Petite usine de gaz.......................

This morning I was mortified in our favourite brasserie cafe bar and here is the reason why!

The weather here is glorious and after all my health "hoo hars" I am now feeling wonderful and Mark and I have started walking again each morning with Sir Digbert happily skipping in front.

I have to get fit as when Mademoiselle Tartelette arrives in a month or so we are travelling to a wonderful brocante that continues for a whole weekend with thousands of stands that  run for 5 kilometres.

 This is how it goes....at dawn you run the stands trying to catch the early treasures as they are unpacked. Then you speed walk the whole length back to see what was unpacked after you had passed on the way up!

Then you walk it again taking your time to search properly and walk it back doing the same. You then either collapse in a heap or like me be an idiot and crawl it on hands and knees again in case you have missed anything and by the time you reach the end wish you hadn`t and demand to be airlifted back to the hotel!

Last year I lay on the hotel bed with two cold wet face towels on my feet unable to move!!

So back to this morning, after our brisk walk through the forest we decided to drive to the nearest small town to collect a baguette and to have a cafe sat out in the morning sunshine to watch the world go by.

We arrived at the cafe to find that everyone had the same idea and the outside tables were full - so we found oursleves a spot inside with Diggers as usual making himself comfy below the table.

At the next table were three very very elegantly dressed madames meeting for cafe, all perfectly haute couture and perfectly coiffed. ( Note to self...must put face on before going to the forest!)

Suddenly the most hideous smell arose from below the table and we realised Sir Digbert was feeling a little windy.

We tried to ignore it but it became SO strong that the faces of the three elegant Madames started to melt and one held her gloved hand over her nose! It got stronger and stronger and it really was EVIL!

Mark quickly marched Digbert back to the car and the three Madames looked accusingly at me! I had to say something so I apologised for Diggers and the ladies broke into hytserics. One said " That`s fine I thought it was my friend here" causing much mirth on their table!

I replied with " Oh ...I thought it was my husband!" and unsuspecting Mark returned to find us all collaped in fits of giggles.

As they gathered their designer bags and tottered out one of them told me that although Sir Digbert is "mignon" he is also a "usine de gaz".........................a gas factory!!!!

Brocantes in the morning mes belles.......early bed and early start...........let me at them!!!