I am feeling quite traumatised. I’ve just been extracting a tick from Paul’s bum. God only knows how it got there, we make a point of avoiding any long grass as we know the meadows are rife with ticks that feed on deer and other wildlife. One of the lesser joys of life in the French countryside.
The raspberry bushes are going bananas so I’ve just been outside picking er - raspberries - from the garden. I am expert at choosing perfectly ripe fruits and discovering them hiding under the thick foliage. This usually involves me doing a limbo dance or standing upside down to find the hidden berries.
Yesterday we cycled through Pomarède, a small commune with a few houses, church and a popular restaurant. As we rode past the church a contemporary sculpture caught my eye at the side of the road.
It is war memorial by local sculptor, Patrick Vogel, that was installed in 2003 commemorating local men who gave their lives fighting in North Africa in the 1950s. I’d never really noticed it when we’ve driven by in the car. It's amazing how much more you see when you travel slowly.