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 . . .

It’s been a while since I showed you the progress made by the Milky Bar kids. These past ten days has seen a marked difference and suddenly, Maman Fleur has time on her paws to enjoy the company of our other adult cats while her little ones explore their new world. Since I last blogged about them, they are now bombing around, climbing, running and chasing one another. They have discovered ping pong balls, and toy mice. The litter tray was introduced and immediately understood. They are also enjoying baby food and cat milk rather than draining their mother dry. Their bowl of water affords them endless fascination as they dip their paws in, creating little waves and much mess.

This has been an incredible journey for us humans too as we watch (and learn) the inter-play between Maman Fleur and her little ones, the different calls she makes to them when it’s time for their feed, teaching them how to kill a toy mouse or when she returns from being away from them. So far we’ve managed to name Little Fleurette, but the ginger boys are proving difficult. At one point I nearly called them Tom, Dick and Harry but it didn’t seem quite right. Nigel is keen to call at least one of the boys Ginger, but I’m somewhat hesitant. I’m sure you’ll remember last year he wanted to call Fleur’s brother Yoda (’cos he had rather big ears) when we adopted them. Yoda is now sensibly called Graham.

Least you think that my time revolves solely around these little furry balls and my computer, I must tell you that I do, occasionally, join the adult world. Such was the case when I attended a workshop entitled ‘How To Get Ahead In Publishing ‘ this morning in Valbonne. The presenter was a super lady called Marie Clayton who gave an excellent insight into the book publishing world. She is to give three more workshops which should empower us all to become authors. It is true that I write but I don’t feel I am an author. And while at times I can find it frustrating to face a blank screen and wonder how it is possible for my inspiration to suddenly deflate, I am writing short non-fiction articles on a subject that is easily researched. But to write a book and keep all the threads going - now that I am in awe of.

I have a feeling that the logistics to moving our four dogs, seven cats and four kittens to our new home is going to prove a tad challenging. While all the felines can certainly travel in Gus the Bus, it’s the number of cat baskets we’ll need that’s slightly daunting. Having said that I think we have as many computers as animals now and finding packing boxes for them should prove an interesting exercise. Various coloured folders are now on my desk filled with an assortment of action plans, To Do lists, maps and property details. Staying focussed will be essential but, unlike many people when they move, we are not tied to a deadline - though I would like to be ‘in’ by Christmas . . .

Nigel and I have decided that our best course of action is to rent a place initially. Like intrepid adventurers our first trip will be one of reconnoitring the lay of the land and seeing what kind of properties exist. Shall we buy a ruin or something partly renovated? There again, moving straight in without having to do any DIY or building work might suit us best. Above all, there must be an internet connection. It will also be important that we work with a truly trust-worthy estate agent and while using the internet as a basis for my property research has been a god-send, dealing with a professional but caring team will be essential to the positive success of our venture.

I must admit that the thought of moving from here scares me a little but at the same time, fills me with a sense of anticipation and excitement. The Lot and Garonne/Dordogne region of Aquitaine, known as the Other South of France, is a land rich in chateaux, medieval villages and architectural sites so I’ll feel right at home there. In fact, Nigel and I made a brief visit there in August 2004 to interview the very charming Polly Platt and vowed to return to discover the region in more detail. Four years on here we are planning to move there. Funny old world.

Further afield is the Gironde and the Atlantic coastline and Arcachon Bay that claims to have Europe’s largest sand dune, the Dune de Pyla, whose tip is called rather brilliantly Cap Ferrat. After the pebble beaches of Nice it will be fun to discover over 3 kms of uninterrupted and beautiful golden sands. I hasten to add that this is not one of my photos but one found on the internet. I look forward to the day when I shall stand in that same spot, sand creeping through my toes, and take a photo myself.