If I was a sculptor, but then again, no

Ooh ‘eck me ‘ead ‘urts. Nevermind that, there’s places to go and things to see. We set off in the car in the direction of The Lot. I was reading the map which is always a recipe for a Victoria sponge or a disaster. I was slightly thrown by a closed road, which meant we ended up in Villeneuve-sur-Lot which hadn’t been my original intention I must admit. Covering my embarrassment with a tea-cosy I navigated us toward Fumel on to repeat the tour undertaken some months ago with K&I(not the King & I). It was remarkably cold I remember remarking, but the brilliant sunshine was incredible, and the whole of the countryside was dramatically lit. We ate a picnic lunch in the snow watched by a black labrador and a beagle. Les Arques was like a building site – clearly a huge injection of capital there to do the place up for the tourist season. Fortunately all was not lost as the Zadkine Museum was open and extraordinarily good. Made a mental note to find out a bit more about this amazing sculptor.

From there we journeyed home through snow showers and breathtaking scenery, with the most spectacular, dramatic skies I can ever remember seeing.

Moiselle has arrived! We called in at L’Enfance de Lard primarily to pay our respects to the new lady of the house (Moiselle is a three month old black Scotty) and secondly to slurp aperitifs. She is the cutest thing, as puppies tend to be.

We cooked the duck with all the fare from the market, and washed it down with wine from William Boyd's very own vineyard.

This made me laugh until chips came down my nose: M&D have this new mobile phone, and as I think I mentioned before, they keep getting mystery text messages. Here are the two which tickled me:

Don’t panic but I’m in hospital, think I’ve poisoned myself. Used a daffodil bulb in a cheese sandwich instead of an onion. Don’t worry, I’ll be out in the spring.

Hey bud it’s Ash – r u coming out 2nite? I’m gonna get off me nut. Txt bk lv Ash.

This left dad more than a little confused. Someone who’s related to me, lives in Winchester and has bright ideas for Christmas presents has a helluva lot to answer for. I’ll say no more on the subject. We played a game of Who Wants To Be A Millionaire. Dad fell asleep so we played for him, and he won. That can’t be right can it?