Smile.

The village Christmas decorations are still in place.  Angus suggests to the village odd job man that he could run a betting syndicate on when they'll be taken down. This is meant in jest but the village odd job man observes ' That's a good idea M'Ongoose. A really good idea'.  Lesson #101 of living abroad. Foreigners, unless they're completely fluent, should never attempt humour in another language.

The hoar frost has covered the trees on the lane by the village pond. At this time in the morning it looks like flowering cherry blossom. I don't think I've ever seen them like this.

The adolescent moorhens are coping with this cold spell just fine. One of them seems unperturbed by our presence and paddles happily away as if oblivious to the fact there's a PONette watching it.

We head home via the old ruined windmill. I can't help but feel Sophie is enjoying this winter weather. Something in her DNA has been triggered. Can dogs smile ?

What d'ya know ? :  https://www.discovermagazine.com/planet-earth/ancient-humans-had-pets-too

Just now this is playing this on the kitchen radio - which makes me smile. The sound of a different, more innocent (?) age :https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=70BsJ51PP2k

What strength.

At  the front gate a spiders web covered in hoar frost stops me in my tracks. The frost coating must be ten times the diameter of the web. Talk about strength.

Out  along the old Roman road. This is not a day for dawdling. Sophie puts her head down and proceeds at a 'determined' pace. Me thinks the ground must be cold underfoot.

Into the third year of pandemic living. How to maintain a blog when nothing is happening ?

The little things continue regardless. The hyacinths didn't bloom for Christmas. They're starting to show signs of life now. Better late than never.

Angus still tries to read two books a week. A history of what happened to the monks, nuns and friars after Henry VIII dissolved the monasteries is an insight into a life style change that was abrupt and irreversible.

The Rickety Old Farmhouse reveals its treasures slowly. The second best sporran is found in a drawer where it was placed for safe keeping eight years ago. One of those places that was deemed so obvious that it couldn't possibly be lost. 

The Catskills go mega trendy :https://www.piaule.com/booking/

Plans for 2022. We like Maine and this looks like a place to visit :https://aubergeresorts.com/whitebarninn/dine/

The three fish.

A perfect day. After the rain and floods nature is rewarding us with clear blue skies . The sun is out but it's below freezing this morning up here on the ridge. Sophie, with her double coat, is oblivious to the cold.

We have a long walk by the river. The floods have swept the pontoons away. They're stuck on a sandbank alongside a small sail boat. A gentleman smoking a pipe is standing next to a man in matching camouflage trousers and jacket carrying a fishing rod. They are deep in conversation.  The pipe smoker seems to be asking the fisherman how he can get out to his boat. There is much gesticulating.

The man in the camouflage outfit has a small pile of fish , presumably bait, by his feet. Sophie, usually cautious around people she doesn't know, suddenly darts across and swallows not one, not two, but three of the fish. This is done at super lightning speed. It is also done in complete silence. Neither man seems to be aware of the drama unfolding at their feet. That's fine by me. She is quickly 'encouraged' away.

The spring in Sophie's step tells you she is remarkably pleased with herself. Life just keeps on getting better and better.

 

Creativity.

Beef Wellington for dinner. This doesn't denote a deep seated enthusiasm for Beef Wellington. It  is  time consuming and fiddly to prepare and, at a certain age, somewhat difficult to digest. We think that the last time either of us had Beef Wellington was fifteen years ago.  'The Fonts' proportions are generous - the recipe from pre-empty nest days. There is enough left over for three more nights ... at least. This may permanently sate our enthusiasm for Beef Wellington. 

Sophie decides that there is nothing, BUT NOTHING !!! , that compares to a sliver of pastry from a Beef Wellington. In PON heaven it would be served three times a day, every day, with double portions on days of the week ending in a 'y'.  The gravy has a little Port in it.  As it's her ninth birthday she gets a miniscule dribble on her kibbles. This  receives a 20/10 and gives her tail a joy overload.

Fast forward to Wednesday morning. The family diva returns from her morning walk looking like nothing on earth.  No prizes for guessing that Sophie has been charging through the laurel hedge in pursuit of a C-A-T. This is not a look you would see at the Westminster Dog Show.  It may be worthwhile grooming urban PONs but rural ones ? Forget it.

A birthday, Beef Wellington crust and C-A-T-S to chase. Isn't life wonderful ?

How Scottish. A trendy hot water bottle :https://www.johnstonsofelgin.com/eu/natural-cashmere-hot-water-bottle.html

What will they think of next ? A wearable variety :https://www.yuyubottle.eu/pain-warriors/post/england-rugby-yuyu

Cab fares ... and tips :https://www.gsb.stanford.edu/insights/tipping-point-subtle-psychology-economics-taxi-fares

Spared.

