying oui, oui to a buffet date in no time'
 :   https://www.caesars.com/las-vegas/restaurants/buffet/buffet-of-buffets

Rather sophisticated.

The Turbot recipe was easy. Finding Salmon eggs on a New Years Eve in deepest, deepest France profonde - decidedly  less so.

Up early and into the little market town. It is completely  deserted. More and more stores giving up the fight against the out of town shopping centre and closing. We wander into the Abbey to look at the crib. It is a horrid, garish affair.

Much more interesting is the fifteenth century carving of The Flight into Egypt. It's brightly lit and casts shadows which make the six hundred year old wooden figures look as though they're alive and just trotting along in the sunshine.

On our way back to The Rickety Old Farmhouse a search for a bakers that's open. All our usual haunts closed for the New Year holiday. We finally find one that's open and which has a sophisticated dark chocolate and raspberry tart on display.

On the other side of the road a rather sad looking Japanese restaurant. It's hard to believe that the conservative inhabitants of the little market town have a love for Japanese food. 

Bob is doing his best to cope with all the household activity.

Thought I'd heard every version of this song  : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VhOJZ_ZrYQ8&list=PL36617383B6BA9A1A&index=139


This is rather touching. To boldly go ...
https://twitter.com/coreyspowell/status/1079939010016018434

A job well done.

Bob maintains a watchful eye on Hogmanay proceedings. Only after everyone has been escorted to bed does the family fellow finally settle down. He is soon snoring. 

His sister has been asleep for some time. At the end of dinner Sophie emits a single high pitched bark of irritation. It is of the '' Party if you must but I need my beauty sleep '' variety. After that she disappears downstairs into her 'quiet' spot. This is a cue for generations of family dogs to be remembered with great fondness and peels of laughter.  

And this is the sort of Scandinavian music you want to listen to on a New Years morning : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FNwgOkl5nRY