It's a birthday Jim, but not as we know it

Max has another birthday, and typically for any birthday child, he is difficult to control. This is not a birthday in the strict sense, but more a coming of age in that he is starting to discover females. Last week at training, he became obsessed with two female dogs and this week he was very interested in another, even though the owner said that she was not en chaleur. The walking to heel training is very difficult in that if he is anywhere near a female, he pulls off in that direction. (A bit like his master really - Ed.)

***

Kevin and family arrived today, which is lucky because tonight is 'La Traditionelle Saucisse', one of the very entertaining evenings of the annual summer festivities. We, eleven of us in total, all wandered down to the foyer at 8 o'clock, and joined the 150 or so other villagers, armed with sufficient glasses, plates, cutlery and nibbles. By nibbles I mean slices of pizza, sausage rolls and crisps because everyone starts to drink at 8 and, because they are usually so disorganised, no food arrives until at least 10. In the meantime, the drinkers amongst us have had sufficient wine to last several meals, so something to soak up the poison is a very good idea. Anyway, it all went to plan with predictable results. We drank rosé like it was going out of fashion, and at 10.15 somebody threw some bread, a small bowl of very tasty couscous and a jug of red wine on the table and a little later someone came round with a couple of thin sausages. That was all the food I saw but Jan said that there was also a bit of cheese and some melon. Hardly a 12 euros meal, but what the hell, it was great fun. Later still, someone opened a five litre plastic bidon containing home made cartagene. Cartagene is a combination of approximately a quarter of a litre of alcohol (which can be home made) mixed with a litre of grape juice. Recipes are guarded jealously and it is not unusual for several people to offer their produce, each trying to outdo the other. That was the end of me. I'm ashamed to admit that when I stood to leave, my legs gave way and they needed a block and tackle to get me up again.