Archaeological detritus.

The regional archaeologist is coming today. Monsieur Risottos recent excavations for the septic tank have unearthed a cannon ball, a piece of roman column, a section of rather unexciting stone frieze, a Napoleonic road marker and a strange pagan figure carved into sandstone. These now sit beside the well in the courtyard waiting to be studied and photographed by the 'authorities'. I somehow feel that this is not the end of the story.

For Wilf a day to bark at passing tractors and dream of bowls piled high with cauliflower cheese , fish pie and coconut ice cream. His weight is still falling so the vet has suggested that we mix together his diabetic kibbles with some of the previous low protein ones to see if that stems the weight loss.

The family fellow has now got to the stage where he doesn't like to go out alone when its dark. Come ten o'clock at night Wilf and yours truly can be found walking slowly up the drive and then even more slowly back. Dogs don't complain. Despite his failing senses the old chap has an air to him that says he's just glad to have the chance to love and to play and to look up at the stars.