Idiots !

Wilf sat in the hallway and watched in delight as Madame Bay had a rip roaring set too with the builders. Sleeves were rolled up, words were had and stormy glances cast. The workmen had hung plastic dust sheets to protect the library from the debris thrown up by the work on the adjacent wine cellar. The dust sheets were not 100% efficient and our saintly septaguenarian was not happy to find a layer of powdered concrete coating everything. " You idiots may think it's funny but I'm the one who has to clear it up ". With that she picked up a book , took a deep breath, and in a triumph of gallic theatricality blew the offending material in the direction of the gathered workmen. A triumphant ' what dolts ! ' and our chiffoned cleaning lady turned, amid a cloud of settling white dust, and stormed upstairs - all the while muttering the sort of approbations that would make even a seasoned foreign legionnaire blush.

In the afternoon 'the font' went off to find petrol for the cars. Until recently we've had no trouble finding diesel for the SUV or 'regular' for the little Volkswagen but the blockades of the refineries now seem to be having an impact. Our local garage has cut its opening hours and the 24/7 supermarket is only open from 9.00 am to 6.00 pm.

Wilf continues to surprise and delight. His Cortisone fuelled appetite is voracious and his enthusiasm for life boundless. These days might be tinged with foreknowledge but that doesn't stop them being a laughter woven tapestry of walks, exploration, swing biffing, mischief and fun. Madame Bay of course adds a powerful stimulus to the overall experience. Wonderful autumn days. The best part ? Wilfs delight at being allowed a small taste of the almond and pear tart at dinner last night. Off to bed, tongue licking his muzzle, to dream of life as the patiserrie dog.