Music to a PON's ears.

Cooler now and darker. Wilfs morning walk delayed until its fully light at seven. Not that he's bothered - he grumpily ignores all pre-walk activity until he hears the front door opening and then hurtles along the corridor and down the stairs. There follows two minutes of pure pandemonium while he noisily reminds us - 'I'm here, I'm here! Don't go without me!'. Outside the leaves along the lane are thick, ideal for perfecting that heavy footed pouncing technique or for rolling in while making a satisfying crunchy ,crinkly sound. This morning just enough of a breeze to lift his right ear to a near ninety degree angle.

The new seasons wines are arriving on the shelves of the hypermarkets. Time for the old stock to be sold off at half price and time for yours truly to stock up for the coming year. How the time flies! The whole experience made even better by the discovery of British style bacon and sausages in a neighbouring deep freeze. Not brands one recognizes but how bad can they be? Bacon and sausage - pure music to my, and Wilfs, ears. At the check out 'the font' sighs in exasperation as the breakfast goodies are rung up - point out this is a bit rich from someone who has just filled the larder with air dried sprat. A new 'Great Britain' section in the main food hall - heavy on pickle,crisps, baked beans and mayonnaise. I survey the display of pot noodles and wonder whether they are a British or American invention.