Next week the weather is predicted to warm up again but the natives have been moaning about it most of the summer. It has really been a bit like Scotland with a quarter the rain and an added 8-10 degrees of temperature. The rain doesn’t muck about. It comes, crashes down and moves on and never lingers in the depressing days of drizzle that I’ve been used to. Today is breezy and grey but it remains 24 and this is fine by me. From here one can watch the showers trundling across the far side of the valley. I bought a couple of fans in May and they’ve only been needed for a week – so far.
To work on the dog’s waistline, I explored the walks along the Garonne again and made more sense of them. In three or four miles of paths, only three other souls were to be seen, all of them fishing for something coarse in the river. Lots of butterflies and dragon flies were in evidence until I came across the largest buddleia I’ve ever seen. Although in full bloom, I couldn’t see a single insect on it, not even a bee or hawk moth which don’t usually seem to miss a trick.
The mice seem to have been eliminated. The house feels a bit lonely in consequence.