The table

When we lived in the UK our dinning room table was on the whole empty of everyday life, occasionally a vase of flowers was placed on it, homework was completed and meals eaten. A very different sight to our table at La Singlarie. The only time it has nothing on it is generally thirty minutes before friends come round for a bite to eat, when the deck is cleared and placed somewhere else. It certainly is a used table, in two ways brought second hand from a shop in Villefranche it has end leafs seating up to ten people, although a little squashed in our dinning area with dog chairs and beds having to be removed. Secondly it is used everyday to eat at, it is the office for gite bookings and meat orders and where paper work is done. Coffee and tea is drunk around it, sometimes with cake while conversations take place.

Crafty activities take place here to, material cut knitting measured but no fleece carding (after being banned when our old table went wobbly due to zealous handle turning on a difficult fleece). Miss F occasionally draws and paints, Master C downloads his photos and the cat sleeps on it in her  basket but only if it is on the table. Occasionally uni work is written and even more occasionally my French homework is completed.

Today on the table was Fizz asleep most of the day in the basket, the laptop, i pad, PAC farm forms to be filled in (I've started) for our grant funding for the year. My mobile phone, which is normally in my bag so never mobile or heard if it rings, vets bill waiting to be filed and a pile of paperwork. Fizz's worming pill which has been there since Wednesday and will stay there until I work out how to get it inside her - dogs are so much easier to worm, hiding the pill in a bit of meat and gone in a flash. Franklin's insulin needle, two carrots brought back in my jeans from this mornings pig feed as the donkeys stayed in the woods, it was pouring with rain, I think they are still sulking from being denied access to the poly tunnel and lastly a pig catheter for our old black sow who's finding it a bit hard to get pregnant. Who'd of thought one of those would be on the table - as bad as pig semen in the bathroom (it has to be kept at a constant temperature of 18 degrees). How our life has changed.