



A lunch invitation from the local grandees . This will give us a chance to see inside their chateau . A great ancient stone blob of a thing set on a little mound beside the river . No towers, no ornamentation , no side wings , no outbuildings , no garden. Just an enormous oversized square punctuated by permanently closed shutters . Castle Gloom beckons .
'' The font '' being a social animal is looking forward to lunch . Angus , having briefly met the owners is less sure . The chatelaine a woman in her early sixties with stout walking shoes , red stockings and her hair in a bun . He rather older with a cravat , jeans , a blazer and a monocle . '' The font '' has visions of great finesse and luxury . Yours truly is betting on austerity - a lunch of tepid minestrone , chewy beef and one of those rennet based milk puddings . The dining room probably heated to near arctic temperatures .
With Wilf to the bakers. I chose the largest fresh cream cake and an advent calendar. The cream cake shall be taken , together with a bottle of wine , as a lunchtime gift . That way there might be a chance of avoiding blancmange . Wilf , after a grooming , will be joining us on this expedition .

Seven o'clock on the dot . There's a beep of a car horn as the mayor pulls up at the front gate in his battered , once blue , now much resprayed , Renault Megane . '' Bonsoir M'Ongoose . I was just passing " he shouts out cheerily. His face lights up when offered a glass of champagne . '' No, no I shouldn't . Well only the one . It's been a long day " he says, sprinting up the stairs to the drawing room with a surprising degree of agility for man well into his seventies.
Three glasses of champagne and an invitation to the village finance committee meeting later, he goes . It seems that our local Member of Parliament is coming to the village to discuss funding for the restoration of the church and its frescoes . '' We were wondering if you could look over the proposal for us ? " . ' The font ' says I'd be delighted to . Angus is less sure . As the mayor leaves he turns to me and says " You do know that our MP's a Radical Socialist ". As the mayor drives off Angus is left standing in the lane wondering what this little nugget of information could possibly mean .
Through it all Wilf sits in the downstairs hallway happily playing with a squeaky penguin . Old PON wisdom : - " Just remember , once you're over the hill you begin to pick up speed " .




That great rarity - a day without builders, decorators , plumbers or gardeners. Incredibly , no Madame Bay, no mayor , no head banging Goths . After a leisurely post-breakfast saunter through the village Wilf settles down on the doorstep for a restorative nap . He resurfaces two hours later . It's a warm day . While I set up the lunch table on the terrace the family fellow wanders into the kitchen to give ' the font ' his advice on cooking . Creme de Potimarron et lard croustillant, Magret a l'Orange et riz complet, finally Cake au poires et gingembre . He gets some tiny shredded slivers of duck with his kibbles . Ginger cake added to that list of 'most favoured ' treats . He falls asleep under the table, on his back, snoring gently . I'd swear there's a smile on his face .
He's been a little more confused this past week . Two or three times a day he walks into a room and immediately forgets why he's there . We find him standing staring blindly at walls or back of chairs . He'll stand like that for ten or fifteen minutes , his mind in neutral . Other than that he's in a sweet spot . Energy for three walks a day , a hearty appetite , interest in what's going on around him . Eyes and gums still healthy , a sense of mischief as he blusters noisily through the fallen leaves. . Constant laughter - a dogs gift to his family.
PS - A special early Thanksgiving week thank you to Pamela and Edward at the wonderful www.fromthehouseofedward.blogspot.com blog.