Kilts.

The old house in France has a very large downstairs hallway. I say hallway but in years gone by the farmer used to keep his carriage and farm cart there. However, with the advent of the petrol engine the carts went and the space was gentrified by the addition of floor tiles and heating. Three months ago, when we first moved in, I ordered a suitably wide sisal carpet with a canvas border to help catch some of the dirt that the two boyz bring in from the fields outside. It was delivered yesterday and was a great and immediate hit with Wilf and Digby. They sniffed it for ten seconds and then leapt onto it , wiping their muzzles on the rough texture and rolling backwards and forwards in a canine frenzy of delighted back scratching. Last night at bed time they were both found sound asleep ,under the hall table, paws and legs spread akimbo on the new carpet. I would have thought that the rough texture of the sisal would have been uncomfortable but they seem to think it's as soft as grass. I'm just so happy the two of them are both well and happy - some of the sweetest dog blogs we follow have suddenly taken on a sad tinge where you can feel the family's pain and fear - something non-dog owners simply wouldn't understand.

Scotland plays France in the Six Nations Cup at Murrayfield on Saturday. If the match had been in Paris I would have put on my kilt and headed north to cheer on the lads . However, getting to Edinburgh means a plane change in London, which is one plane change too many . A kilt is a supremely warm and comfortable piece of clothing but travelling by air in a kilt is fraught with dangers - the all too predictable risque jokes from non-Scots and the usual delays at security as sporrans and dirks are checked. ( Many years ago in Atlanta when travelling through Hartsfield en route to a rugby match at Stone Mountain my dirk was taken away from me as a dangerous weapon! An experience nearly as bad as asking for directions, while wearing a kilt, at Mary's Bar in Dacula, Georgia !! ) .There is something always rather charming about the friendly, laughter in the streets atmosphere in Paris or Edinburgh when the two nations rugby teams play - a latter day rekindling of the auld alliance. The electrician, kitchen fitters and plumber all asked me yesterday who would win the tournament. Tactfully, I replied that Ireland were a strong team but would face their biggest challenge from les bleus.

After many attempts the bottom, rather blurry, photo captures Wilf demonstrating the famous wistful PON smile.