Last year I wrote how Freddy and Archie delighted in spending hours munching their way through the ripened grapes growing over our pool house. Well, this year Archie’s already in his element with the cherry tree in our front garden. His tactic is a simple one: jump. And it’s not just cherries he’s after either. He and Freddy (aided and abetted by Maggie May) have had a grand time pinching all the strawberries too. Just for fun I decided to grow some strawberry plants out by the office terrace. However, no sooner had the juicy fruit turned red than three hairy monsters gobbled them up, returning to the office smacking their lips in delight. I have since moved the pots out of reach in the hope that Nigel and I manage to eat one strawberry before the birds get them.

Actually, on the subject of gardens, you may like to know that France is to hold it’s national Gardens to Visit (mine is not on the list) next week which you may like to note in your diary. Entitled Rendez-vous aux Jardins, it takes place on Friday 30th, Saturday 31st and Sunday 1st June. This is a wonderful opportunity to visit some gardens not normally open to the public. Culture France has set up a special website with a programme showing all the gardens available to visit throughout France. Though the site is in French it’s easy to navigate as you can choose a particular department or theme which then gives you a long list of gardens. The link here takes you directly there.

Talking of weekends, this was also to be the weekend that Nigel and I were to drive over the the Aquitaine for a spot of house hunting. After much discussion we both decided to give ourselves another year or two before moving. What changed our minds? It’s difficult to say but I felt a keen sense of loss and knew I’d regret leaving. For one thing there are still so many more discoveries to be made and articles to be written for AMB Cote d’Azur. Secondly, this land has become my home and I love its culture, people and quirky ways.

And besides, Archie would miss the fun of nicking all my fruit . . .