The pastel shades of the marbled paper that was the dawn sky over Sigoules looked promising this morning. I walked the La Briaude loop. Filigreed leaves along the Eymet Road confronted the rising sun whose light gradually crept across the fields.
Birds sang, cocks crew, and hens cackled. The enraged bellowing of a man seeming to occupy a house in the middle distance ceased as an anxious-looking woman drove up the winding road leading to it.
Cabbages grown by the gardener I have often seen toiling away coolly glistened. We exchanged greetings as I stepped into the now otherwise empty maize field to photograph his produce. 
He had, as usual, nicked the edge of this land to sow his seeds. Slugs were doing their utmost to produce filigreed greens.
Saufiene has said he likes to approach No 6 as if it were his own house. I have told him to feel free. The consequence is that I am receiving ‘presents’ over and above the contracted work. Benoit is in the process of redesigning the garden to accommodate plants that can survive in the prevailing conditions with limited maintenance. A long wooden table, chairs, and a parasol have appeared there. 
An extremely efficient and unobtrusive electric heater now stands in the fireplace of the sitting room which has new curtains. 
Mo just happened to bring a cover for the table that matches these and the bergere suite. She has also donated a couple of attractive bowls. A light has been fitted in the back passage.
Lunch at Le Code Bar consisted of superb onion soup; avocado with a prawn dressing, coarse pate and cornichon; pork cheeks and rice; and profiteroles. Mo, John, and I shared a half carafe of red wine.
This afternoon John drove Mo and me to Sarlat and back. This is a most attractive town full of history and fascinating shops. Its church, although building commenced in the thirteenth century contains artefacts from its first conception in the eleventh. It was a pleasant trip.