Summer has most definitely arrived. And so has the heat. With the forecast showing little relief from the 30+ degrees, one would think a jump in the pool would be just what the ticket for cooling down – if it wasn’t for the fact that the water temperature is about the same. It’s like swimming in soup albeit more of a consommé now that I have removed all the sand from the bottom. Still, I’m not complaining as Arry and I have the pool to ourselves most days; the exceptions being when Simon and Alba drop in on the weekends to bake themselves on the sun loungers. And as from yesterday, we have an extra visitor in the shape of my little brother, Moth, who has flown in from his home in Kenya to spend a couple of months both here and at his property in Cenne-Monestiés. I doubt he will be taking advantage of the outdoor facilities much though, he’s got a list of things to finish in the main house.

Luckily the sainted Nick and Roy have finished my bedroom at last and I can now sleep at night. The spare room may be comfortable but the bed isn’t quite as big as mine so sharing it with 4 of the woofers became more of a sweaty yoga session than a snoozing sanctuary. I have to say the chaps did a fantastic job especially with the colour scheme – the dark green feature wall has the most soporific effect on one’s brain. The once grey linoleum floor is now a dark wood making the whole room feel cooler, that and the oscillating fan I bought down from the loft. Nocturnal bliss indeed. Sadly, it means the end of having Nick and Roy here for a while as there isn’t anything else to do until they start on my guest room in the Autumn. I shall miss the banter especially as Nick is moving – I still can’t understand why he would want to leave the scorching South for the North’s more temperate climate.

This time last year, we were already heading towards a canicule or heatwave – I know because I’m going back through previous blogs for The Second Book. So far, we’ve been blessed with the odd thunderstorm or overnight drizzle to keep the garden happy. The potager in particular, is now resembling a vegetable Jurassic Park with over-sized spring onions and towering tomato plants. I have also discovered that an ancient apricot tree that D had chopped back to nothing 12 months ago, is now bursting with yellow balls of sweetness. Between the largesse of the legumes and the flamboyance of fruit, we are in for a sumptuous summer.

It is just as well that I now have a calm space to collapse into as Friday night saw the start to Le P’tit Bistrot or the weekly village get-together. Denis and I have been charged with handling the nutritional side of things, actually he roped me into helping him (I’d have been more at home behind the bar). It’s a good job the man knows a thing or two about running restaurants and festival food stands because we didn’t stop serving up kebabs for five hours and that was only because we ran out of meat. I have to say, we made a pretty amazing team, him on the grill and me filling the wraps and if the compliments were anything to go by, a very successful one too. In fact, the whole evening was a monster hit with everyone from the very energetic band to the bustling bar – what a great start to the season. Roll on summer and all things sunshine and soupy pools…

“The summer night is like a perfection of thought” (Wallace Stevens)

We had a doozy of a thunderstorm this week. In fact we had two back to back in one afternoon. I’d just put the cover on the pool (we were warned of a possible orage) when Denis called me from neighbouring Prexian to say it was chucking it down there. Five minutes later, the thunder boomed, the lightning crashed and the heavens opened – very wide. As I said, we had two in a row, the first storm rumbled through within half an hour before the second came charging up in its wake. The driveway resembled the Med. Annoyingly, I was so busy photographing the double rainbow that followed, I missed the opportunity to add The Book into the shot – that would have been a marketing masterpiece.

Mind you, I’m not one to miss a trick. I did do a bit of hawking last night, much to big brother’s displeasure, as Mumo had her apéro dinatoire yesterday evening. To be fair, quite a few of the guests had already asked for a copy but I wasn’t going to let a possible sale pass me by. Needless to say, it was a fabulous party, not just because I successfully flogged a couple more, Alba (my sister-in-law) created an incredible spread of mouth-watering morsels to soak up the copious amounts of alcohol being drunk. Bruschetta, miniature kebabs, sticky chicken wings and Mumo’s much-celebrated pizza all washed down with my equally sought after Brownies made for a very lively night. And no singing was involved – Mumo had decreed such was not welcome at one of her ‘candlelight suppers’. It won’t surprise you in the least that what was supposed to be an early evening soirée ended up with the Rouffiac regulars weaving out just before midnight.

