After a fashionably dark and damp winter including the never ending wail of the Charente wind in the owl infested chimneys. Mice kept at bay by goose fat plugged in the gaps in the walls. And my resolve to write a novel stiffened by the crippling draughts blowing in from the Vienne River. The sun is now out in pure Technicolor Gold and warming everything in sight. What a relief.
I realise my last post was a bit long – about 1500 words too long – and possibly even tedious, so here are some pictures instead.