The English Paysanne

Yesterday we had to say goodbye to our one in a million dog Milo, for a small dog he has left a huge hole in our life. Now free to run where his great big hunting nose takes him he will be so missed.

A moment from the week at La Singlarie Even though Milo's blind there's still a bit of a hunting dog in him. Especially when Mabel seems to think the garden is her domain.

A moment from the week at La Singlarie Some days you just have to dig a hole and lie in it

A moment from the week at La Singlarie  Who needs an iron when you have  Milo, thankfully he is pressing farmer J's overalls and not the gites sheets (this time). Who needs an iron when you have a Milo

A moment from the week at La Singlarie Waiting

Were starting to get in the Christmas mood. All cards have been written AND posted (Its only the 8th Dec, a record for me to be that organised) Christmas cakes are being force feed brandy, mincemeat made and the first batch of mince pies eaten. this year we are swapping 5kg of beef for a a turkey and wine - the turkeys have been raised on a vineyard where they go for a walk each day - yes more bonkers English around other than us. Even most of the presents have been brought (and wrapping started) or ordered, keeping our post lady busy delivering those Amazon parcels to us. She will stop soon with the annual post office calender which I never know how much to give her for one. So much easier with the fire brigade who get 20 Euros (I want to be able to know they will come out to us should we need them!) Can't believe farmer J suggested going into Albi for a Christmas shop, a bit of a quick dash with lunch. It was as bleak as the photo of the cathedral looks. The F...

We have had a few deaths the past fortnight in the chicken world. One of the old brown hen was the first to go. When we calculated she must of been around 8 years old, not bad for a chicken I'd say, especially as ours have a hard life free ranging round the farm. Last week I found our old cockerel with the hopperdy leg dead in the sheep and Gorgons field, he could have been trodden on accidentally but there was no sign of injury.  I'm pretty sure the old chickens are now sighing with relief that they only have three males around (the mallard seems to have gotten over his admiration for the chickens for now so they do not have to run away from him either). Last night as Master C shut the pigs and chickens up he found the last of the black girls I bought a couple of years ago on the floor having a fit. She got over it and was put in a crate for the night, this morning I found her a little stiff and cold. Another one bites the dust.  The legs of a white chicken, getting...