Unfortunately for us late night revellers, any chance of having a lie-in to soothe the aching heads was strictly forbidden – today was the annual village vide grenier or garage sale. The main street which also happens to be the one we live on, was cordoned off so that numerous stalls could be lined up on either side for whoever wanted to empty their basements. Luckily for Denis and his family, their allocated space was right outside our gate so he didn’t have to drag himself very far. Especially as the whole shebang started at 6 am this morning. As we hadn’t considered a career in roadside retail and my book is in English, Mumo and I took advantage of the cooler morning temperature and strolled up said street to peruse for hidden gems. I have to be honest, there wasn’t much to get excited about. Apart from the usual ‘professional’ set-ups that you’d find at any boot sale- those with antiques and brand-new children’s toys, most stall holders were selling exactly the same sort of stuff. Still it was nice to say hello and faire la bise (kiss on both cheeks in this part of France) to familiar faces. And knowing today was going to be another scorcher, I invited D’s visiting niece and her young family to use the pool. This was gratefully received by Melissa, trying to keep a constantly curious eight year old and a teething toddler amused behind a table in the midday heat was beginning to show on her face. I also wanted to rescue the drooping Denis from his great-nephew’s machine-gun questioning, my poor guy looked like he’d done twenty rounds already. The kids had a thoroughly jolly time shrieking and splashing around whilst parents took turns to snooze on the sun loungers. Pools like ours, are made for kids to lark about in even if Arry was somewhat miffed about not being allowed to jump in with them. As much as he adores children, he is a bit of a liability in the water – those what have summered here will understand what I mean. And children’s laughter is far kinder on the ears than his incessant barking in your ear…

“If you obey all the rules, you miss all the fun” (Katherine Hepburn)

The electronic gate has been up to its mischievous tracks again this past week and claimed another victim – Mumo’s new car. Coming back from the doctor, she turned into the driveway a touch too much to the right and scraped the back door on the metal post. Actually more of a paint removal job with a fair size dent added for extra measure. The sainted Nick and I watched the whole scenario unfold but couldn’t stop her in time, bizarrely we were talking about bedroom wall paint at that very moment. Poor Mumo, she was so upset, more so because the Yaris didn’t do its usual ‘beep beep beep’ when it gets close to anything. To make matters worse, her dental crown decided to drop out that same evening – really wasn’t her day. But hey, almost everyone that has passed through the portail has been punched by it at least once and I know exactly what its like to lose a front tooth (I am assuming you’ve all got to that chapter in The Book by now). Luckily for her, I have an appointment at the dentist next week as my implants are almost ready to be attached so I’ll take Mumo with me. That way, she will be back to her beautiful self before her apero dinatoire (bit like a cocktail party with a bit of finger food) next weekend.

You will be thrilled to hear that the pool is just about up to temperature now, that is to say the gauge is reading 26 degrees. Mind you, I took the plunge yesterday and the depths are definitely a few degrees lower – my toes were traumatised. Unfortunately for my digits, such daring feats of bravery are of necessity as the only way to remove the last grains of sand from the bottom is with the hand held pool vacuum. On the plus side I did buy some solar lights for the steps leading to the deck and a few others to replace those that Mo mowed down in her cart last summer. Sturdier ones.

Between the pool and the potager, I’ve managed to keep myself busy which is just as well as I’ve barely seen Denis over the last seven days. He’s been busy getting everyone else’s gardens ready for the season, getting up at dawn and working flat out until dusk. We did however manage to get together last night, albeit with a few of his family, for an impromptu barbecue over at his. Over fabulous food (my D is an amazing cook) and several bottles of wine, we debated politics, complained about the current climate and discussed the best ways of getting rid of migraines until the sun was way over the yard arm. It was the sort of evening I love the most except for the fact that my back started to seize up so I had to make my excuses and reluctantly leave the party. I blame it on all that vacuuming. Swimming is good for sore muscles though and since the rising heat means no running until at least September, I need to do something to keep mind and body fit.

