Bob Dylan morning on Radio Nostalgie. Madame Bay arrives and is soon singing along happily to ' the times they are a changin '. Madame Bay doesn't know any of the words but this doesn't in any way dampen her enjoyment or her enthusiasm.
It's going to be hot . Seven in the morning and it's 25 degrees. Madame Bay , wrapped in white chiffon and matching turban , joins me in the kitchen . It's clearly not a day for her to hoover. Or, indeed for her to do anything else around the house. While I peel the breakfast peaches; au naturel for me, with oatmeal for 'the font' , Madame Bay settles down for a 'wee blether ' .
The battle between the local bakers continues. The proprietrice has been released from the gendarmerie with a stern warning. A teenage relation was despatched with a mop and bucket to wash the offending slogan off the other bakers window. A fragile peace has now settled over the little market town. According to Madame Bay the proprietrice has recently taken to sitting outside her shop recording the names of the townfolk who frequent the opposition. '' Serves her right " says Madame Bay without proffering any further explanation.
A sunny Tuesday morning in France Profonde.