Mardi blah

Not a lot to report from the southern front. A cooler day today after Monday’s scorcher, which would have encouraged a greater degree of activity in the dogs were it not for the fact that we dragged them round the hills for an hour yesterday evening and completely knackered them out. They slept like logs until a neighbour’s dog decided to put his poochy head above the parapet, prompting an instant awake-and-stampede so beloved of my lot. I dragged myself from my bed to restore order, only for the labrador on the other side of us to set them off again. From my mother’s deep sighs, I get the feeling all seven of us are outstaying our welcome. None of the gang can possibly measure up to her precious little Pyrenean shepherd dog (who is currently in lodgings for her own protection) and with every surreptitious tongue in the tea and not so surreptitious lick of the plate, their stock falls ever faster. ‘My dog would never do something like that’ has been an oft-heard refrain these past weeks.

I was hoping to put in a few photos because the views we’ve been enjoying on our promenades des chiens have been absolutely exquisite. So not the best time to drop and break my camera...the techie guru has promised me he’ll get his tiny screwdrivers on the case and see if he can breathe some life into it. If not, then I may have to go and have some retail therapy courtesy of the electronics department of M LeClerc. It helps that I still live in that happy deluded land where 2 Euros equal £1. Let’s have a look at that Nikon...