Moths, Rust and Thieves

In France. Lots of moths, quite a bit of rust and, fortunately, no thieves. The house is great despite its dire state of repair. Apart from every form of insect life we seem to number two frogs, countless goldfish, two "accidental" lambs, and of course the field of charolais cows (plus bull).
Unusually we have a clear blue sky and this is probably the worst sort of weather for cousin Tim who is due to cycle through our valley this afternoon on his way from London to Paris (with 199 other cyclists supporting the Royal British Legion). I don't think that I would have progressed more than 10 miles with my state of physical fitness, so I'll raise my hat/glass to Tim (7 years my senior).
Quirky thought for the morning concerns Mae West. Okay she was a celebrated and beautiful actress who gave her name to a life-jacket. But she also gave her name to a dog (Mae West Boxers) and to a cake. I never even gave my name to a bookshop and, if I ever manage to write the great novel, I'm sure that it will publish under a pseudonym.