in the garden

WOOFS everyone and happy summer Saturday morning!

Last night was very dramatic here in the Poitou: loud bangs, shutters rattling (along with my teeth) and big bolts of blue in the sky. I was, as one of our French friend says, 'very perturbated'.

But as you can see, I'm back blogging this morning. Or maybe I should call it 'dogging'? (KW: No, you definitely shouldn't.)

In addition to asking for more of me, many readers over the past few years have asked for pictures of the house where I live, but my human never got round to doing it.

(Honestly, if you want something doing, ask a doglet! There is a reason why we are considered reliable.)

So I thought I would start off with a picture of le petit jardin.

Last summer it looked like this:

A man came to knock down the building in the right hand corner and remove a flower bed.

When he had finished, he asked my human, 'Have you thought of having the wall repointed?'

She hadn't, mainly because she didn't know what 'repointing' meant. (Even I know that it means cleaning up the stones, chipping away the old cement and replacing it with a new sandy filling.)

I really enjoyed rolling around in the rubble and having more space to play in.

Unfortunately, as you can see from the top picture, the situation did not last.

I now have to share my space with some very tall flowers (although I'm sure they won't last) and all the clutter that humans bring.