In fact the wheat and barley are about as high as a Lilliputian elephant’s eye owing to the dry weather. Behind the trees on the horizon is Mme Roustand’s farm which sells organic eggs, flour, vegetables, lentils, spelt and bread. When I passed by this morning to buy some eggs she served me with her left hand as the right hand was covered in fresh dough from the spelt loaves she was preparing for the oven. The delicious bread that will come out of the oven later today will be on sale from her stall in Niort market early tomorrow morning. I must talk her into letting me take some pictures of her making bread. All this happened long after my new early rising regime brought by Trigger the poodle, our current guest. Our early morning walk did not end well for Trigger. He is very frightened of fireworks, and although fireworks are not commonplace on bone dry farmland, explosive bird scarers most definitely are. As I was eyeing up a magnificent tree filled with perfect shiny black cherries and the additional temptation of a long ladder leaning against it, the first explosion rocked our lives. I think Trigger crossed the sound barrier because he was out of sight over the brow of a hill before I could say “Knife” or, more aptly, scream “Help”. I would not be good as a SEAL save for my liking of sardines. I found Trigger a bit later trying to develop opposable thumbs in order to get into the safety of the house. Whilst searching for him up hill and down dale, as they say, I took this view of where we live. The house is hidden behind a clump of trees which adds a certain weakness to the title “A View of where we live”.