Severe weather warning.

The mercury fell to minus fifteen last night and our little piece of paradise is on tenterhooks waiting for a snow bearing blizzard to sweep in from the Atlantic. The news bulletins have told us to expect heavy snow falls and storm force winds - exactly the sort of weather we left Scotland to avoid! We shall see what transpires. Heavy snow for the French might be what Forfarshire folk would consider to be a light powdering. Yesterday afternoon 'the font', acting on advice from Madame Bay,drove to the nearest market town and invested in the local sport shops entire supply of candles and calor gas lights in case the power to our remote corner of Tarn et Garonne is cut off. I am now the proud owner of one of those lights that potholers strap to their foreheads. 'The font' has visions of me down in the basement changing fuses by the light of my lonely potholers lamp. It's rather more likely that I'll use it to find my wine to the wine cellar door. Perhaps the boyz will get a late night walk round the garden so I can try it out. According to Madame Bay and her thesaurus of local knowledge the electricity supply can be cut off for days at a time. There again, when pressed, specifics as to when this last happened suddenly become rather vague.

Wilf and Digby are busy hurtling around in the garden . The snap of cold weather has brought the deer out of the forests en masse in search of food. At first light a dozen of them were to be found munching quite happily on the tender bay shoots outside the front door. Wilf and Digby are now racing round in circles frantically trying to find the source of the scent - Wilf looks up every so often as if to say ' Don't you worry ,someone's been here but we'll find them'. Some chance.