Yesterday started off dry but a storm soon barged in from the Bay of Biscay. By mid morning the rain was torrential and the sky dark. The view from the window was like looking at a power shower in a bathroom with the lights off. Sophie and her master take brisk round the village walks whenever the rain eases. Sophie would like to dawdle and sniff the exotic scents that the rain is throwing up. She is hurried along.

The rain had a silver lining. Fifty or so maskless hunters had gathered in the village hall before  heading off to cull the deer in the valley. After forty five minutes of downpour, and with no sign of it letting up, the hunters drift away. The valley deer are spared for another day. 

Today, the rain has gone and the skies are again clear. There's a light frost which glistens in the start of day sun. In the village we note that all the Christmas decorations are still in place. No taking them down on 12th night here. Angus wonders if the new mayors 'relaxed' attitude to such things will see them twinkling away 1) next week or 2) next month.

The post lady stops to tell me that this may be the last delivery she makes for a few days. The virus has arrived in the small market town. It seems the school may have to close until the teachers recover . She's getting ready to take time off so she can look after her three little ones. She's less worried about her mother in the old folks home. ' She's had three jabs so she should be alright'. Today , for the first time, the post lady is wearing a mask. Or, to be more precise, she has a blue mask dangling from one ear. 'I put it on if I have to go inside to deliver a parcel' she says with studied certainty.

Billions ? :https://www.vanityfair.com/style/2022/01/what-lies-beneath

Changing sleep patterns :https://www.bbc.com/future/article/20220107-the-lost-medieval-habit-of-biphasic-sleep

Fair(ish).

After truly foul weather over the weekend Monday morning dawns bright and fair(ish). More foul weather is forecast for later in the day so we'll make the most of the blue skies while they're here. The Old Farmer is up early filling a bowl with cream. He places it carefully by the iron railings on his balcony. Within seconds half a dozen of the village C-A-T-S are leaping up the stairs towards him. After Sophie's discovery of the 'rodent' we are more than happy for The Old Farmer to maintain a large feline coterie . In fact, the larger the better. Sophie, it can be assumed, does not share this view.

The mega smart Los Angeleans are on the phone it six . It's nine pm their time. We discuss the usual litany of issues but with Kazakhstan added to the mix. Sophie sits patiently by my desk but makes it abundantly clear that she's like to get her morning walk started. She fidgets, quietly , but not that quietly.

Bird strikes:https://www.thecity.nyc/environment/2022/1/6/22870960/bird-law-spells-lights-out-for-city-owned-buildings-in-bid-to-save-feathered-friends

 

The Swan.

 

Saturday sees January weather settle in. Rain lashes The Rickety Old Farmhouse as a storm barges its way in from the Atlantic. The shutters rock on their hinges and the gutters rattle like banshees. A day for staying  warm by the fire. Sophie deals with the inclement weather by turning on her back, sticking her legs in the air and snoring. She is taken off for three lengthy walks during which her fur gains her body weight in water. 

This morning it's finally calm. The flotsam on the river bank the only sign that there's been a gale .

At the fishing dock we stop and watch a swan. Sophie is intrigued with this large white thing on the water. Her nose twitches. This is a sure sign that she's weighing up her desire to chase after it against her recognition that there's water in between her and her prey. With a sigh she decides that getting wet simply isn't worth it.

Whoaaa !  Things getting to peak Covid here - the click and collect busy the centre of town deserted :https://www.thenationalnews.com/world/europe/2022/01/07/france-hits-record-of-400000-daily-covid-cases/

Saw this on mask wearing which although not adjusted for Omicron is interesting  :

:https://www.wired.com/story/best-disposable-face-masks-n95-kn95-kf94-surgical/

This was a surprising tale :https://www.businessinsider.com.au/afghanistan-restaurant-owner-shipping-container-afghan-kabob-2022-1

Lighter.

Lighter in the mornings now. Sophie finds something tantalizing in the grass verge. She looks up to see I've walked on ahead. There is a 'Panic! Panic!! Panic!!! moment while she races to catch up. We yo-yo our way up the hill with Sophie sometimes ahead, sometimes behind. With delights a plenty in the grass she is rarely by my side and is frequently catching up.

A brother phones from the Hebrides to say he and his wife have been isolating since testing positive five days ago.  Neither of them has had even the slightest of symptoms - not even a sore throat.

Back at The Rickety Old Farmhouse we find 'The Font' deep in conversation with The Old Farmer. He's stopped working on his oil change and is providing a lengthy and emotional account of the scattering of  his lady friends ashes. 'It is a sylvan spot' The Old Farmer says. He then  adds 'It is so peaceful'. The presence of the Bordeaux-Toulouse rail track and the Nissan truck repair centre don't bother him.  The Old Farmer has now taken to driving off to the Garden of memory every afternoon. This requires the venerable Mercedes to be kept in 'tip top' condition, hence the oil change. This morning he has taken down the single row of Christmas lights that he had strung along his balcony railings.

