Vesuvius erupts.

The ancient oven in the upstairs kitchen finally gives up the ghost . A bang followed by an acrid smell. The lights fuse. At ' the fonts ' urging Angus opens the oven door and looks inside . You'd need to be an archaeologist as much as an electrician to divine the workings of this cast iron Vesuvius . Angus is neither . Time to turn a few knobs and grunt . '' Looks like the filaments gone " said with less than total certainty . The subject of a new kitchen has been re-introduced into our dinner time conversation .

To the supermarket . ' The font ' goes ahead to order coffee and croissants at the cafe . Lifted down from the back of the car Wilf sprints across the car park in hot pursuit . No hesitation . No detour . No uncertainty . A perfectly straight line . How does he do it ? Blind ? Who are you kidding ?

Volume 2 and 3 of the ' Wilf the PON ' blog arrive , freshly bound, from the US. Ten days from ordering to delivery here in rural France . Old PON wisdom . " Do not be satisfied with the stories that come before you. Unfold your own myth ".