Always use a trowel.

The sun shining, the water main repaired, the baker back to making baguettes . Life in deepest France Profonde after the storms .

At the newsagent three ladies with string shopping bags are having an intense conversation with the purple rinsed hair lady behind the counter. '' At six she was sitting by her fire. By nine she was in hospital and on the operating table " . Angus waits in line for his paper . After five minutes he recognizes that the four of them have become so engrossed that they're oblivious to everything else. He puts the paper back on the rack and leaves . None of the ladies notice his departure. This morning Angus has learnt that the French for gallstones is calcul biliaire.

'' Take a look at this ". The owner of the cafe proudly escorts me into the newly redecorated ' restaurant ' behind the bar. The air still heavy with the smell of recently applied gloss paint . The beer and absinthe set never venture here, preferring to get their nutrition straight from the bottle.The owner has fixed an illuminated Fosters Beer commercial on the wall next to an advertising sign for Clan Campbell whisky and another for Ricard. I know that the sign is illuminated because the electrical wires are hanging out of the back.

'' C'est superbe ! Non ? " he inquires . '' Yes, it is ", I reply with a lack of conviction. The owner looks crestfallen at my half hearted response. '' C'est magnifique ! " I add , wondering if the French understand irony . He beams. Angus , the local arbiter of taste, gets a free coffee. Wilf gets a bowl of water and half a croissant .

Lesson #4 when living abroad . When applying praise always use a trowel .

" Incroyable ! " .

Spring has arrived and with it sunshine and a wave of 'incomers '. It's the half term holidays in Paris and the summer homes are being opened up and dusted down after the long winter . The car parks suddenly full of large cars with Parisian number plates. The little shops in the market town now selling garlic and upmarket roulades to Prada clad spouses.

The German billionaires are back at the chateau. Wilf spends much of the day barking at a new, and very shiny , Arctic white Ferrari that cruises noisily up and down the lane . Each time it hits the speed bump there is an expensive crunching sound from the suspension. Wilf seems to find this noise strangely satisfying .

The senior vet stops in on his way back to the surgery . He's been out visiting a herd of cows at a neighbouring farm and happened to be passing. He gives Wilf a quick fingertip check . His conclusion ?. '' Dix-sept mois ! Incroyable ! ".

We sit , under the mimosa, enjoying the warmth from the evening sun. Wilf falls asleep on the vets feet . For him not so much a vet more an old friend . Time to share a glass of champagne and toast the healing powers of unburdened optimism ; PON style. Our laughter just about drowns out the burble of the Ferrari .

Mille feuille.

The water mains still broken . Our usual baker standing glumly at the door of the shop turning customers away . He's tried using bottled water to make the dough but it ' just can't be done '. The council workmen have promised him the work will be completed by this afternoon . He shrugs .

Off across country with Wilf in search of an alternate supply .The new bakers in the little market town is doing a roaring trade . The window chock full of cream cakes . The inhabitants must have a very sweet tooth . Each of the retired ladies in front of me buys a baguette and a cake so there might be some truth in this observation .

To the cafe . The man behind the counter fills up Wilfs bowl with water. He doesn't have a croissant left . He does however have the end of a baguette . Wilf accepts this with good grace then settles down on the floor and goes to sleep. The coffee is bitter and burnt as only an €0.80 coffee can be . Somewhere between bracing and undrinkable.

By the time I've finished Wilf is already snoring gently. A quick '' Come on matey !" and he's on his feet and following me out of the door. Seeing him walking confidently along , navigating doors and kerbs, you'd never believe he was blind. There again old PON's know : ' When the winds of change blow, some seek shelter, others build windmills '.

'' It's quite a job ! "

A few small ribbons survive here and there but the snow's largely gone . The rising temperatures bringing an outbreak of burst pipes. The bakers once again without water . Wilf has to forego his illicit half croissant . He gets a hair tousle instead. No water for coffee at the cafe so we wave farewell to the beer and absinthe crowd who raise their pre-breakfast beer glasses in return.

