The motley crew.

The tree man arrived with his colleague at seven followed by the roofer and his mate five minutes later . Apologising for his tardiness the gutter repair man drove up with his team of likely lads five minutes after that. Ten past seven in the morning and the driveway already looked as though we were hosting a white van convention. By the time we'd all finished saying 'bonjour' to each other, lit a Gauloise , analysed the Toulouse rugby teams chances and determined the health of respective spouses and children it was getting on for seven thirty.

Wilf sat proprietorially in his position by the front door step as this array of workmen set about their analysis of the fallen tree limb and the damage to the roof of the barn. He quickly made the judgement that no Jaffa Cakes were likely to be forthcoming from this motley crew in their bib overalls and withdrew into the hall to resume his morning nap.

My French vocabulary when it comes to tree diseases is somewhat limited . However, it seems that woodpeckers have been busy on the old oaks and wasps have built nests in the weakened branches. "No cause for alarm" said the tree man smiling broadly while looking at the huge, life threatening branch balanced precariously on the barn roof. By eight they had all gone . 'Au revoir M'Ongoose' . It seems the roof, the gutters, and the remaining overhanging oak limb are all to be dealt with another day - something to do with getting the right materials. " No problem. We'll call you later this week " they shouted. ' Yes, and I'm the Pope' I mouthed to myself as they disappeared out of sight down the lane.

At least the large branch has been cut into sections by the tree mans chain saw wielding colleague. Progress of sorts ? Wilf gave me his best quizical look.