The tiles are still warm underfoot as I open the French doors and shutters to the terrace.  Cool morning air flows inside. The table under the grapevine is in morning shade and angled to look across the hedge to the hills of the Luberon.

Nick is back with the bread and the coffee is made. It seems a bit silly but I’ve brought my stovetop espresso pot half way around the world so that we can have strong,smokey intense coffee in the morning. Plungers and filters just don’t quite get there!

As we sit, peacefully gazing out to the hills, two small spiders, one black and the one brown, provide the entertainment as they climb and drop, climb and drop from the pergola above.

They perform this to a strange soundtrack coming from the pool filled by the ‘font’ of Fontcaudette, which lies to the back corner of the house. At first, we thought it was the sound of squawking birds, a bit like an Australian wattle bird, but it was far too harsh for a European bird. We then discovered that there is a group of quite large frogs inhabiting the pond and it is their croaking which accompanies all our meals. Actually, the croak is pretty much like the sound of a wet foot squelching in a wet Croc!

So, we sit, and gather ourselves for the day. What will we do or not do?image

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