The workmen digging up the square tell me that the mains will need to be repaired. " It's quite a job ! " the foreman adds by way of embelishment . Angus nods , looks in the hole at nothing in particular, and makes what he hopes is a suitably Gallic sound . He aims for surprise mixed with horror but it comes out sounding as if he has a bad case of phlegm . Wilf sniffs the air.

Back in the village , the old widows water pipes have also burst. A lake forming in the dip in the road outside her front door. Wilf circles the lake cautiously, then decides to walk through it. Angus bangs on the door to break the bad news . The location of the stopcock unknown . '' My husband dealt with things like that " . Eventually it's found . Angus, supported by a small, white, increasingly muddy, polar bear digs a ditch to let the water drain away .

The plumber says he's busy but after being reminded that ' she could be your grandmother ' arrives after lunch . Rule #3 when living abroad : Where reason fails , try shame.

Life in deepest France Profonde . A corner of the world where people still understand the old maxim : ' Go often to the house of thy friend , for weeds choke the unused path '.

Unheard sounds .

To the airport with ' the font ' . The lawyers insist that the rental agreement with the folk from Boise be signed and witnessed in London .

On the way back home Angus makes a quick detour to McDonalds with Wilf. This being a French McDonalds there are macaroons . Angus chooses a Brownie . Wilf gets a wholemeal muffin and a bowl of water . Wilf then falls asleep on his side under the table. This early in the morning the McDonalds is empty so it is only Angus, the waitress, and the two young men behind the counter who hear Wilfs snoring .

Wilfs hair is plastered down where he's been asleep. '' You're looking a bit squiffy today " I say while lifting a small , somewhat disheveled , polar bear into the back of the car . Wilfs face seems to say ' If a man points at the moon, an idiot will look at the finger ' . His Thursday morning PONder .

Cauliflower bouillon and laxative salts .

Angus makes it to the airport through thick fog flecked with occasional snow . The flight is delayed . Then delayed again . Then again. Angus drives back home . The flight is called for boarding ten minutes after he leaves the airport. The folks from Boise will have to be welcomed ino their new home by the realtor. Wilf , by contrast , is overjoyed that his flock is reunited .

The post lady arrives. The first time we've seen her in a week and a half. For Angus a pile of bills. For ' the font ' a large,embossed, clearly very expensive, envelope from Italy . A brochure for a health farm . Over the holidays ' the font ' has gained a kilo in weight. This apparently is a disaster. The fact that Angus can put on a kilo after a couple of pints , a packet of pork scratchings, and a rugby club sausage roll is apparently immaterial .

'' Wouldn't it be wonderful if we could go together ? " says ' the font ' . Angus opens the brochure . His eyes fall upon the words ' laxative salts with every meal ' . He then looks at the price list . We could take a suite in the most expensive hotel in Paris for a week , bathe in vintage champagne, eat nothing but filet mignon and lobster, and it would still be cheaper. Much cheaper . This indisputable logic is met with silence.

An afternoon walk with Wilf. If he ran a health farm there would be sausages and coconut ice cream. Long walks in the afternoon. Touch rugby in the evenings. Lots of naps. No laxative salts or cauliflower bouillon. His attitude to life : ' If I try to be like someone else, who will be like me ? '.

Idaho must wait .

The good news : It's getting warmer . Above freezing for the first time in ten days.

The bad news : It's snowing again . Heavily .

Open the door for Wilfs five am pit stop . The old fellow disappears nose first into a snow drift . Dog and owner then disagree over whether this is a good time to go for a walk . Dog thinks it is , owner dressed in dressing gown and slippers doesn't . Owner finally wins. Dog , after rolling in the snow, gives owner a ' keep your hair on ' look and comes back indoors.

Angus is supposed to fly to London this morning to welcome the new tenants into the flat and sign the rental agreement . An American couple from Idaho . Something to do with potatoes . In Europe for a year to visit the Olympics and ' take in ' the Queens Diamond Jubilee celebrations . Toulouse airport is of course closed by the snow. A morning spent calling the airline, the realtors and the wannabe tenants awaits . Bet things work in Idaho when it snows.