With Spring leaving us at the beginning of last week and Summer arriving hot on its heels, it’s hard to believe that 2 years have already passed since Alice had her pups. And despite the “absolutely no way Sophi” dictates from my family, I kept the best of the bunch – my Sherman. The first of the pups and born literally in my hand, Sherbs has grown up to be the sweetest natured terrier and adored by every one of the pack. Especially Arry. The two are joined at the hip or more commonly, by Sherb’s teeth attached to my German Shepherd’s back leg. If they aren’t interrupting my attempts at Book photo shooting as they chase each other across the garden appearing just as the camera clicks, they are laid out on the deck together complete with synchronised panting. Love you to pieces my darling bit of scruff.

I shall finish once again with a huge huge thank you for all the five star reviews and touching comments on The Book. I still find it hard to believe that it is selling, weirdly the hardback more than the kindle. Next week, I’m hoping to launch the paperback version and start appealing to book stores. Who knows, you might pass it in a window display as you pootle around the airport lounge waiting for your flight number to be called? A girl’s got to dream big…

“One benefit of summer was that each day we had more light to read by” (Jeannette Walls)

The sun has got his hat on, hip hip hip hooray! Finally after weeks and weeks of constant pluie, the bikinis are out and sunglasses on. The change in the weather couldn’t have come at a better time as we have had guests all week. Sue and Pete have been family friends for over half a century, from back in our Kenya days, along with their two children Debs and Rick although only Debs joined them this time. Naturally spending a week here involves one or two trips to wine-related hotspots – I took them up to Laetitia’s family vineyard which lies just above the village and of course, to the Cave (wine co-operative shop) in St-Hilaire. On the way to the Cave we took a little detour down to L’Horte as they hadn’t been there since before Pop died. Or since half the building have been pulled down and Severine and Nicolas have built the farm on our land. I suppose I’ve got used to seeing the old property change over the years but it was quite a shock for them. Sadly all return to the UK tomorrow evening so we are making the most of their last evening here and Simon’s barbecuing. Again. Thankfully it’s a Bank Holiday tomorrow so everyone can recover.

With the thermometer climbing well into the high 20’s and the forecast showing signs of summer, I decided it was time to take the winter cover off the pool. Since Roy had given the water a chlorine ‘shock’ the night before, I coerced Nick (who I always call St Nick due to him never saying no to me) and my darling Denis into rolling the heavy steel-roded bâche into a neat giant sausage shape and heaving it into its storage bay. Naturally I made them bring out the summer version whilst they were down there, I had my hands full videoing and photographing the great occasion so I could do a little more ‘Book’ advertising. Luckily, the water was still clear – I’m told that many in Rouffiac have de-clothed their pools and found them green but we were left with a very dirty bottom. All those winter winds coming up from the Sahara had dumped a whole lot of sand en route to wherever they end up which of course, turned into a sludgy slime. The robot has been in at least three times. It’ll take a couple of days before the piscine looks inviting enough to swim in, unless you’re Arry and then you’ve done a few laps already, but at least with so much heat this weekend, the water is warming up nicely.

As I noted in the last blog, self-promotion is really not my thing. Fortunately however, I do have our Tess to give me a push and guide me through the tangled trickery of social media. Tess knows about these things as she’s already written one book and is busy with the second. I have been clued up on content, how many hashtags one should use on different platforms and how often I should put posts on them. Apparently I should a website too but since Callum is way over there in Australia still and there’s no way my aged brain could figure out where to start, such necessities are not in the immediate future. Tess did say I need some high ‘res’ close up shots of yours truly as well but as I would like people to continue buying the opus, I’m not doing that either. Instead I’m going all artistic-like and snapping the literary masterpiece ‘on tour’ as Debs put it. So far it’s been in one of the rose beds and propped up on a sun lounger, perhaps the potager should be the next location. Thank you thank you thank you by the way for all the amazing feedback and the reviews, I love you lot. I highly doubt I will ever see the best-seller list but it’s nice to know those what have bought it, like it very very much…

