A fortnight of Texas weather ahead of us. 100 degree plus heat forecast every day with occasional thunderstorms to enliven the monotony. Wilf heads off alone down the lane. The cool of the early morning is the best time of day to find malodorous treasures along the verges .
The town councillors will be coming at seven on Friday evening to enjoy a glass of champagne and talk to the American professors about their findings in the town hall archives. The next stage on the slippery slope that ends with them agreeing to write the proposed book on the First World War ? The academics shake their heads knowingly. We shall see .
Off to Moscow to talk to men in dark suits . Back tomorrow. Wilf has a mano a mano at the foot of the stairs and is told that in my absence he has to safeguard the house and its occupants. He puts his paw on my hand, yawns and falls soundly, and innocently, asleep . His thought for the day " why not go out on a limb ? Isn't that where the fruit is ? "