This article about visiting Hong Kong was an eye opener :https://www.propublica.org/article/i-saw-firsthand-what-it-takes-to-keep-covid-out-of-hong-kong-it-felt-like-a-different-planet

Multi-lingual dogs :https://www.vice.com/en/article/z3n3y8/dogs-can-tell-when-youre-speaking-a-different-language-scientists-find

A real contribution

Dinner time. Just as the roast pork emerges from the oven Sophie appears in the kitchen. She's clearly very pleased with herself as she's doing that soft shoe shuffle PONs do when they're having a 'joy' overload. She's tripping over her paws with happiness.

The source of this 'joy' is soon apparent. She drops a dead rodent on the kitchen floor . She then takes a step back and stares at it, longingly. The treasure has been carefully carried from the barn, through the orchard, across the courtyard and into the house. 'The Fonts' cheerful 'What have you got there Sophie?' segues into silence. Angus has a little black plastic bag in his pocket. This is immediately put to use and the deceased animal transported quickly and efficiently outside.

Dinner is delayed while the Lutheran side of the family mops the floor . Sophie, is of course beside herself with happiness. She has made a real contribution to her herds welfare.

 Life with dogs is never dull.

Oaks.

Jupiter ( as bright as an engagement ring diamond ) and a crescent moon shimmer away in last nights sky. The village street lights turn off at nine - a new cost saving measure by the young mayor. This leaves the skies untroubled by light . Our part of France is noted for being 'light free' and attracts a lot of star gazers. We stand outside after dinner and watch the Chinese spy satellites glide over the Airbus plant in Toulouse. The locals view this enthusiasm for standing outside, in the cold, in winter, with an element of 'surprise' bordering on alarm.

Sophie starts her day with a 5:50 tour of the garden.  These early starts ensure that we are the first ones down by the river. The overnight gale has brought out exotic and alluring scents so our sniff every blade of grass progress is glacial. Angus has long ago discovered that trying to hurry along a PONette is like trying to herd C-A-T-S.  It doesn't work.

Covid cases have risen again. More than three hundred thousand yesterday. Adjusted for population that's equivalent to 1.5 million in the US . Thankfully, hospitalizations remain low. For the next couple of weeks we shall remain 'cautious' and revert to using click and collect for all our shopping. Just a little more patience before it burns itself out ?

Back in the village we find that in the strong winds one of the old oaks that line either side of the ox track has blown over. The ox track is blocked.

An avenue of oaks were planted at the time of the revolution. They line the ox track linking the ridge with the valley and stream.  A cynic might think there would  have been more pressing things to do in a revolution than planting oaks but why let logic spoil a good story ? Slowly but surely they're now dying off. The Rickety Old Farmhouse once had twenty or so in its grounds but after 250 years only three are left. We've replanted where they once stood but oaks are slow growing. In fifty years time the replacements might start to look the part.

Random e-mail of the day from an auction house. Is it the angels that make this picture so memorable ? : https://www.sothebys.com/en/articles/sandro-botticellis-the-man-of-sorrows

The thrill of change.

Wednesday morning. We set off from the far gate and head counterclockwise round the village. Sophie loves the thrill of this change in routine. The rising sun lights up the gap between the gates metal bars and casts a rather 'art nouveau' shadow on the gravel. Friends from Moscow call as we walk off along the lane . It's the Russian Orthodox New Year on Friday and they are heading off to Dubai to celebrate. Although nothing is said I sense they may be keen to be leaving Moscow.

The strong winds overnight have covered the water in the  zinc bath with leaves. Sophie pushes them aside with her nose and enjoys a lengthy slurp . Is it my imagination or is the water turning green ?  Sophie is drawn to it as Angus would be to a bottle of Cheval Blanc.

On our return 'The Font' announces that Sophie needs grooming.

She is badly in need of it. The festive season has done nothing for the state of her  fur ( although it remains , in parts, healthily soft and fluffy ). Turns out Sophie is not in a mood for being groomed. After ten minutes of dealing with a squirming diva 'The Font' decides that a a partial grooming is better than none at all. Sophie heads off in pursuit of a C-A-T that has been watching the grooming process from atop a pile of logs in the barn.

 

This was great reading :https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/an-ancient-greek-astronomical-calculation-machine-reveals-new-secrets/

This is where the Muscovites are staying in their quest for guaranteed sun. It looks very 'modern'  : https://www.addresshotels.com/en/resorts/address-beach-resort

How would we have managed ?

Omicron continuing to spread. Calling around we find that half a dozen folks we know in London and Scotland have got it. The symptoms appear to have been  tiredness for a day or two followed by a manageable cold for another four or five days.  Everyone has the same question  - 'How would we have managed without supermarket home deliveries ? '   In a sign of the times e-mails are exchanged with details of what vitamins did,  and did not, work to alleviate the symptoms.