“Books are a uniquely portable magic.” (Stephen King)

I’m in a funk. Not just because it’s mid-May and the weather is pants – yup still cold and wet and showing no sign of letting us have a glimpse of the sun in the coming weeks, I also have to market The Book and I’ve landed myself an eye infection. I would put sunglasses on but under such gloomy skies, I wouldn’t be able to see a thing – let alone take a half decent photo of yours truly. The woofers aren’t helping either, every time I ‘set up’ a photo shoot they disappear to the furthest reaches of the garden. The thing is I’m not a natural at selling myself, let’s face it I’m not exactly photogenic and useless with anything technical. The first lot of photos had the opus’ title back to front – something I wasn’t aware of until some kind person on Facebook alerted me to the mistake and how to fix it. I didn’t even know there was an edit button on my phone’s camera. I haven’t got anyone to help me either as Mumo is worse than me at snapping pictures and Denis wouldn’t know one end of a lens from the other. With all this being said, I have decided to postpone further attempts until Tuesday when my job lot of books arrive, the ones I will sign and send. Hopefully by then my eyeballs will have returned to their normal colour instead of the current ‘Queen of the Dead’ look.

Aside from last Sunday’s party in the courtyard with D’s family and a few close friends, it’s been a pretty quiet week. For once the rain held back until the early evening and even though it wasn’t beach barbecue warm, everyone had a good boogie across the cobblestones and downed a fair few bottles of the grape. Seeing the photos afterwards was a bit of a fright, I need to find an air brush app. After two weekends of high jinks and hedonism, both D and I decided some calm and a bit of a cleanse was needed which is why we went out for pizza last night. We were very good about the alcohol though. It won’t be long before the Friday night village get-together at the Bistrot starts again, mind you with my man in charge of the food and me no doubt getting in his way, we will have to behave ourselves this year. I just hope the weather does too. Next week sees the first of our summer guests arriving, I hope they have packed their waterproofs. According to the meteo, it is supposed to be getting much much warmer which could be seen as a plus except for the predicted addition of thunderstorms. Oh joy.

I have to say the garden is looking rather glorious at the moment, especially with another trip to the local nursery resulting in lashes of floral colour around the place. The potager is blossoming too, my brother Simon is convinced our mammoth lettuce (or is it lettuces?) are on steroids. And since Louise next-door has given Denis a new remorque (a trailer) for his birthday, I am going to give his old one a face-lift. Poor Belle has seen better days and some would say she is dump-bound but thanks to Mumo’s brilliant idea, she shall retire gracefully in front of our corner wall and be covered in begonias and bees. It’ll also stop people from parking down there, a constant irk with me as you can’t see the bunkers of roses trailing across the mass of pink concrete when they do.

Before I end todays ramblings, I would like to shout out a big thank-you to all of you for the over-whelming support and cheer-leading. Not just for The Book but also for remembering that Wednesday marked 5 years since T passed away. 5 years seems like a long time when so much of my life has changed since then but not long at all. I still talk to him every evening – I think he’d be proud of me. As I mentioned and I know some of you have already pre-ordered, I will have copies here from Tuesday to be signed so let me know if you want to purchase one with an added scrawl. No photos attached…

“Much publishing is done through politics, friends and natural stupidity” (Charles Bukowski)

Just in case you’re thinking there has been a sudden shift in the time-space continuum, there hasn’t. I am writing today’s blog earlier than usual only because we have the second of Denis’ birthday fêtes today. It’s a family one this time with a few close friends added. D had hoped to do the whole barbecue thing over at his house but due to the non-stop pluie, I suggested it would be better to use our courtyard and the shelter of the remis. I only hope that the weather behaves itself for a while as the gazebo D’s brother Thierry has lent him seems to missing the instructions – we gave up after half an hour.

