A dab of terrine ..

A post coffee and croissant trip down to the old roman road . Wilf zig zags along . He's learnt that when his paws are touching tarmac he's safe and there's no danger of tumbling into a drainage ditch . When they touch the grass verge - time to change course . So we go , happily zig zagging our way past the cows and the old farmers even older tractor .

Home to watch Scotland play rugby . Its night time in New Zealand but nine in the morning here . They're singing the Georgian national anthem ( very rousing ) when the mayor arrives , followed by Sebastian the joiner and Phillipe the plumber . '' We were just passing " the universal excuse . ' The fonts ' crab and lobster terrine , meant for lunch , is finished off . Scotland win.

To celebrate Wilf has some terrine on toast . Angus and his visitors a glass , or two , of champagne . After they've gone Wilf spends five minutes trying to lick off a dab of terrine that's got stuck to the end of his nose . There's a look on his face that says " you only live once ; but if you live it right, once is enough".