Sophie and her companion have a tour of the village, climb up the hill and then detour to the waterfall for a lengthy drink and a chance to practise some inept minnow fishing. Then it's home for a napette, in the sun, in front of The Rickety Old Farmhouse. Being a Calvinist Angus knows that this balmy New Years weather is too good to be true. Punishment will surely arrive with a snow bearing  isobar that links us directly to the North Pole.

Today is a day for taking down the decorations. It only seems like yesterday they went up.

Last night we had dinner in the Hammer House of Horrors dining room. The end of this Christmas seasons entertaining. Naked flames and fraying and inflammable wall coverings always make meal times in the old dining room 'interesting'. Tonight we can get back to eating in the non-combustible safety of the  downstairs kitchen.  Sophie loves having dinner in the dining room. 'The Font' thinks this is because she finds it warm and comforting. Angus thinks it more likely that two centuries of farmhouse dog odour have etched themselves into the floor tiles. It is just as likely she can hear the mice scurrying away in the attic.

The villagers return to work.

Another stunning start of day up here on the ridge. Shirt sleeve weather at the start of January. Go figure . 

Sophie and Angus share a croissant in the back of the dog car then have a thirty minute walk round the shopping centre. The Mallards outside the electrical retailers are chased - noisily but inefficiently. To be Covid safe we go to the bakers 'Drive thru' window. The youngsters there are wearing masks - but below their noses. They maintain a cheerful and constant conversation with each other while dealing with our order. The Omicron variant has now arrived in France profonde - a daily total of 220,000 cases nation wide -  and there's no doubting that a lot of folks are working from home as per  government regulations. The bakers car park 95% empty.

On our way home a pack of six super lean Beagles appear out of nowhere and hurtle towards us . I brake and they disappear into the distance behind the car. I've never seen dogs leap like these Beagles. They must skip a good three feet of the ground as they charge across the fields. This is quite something for a Beagle that's probably half that height at best. Each Beagle has a green collar with three bells on it. They jingle like a herd of Reindeer. I'm guessing a local farmer has a pack of them to keep the foxes at bay. Sophie makes it quite plain that she would like to be out with the Beagles.

The family diva frequently scores her curly croissant ends with a 12/10. I'd give this video a 15/10  :https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ea7PMbxxNKY

Like Spring.

On the six am radio broadcast an announcement by the Interior Ministry that the New Year celebrations have passed 'quietly'. 130,000 police and emergency services were on duty. As a result of their 'vigilance' only 874 cars were set on fire ( a bizarre French tradition ) compared with 1316 last year. 

Another abnormally warm start to the day. It got into the low 20's yesterday and the same is forecast for today. More like Spring than deep winter. The sky above us is  crisscrossed with contrails as  we head out of the gate. Overnight flights from Chicago moving at right angles to early morning departures for Spain. They make a great checkerboard pattern in the sky.

By the River Angus chats away to Mahattanites worried about Ukraine. That flawless innocence of the New Year didn't last long. This year, more so than last, I think that a trip to New York might be on the cards. A fourth jab and the cresting of the current wave might make it possible. For the time being travel plans can wait.

Sophie paddles contentedly in the water by the concrete boat dock.

Heading back to The Rickety Old Farmhouse the PONette finds something  edible on the low wall that surrounds the village pond. By the time I catch up with her whatever it was has been swallowed. Sophie exudes happiness.

 New Year listening / reading :

That Airdrie accent again :https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qP-7GNoDJ5c&list=RDGMEMc6JZQrQ__ROET3gGdz-Trw&index=8

This is -apparently- one of the very best places on the planet for star watching :https://www.kachilodge.com/

How animals make decisions :https://www.pnas.org/content/118/50/e2102157118

A New Year.

The sky is clear, the stars bright. A perfect Hogmanay night. The church bells chime in the New Year. They peel out 13 times followed by a pause then chime 14 more times before lapsing into silence.  The tikes light fire crackers. These set the old widows mutt a howling. The farm dogs in the valley lend the mutt their vocal support as does the visiting Bassett. The Old Farmer appears on his balcony. We wish him a Happy New Year. At 2:26 Sophie finds she's wandered into the library and the door has shut behind her. She alerts Angus to the enormity of the situation.

Out in the garden at one in the morning we discuss what the high point of 2021 was. 

No doubting the answer.  Sophie got her first view of the sea .... and discovered it was both wet and cold. This choice may say much about the enforced 'domesticity' of a pandemic ordered year.

And we had our first trip away in eighteen months.

 What new horizons await in 2022 ? Stay safe !

 Could any song be better this morning ? :https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pD4K1v2lKk4

Is this the year to buy an electric bike ? :https://moustachebikes.com/en/electric-bikes/cargo-electrique-lundi-20/lundi-20-5/