As I said, it’s been raining. Forget cats and dogs, I think the Ark has parked up in the back garden. Conversations at the épicerie no longer contain the phrase “it’s good for the garden”, talk instead revolves around whether or not Macron will lift the ban on filling swimming pools – we are still in drought emergency according to the Government. Frankly, you could replenish one by removing its cover at the moment. However there is a plus to digging out your wellies and anoraks, Denis and I have had a chance to complete the potager population with various different tomato plants purchased from Abraham (at least I hope they are tomatoes as everyone knows Abraham likes to grow something that doesn’t look dissimilar), courgettes, peppers and more lettuce. All our little offsprings are now carefully bedded in under copious amounts of horse manure. Luckily for me, Cyrelle (owner of the épicerie)’s father has a horse in neighbouring Prexian and allowed us to take whatever we needed. It took us longer than usual to retrieve the treasured poop as D got lost on the way there – a habit of his I have amusingly discovered. Having finally found the ‘in the middle of nowhere’ stables, Cyrelle’s dad appeared and asked me if I liked riding. I do. Or at least I used to but it has been over 30 years since I stuck my backside onto a saddle. Before I knew it, I was being bounced around in Dad’s ancient 4×4 truck across fields to meet the equine – up close they are quite big you know. I’m hoping when the time comes, it will be like getting back on a bike and I am assured he is very gentle if a little spirited, ahem.

We managed another visit to Prexian an evening or so later in the week, aperos with some friends of ours. D got lost again and I ended up laughing so much, I had tears running down my face by the time we got to Michel and Hélène’s house. And what a fabulous place it was. Michel built the house himself and the surrounding land was full of vegetable gardens and an amazing infinity pool carved into the hillside so that when you saw the horizon, you saw Carcassonne in the distance. But if the outside was stunning, what lay beneath their home was even more so. As we entered via the garage, I noticed a gleaming Porsche Carrera nestled in between the various work trucks. How anyone could drive it around here, Lord knows, I can’t see that sort of vehicle manoeuvring around potholes and loose gravel but I did have a little sigh of envy. But it was Michel’s ‘cave’ that really stole my heart. From the table to the barstools and the wine racks beyond, the whole room was picture perfect. And so was the evening.

Alice celebrated her 6th birthday on Tuesday. I have to admit I almost forgot, not that she minded. As long as she has Arry and Sherman to torture, she’s a happy mama. And speaking of events that could slip from one’s mind, I can honestly say I will be over the moon once Wednesday arrives. I was still doing last-minute edits up until the deadline last night. Still, I can’t do anything with it now except hope you all enjoy the ride through those first couple of years. Oh, and if anyone wants signed copies by yours truly, I will happily oblige although they will be sent from here so no idea how long the post will take. At least I don’t have to rely on Denis to deliver them…

“If the road is easy, you’re likely going the wrong way” (Terry Goodkind)

At this moment in time, I cannot think of a worse task than editing. Apart from being hard on the digits, what with all the tap-delete-shift-delete again-more tapping stuff, peering at a laptop screen for hours on end strains the eyeballs even when you are wearing glasses. I know it all sounds last minute but in my repeated stupidity, I realised I had forgotten to put page breaks in and half the chapters were starting on the left hand side of The Book. I know I’m no Agatha Christie but I do want people to be able to read the bloody thing without getting annoyed at me. Still, only 12 days to go and then, poof! I won’t be able to fiddle with the opus any more.

I have to admit that today was the perfect day to concentrate on such eye-wateringly boring travail as I didn’t get home until 3 a.m this morning on account of a certain little celebration with friends. Yes, I did it. I managed to surprise Denis with my carefully-planned birthday fête hosted by our amazingly generous friends, Abraham and Rosa. How we managed to organise the whole shindig over 3 weeks without him knowing is a miracle in itself but we did and what an incredible night it was with friends and family. D’s daughter, Marina, had somehow got a blindfold on him, driven the short distance to Abraham’s place and get him through the entrance before he took it off. My darling Denis was so close to tears as he was covered in kisses and cheers by his adoring throng, he had to bury his head in my chest for a few minutes to calm himself. Dry-faced a minute or so later, that beautiful smile returned and never left. One happy birthday boy. And before you think I am going to put any photo proof at the bottom of this blog, don’t – I was too busy playing barmaid and busgirl to take any. I am hoping though, that one or two of the at least 40 guest list did. As I said, it was an incredible night, not least because several of our musical amis got a band together with Rosa as the lead singer so we sang and boogied until the early hours. So, as today is actually his birthday – Happy Birthday Denis.

