Tuesday, December 20, 2011
Another shutter rattling storm raging in the Bay of Biscay . Winters howling batallions barreling towards us from the Nantucket Shoals . One gale immediately followed by another . Boston to Bordeaux in 72 hours picking up rain all the way .
Wilf is curled up in his bed at the front door whistling gently as he sleeps. The poster boy for old dog contentment. I think he's going to stay in bed but by the time I've picked up the car keys he's standing waiting to go out . That canine enthusiasm for getting the day started . I think of the cold wind outside. He thinks of fresh scents , new adventures and lamp posts that need christening. He may also be thinking of his illicit, now routine, half croissant .
The supermarket has set up a new display in the atrium . A mechanical Santa and a trio of grinning mechanical bears happily twisting and turning to the sound of Celine Dions Christmas hits . Quite manic.
On our way back home , Oliver, the old widows dog looks up hopefully from his spot by the front doorstep. No doubting what he's hoping for this Christmas.