I'm up with the lark, and come to that the sun too. The early bird catches the worm, or in my case has to make the morning cuppa. I've already paced the terrace and looked out over the gently sloping southern red rooftops of the village and noted, not without some satisfaction, that it looks set for a beautiful day. The pretty red and white check gingham tablecloth is waiting in the early morning warmth to be seductively set with warm croissants and fresh slightly crunchy baguettes. Why aren't you here ? http://www.chateaulasserre.com/
His Lordship picked a pretty bunch of violets nestled in the garden. I'm going to amble down there soon, admire the mimosa and its wonderful scent that fills the air with its powerful aroma. The lilacs fat buds are bursting forth and the 'two girlies' at the bottom of the garden will be craning their scraggy necks and peering with their beady eyes to see if I'm going to push them any fresh spinach through the fence. Such is their faith in human kindness they now rush forward when I arrive.
I don't have long though to enjoy my peaceful haven. The Small Cross One is off to Madrid so her entire wardrobe has to be laid out fully laundered for inspection. I have the thrilling prospect of being somewhere on the M25 later today and the even less thrilling experience of arriving via Ryanair at Stansted.
In fact, on reflection, I have such an enormous amount of tasks to do this morning I'm going to have to forfeit my tentative dip in the pool.