D wasn’t the only one to celebrate this week, Yogi Bear turned 13 on Friday. It seems fitting that the two share their special days so close together as they adore each other. I didn’t throw a party for the Bear though, the vet says he’s got to keep his weight where it is. I have to say, the Bear is looking very fit these days and with the weather warming up – the arthritis is a distant memory for now. He is going a bit deaf and because of it, he has become a little anxious when I leave him so I dose him up on Rescue Remedy – works a treat. I do so love my Bear.

Having had so much rain the week before, this one has been sunny and warm with just the occasional downpour – like the one last night but that only added to the ambience. It must be just the right mix of weather as the garden is literally coming up roses. Big ones, small ones and so many different coloured ones – all smelling divine for both us and the bees. They couldn’t have burst open at a better time as D has begun tackling the now jungle-like terre with the strimmer. There are days when he practically disappears into the undergrowth, the weeds and grass have got that long. Whilst they do protect the ground from turning into dust and help the insect population, I do need to be able to get to the lettuce and not step into dog poop on the way. The lettuce are delicious by the way. Next week, we will start planting tomatoes, cucumbers, courgettes, peppers and peas – who knew life could be so exciting in a quiet little French village in South-West France?…

“Count your age by friends, not years. Count your life by smiles, not tears” (John Lennon)

Let’s face it, there isn’t much down here in my sleepy little corner of the world that sends my stress levels through the roof. I think the last time I got in a complete tizzy was when we were building the bloody pool but if the past week was anything to go by, I can still reach near-meltdown point. I’m not even going to mention the weather because although I did ask for rain, in hindsight I should have perhaps negotiated the quantity. And if you’re wondering why this blog is a little late today, I had to race to Toulouse Airport this afternoon as brother Simon’s imminently flying off guest had left her phone and passport chez nous. At least I know Giselle (my car) can hit 200 kms/hr. Naturally, Simon had left instructions to meet in the main car park which, being the start of the tourist season, was wonderfully over-crowded – thankfully his bizarre dress sense (shorts and a pink plaid shirt) stood him out from the rest and Sheila’s necessary bits were delivered successfully. He’s promised to pay any speeding tickets.

The week started with a trip to the dentist to have my X-rays done before she puts the implants into that new faux bone that was fitted last November. The new toofs are going in this Thursday which, up until a few days ago, didn’t bother me – picking up the array of medicine from the pharmacy however sent me into panic mode. It hadn’t occurred to me that the upcoming little procedure would need post-surgery drugs and Denis’ surprise birthday party is next weekend. I’m going to have to spend the time between events loading myself up on painkillers and strapping ice packs to my face so I won’t look like an over-fed hamster.

Speaking of things over-fed, the garden is now resembling a jungle. On the plus side, the lettuce are now ready – delicious even if I say so myself and the wisteria is now hanging off my balcony in all its purpleness. On the minus side, Denis hasn’t been able to cut the weed-covered lawn because of the wet weather so trying to find the dog poop is near-impossible. Until you step in it of course. But the whole property is looking rather spectacular nonetheless with the roses blooming and lilac trees flowering – now we just need the sun back again so we can enjoy the outdoors a bit more.

Mind you, it was just as well that D wasn’t able to do much in the way of work chez moi as most of the rest of the week – post dentist, has been spent arguing with my laptop. Honestly, I almost gave hope of ever publishing my opus. First there was all the problems the week before with my idiocy over the size of the document and then when I finally found the right buttons to re-size it, the bloody laptop didn’t have the measurements I needed in its larder. Not only that, the margins were all wrong and every time I fixed those – the photos moved onto random pages. Thank the Gods I managed to get hold of Callum who was out paint-balling in Melbourne somewhere and he sent me ‘blonde’ instructions as to how to locate the custom files. And that was just for the hardback version. Setting up the Kindle ebook required the patience of a Buddhist monk. Each page had to be reset by hand, chapter headings put back where they are supposed to go and yes, playing hide and seek with the various photos. The only bright side I can see to this whole hugely stressful experience is that I’ll know what to do for the second opus- that is if I can ever get the energy back to finish it.

