Spring has come to the Perigord.
The blossoms are out on our peach and cherry trees and there are six new- born chicks in the maternity ward of our chicken coop, being watched over by their mum and our pheasants.
Sarko, the old cockerel, is darting around in the big new chicken coop, knocking over the young cockerel every time the newcomer tries to mount one of the hens.
On the sun-drenched lawn, Benson the elderly basset hound is rolling on his back as if he were a puppy, the first lettuce and radishes have been planted and it’s lunch in the open air from now on.
The blossoms are out on our peach and cherry trees and there are six new- born chicks in the maternity ward of our chicken coop, being watched over by their mum and our pheasants.
Sarko, the old cockerel, is darting around in the big new chicken coop, knocking over the young cockerel every time the newcomer tries to mount one of the hens.
On the sun-drenched lawn, Benson the elderly basset hound is rolling on his back as if he were a puppy, the first lettuce and radishes have been planted and it’s lunch in the open air from now on.
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