But finally, finally, after almost two years of tap tapping away, The Book is ready. It has been fun and exhausting both at the same time but I am proud of it. Launch date is May 17th which most of you know is significant as it marks five years since my T passed away. Don’t worry, I will remind you lot every week until then but in the meantime, as promised, you can see the cover…

““A good book isn’t written, it’s rewritten.” ( Phyllis A. Whitney)

Considering I had next to nothing marked on my calendar, for once no vet visits, the past week turned out to be a busy one. Luckily we’ve had just about the right mixture of rain and sun to keep the garden happy as Denis spent the beginning of the week tucked up at home with a nasty cough so I was left to amuse myself in the workshop. Personally, I think he’d been working too hard but he blamed it on our Saturday night visit to the diner down the road (a fabulous 1950’s inspired American one) – apparently the lurgy has hit quite a few in Rouffiac. So with my man being out of action, I got to work on finishing the door for what will be the ‘dog shower’ and cleaning up the rattan furniture in the remis. I have to admit, the chairs have seen better days – victims of the L’Horte flood back in 2018 but with a little bit of D’s ‘Macgyver’ creativity, no-one will be any the wiser.

If my days were being spent covered in dust and linseed oil, my nights were all things laptop. Having finally finished the itty bitty stuff for the Book, I had sent the dimensions to the wonderful Ally, my cover designer, so he could work his magic. He did, of course, and it looks amazing except for the fact that this idiot had mis-calculated the number of pages. I’d loaded everything as A4 instead of the normal book size which meant it was actually more than twice what I’d told Ally so the poor man is having to adjust all his hard work. On the plus side, we still have a few weeks before publishing date because the whole debacle has given me several sleepless nights and I don’t do well without my eight hours of slumber as you know. In a bid to calm my agitated mind, I coaxed Denis into another walk along the river – the perfect remedy for coughs and congested craniums. I don’t know what it is about water, considering I’m a Fire Horse after all, but I always feel at peace near it – the river at L’Horte had the same effect. And such places brings out the child in me. The two of us sat for hours watching frogs bounce around a little rock pool before lying on the bank imagining the surrounding boulders into animals until D tricked me into searching for hidden treasure which ended up with my head being dunked into the ice-cold water. It’s fun to forget about being a grown-up every once in a while.

With cleared heads and throats once more, D and I took the lovely Lionel up on his invitation to join his family for an impromptu barbecue on Friday. I’d wanted to visit his place for a while, not just because I knew he’d rebuilt most of the house himself but because, like me, Lionel loves dogs. Big big dogs. Kangals to be exact. This ancient breed originated in Turkey as livestock guarders, a job they are literally born to do as they are left to live amongst their ‘flock’ from puppyhood. Lionel’s two, Tota and Gaby, are family dogs but also protect his land and its animals as well. Tota, the old male greeted us on arrival and as he knows Denis well I wasn’t a threat – a relief because he really was huge. Gaby, on the other hand, was a 10 month old over-sized goofball of clumsiness with the most beautiful black mask – something that all Kangals have but hers looked like she’d seen a professional make-up artist. Before dumping ourselves on Lionel, D and I had stopped by a halal butcher friend of his in Carcassonne to get some meat and bones for my woofers. The owner is always so generous and I can fill a freezer with his doggy donations but I did keep a couple by for Tota and Gaby. Thankfully such bribes were gratefully received by these gorgeous gentle giants as I know they can bring down a man without blinking. I was also very thankful for the butcher’s end of Ramadan delicious pastries which provided some measure of stomach protection to Lionel’s later decision to bring out his home-made liqueur.

Speaking of barbecues, get togethers and liquor; I popped down to chez Abraham’s yesterday to sort out a little do. Denis’ birthday is in a couple of weeks and I’m planning a surprise party. If living in Rouffiac teaches you anything, I doubt it’ll stay secret for long but organising such an event has kept me from meddling with The Book any further. I know I ought to be tap tapping away on the second one but like my apricot tree bringing forth its first fruit in the coming month, I need to wait for mine to be ready for picking before starting all over again. Callum calls it procrastination, I call it patience…

“If you have learnt enjoying life without purpose, like a flowing river, you have learnt the art of living.” (Girdhar Joshi)

Yup, just as I thought. No sooner had I packed away my winter wardrobe last week, the wind and the rain cometh. Thankfully the sun held out until after the Easter weekend and the Grand Giant Omelette Picnic Day but since then its done nothing but drizzle and blow. At least the garden has had a decent soaking even if most of the blossom is now decorating the terre and the cars are covered in orange dust – blame the gales for that. I’ve spent most of my days holed up in the workshop covered in an equal amount of grime sanding down an oil-covered door – the wood underneath is actually quite beautiful although I have no idea what wood it is.

As I mentioned before, the Easter weekend stayed dry enough for Denis’ carefully planned family and friends picnic on the petanque ground just down the road. And yes, I did meet his mother who was very charming and apparently gave me her thumbs-up – well I did wear a skirt for once instead of the normal jeans and T-shirt ensemble. Between the delicious barbeque prepared by my beau, bopping to French pop and plenty of booze, it was a great day out. Except for the omelette. I was right, rum and honey do not mix well with eggs. Aside from my hopefully once-in-a-lifetime tasting of the traditional fare and a quick lesson in the afore-mentioned petanque (sort of like English bowls but with smaller ‘balls’ and less manners), I got to meet and fall head over heels in love with Denis’ grand-daughter. I have to admit I am not usually one to enjoy small children but the utterly adorable little minx that is Maria stole my heart and most of my attention for the entire afternoon. Even Gaya, D’s Springer Spaniel who rolls over for a tummy rub every time we meet, didn’t get much of a look-in – mind you she was happily occupied turning Bruce and Suzy’s labradoodle into a quivering wreck. It goes without saying that I left my woofers at home, open fields and food are not suited to a stress-free woofer day.

There were a couple of other celebrations on the calendar this past week. Thursday marked Simi’s 10 year ‘Gotcha day’ – the day I adopted her and Ash from Romania. Whilst Ash sadly passed away in 2017 and now lies at his master’s feet somewhere up there, Simi is still happily snoozing on the sofa or pottering around the gardens as she has always done. I think she is about 13 now but apart from being a bit arthritic, she isn’t showing her age. And speaking of ladies not showing their age, it was Mumo’s birthday yesterday. We had a quiet day as only my brother Simon and I were here and the weather wasn’t playing nice but since I made dinner and dessert, she put her feet up and gassed away to her various grand-children on Whatsapp. Considering she was taking calls from Australia, Kenya, London, NYC and even a motorway car park between Oxford and Reading (Louis, my nephew en route to Kent after buying a couple of square pianos as one does), she was on the blower from the time she got up until I called dinner. I’m pretty sure these calls were the best presents my Mum could have. I promised I’d take her clothes shopping when the temperature is suitable for summer clothes once more, Mumo doesn’t do wet and wind well.

According to the météo, we are to have blue skies or at least warmer degrees next week. Let’s hope. I need to get back outdoors and planting things – there’s only so much sanding and turps a girl can take. I’ve been procrastinating over the second book too, my excuse is having to get to grips with the self-publishing website and my technological no idea how. Trying to calculate interior trims, margins, pages and how much space needed for photos just so the cover designer can work his magic is a lesson in the art of how not to break a keyboard in frustration. I still have a month to go before hitting the button so I’ll figure it out eventually- I sometimes feel life would be so much easier if you didn’t have to argue with your computer on a daily basis. No wonder Denis is always so calm, he doesn’t own either the above or a smartphone which is probably why he doesn’t see a problem with adding honey and rum to eggs and setting them on fire….

“A computer will do what you tell it to do, but that may be much different from what you had in mind.” (Joseph Weizenbaum)