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| sort of what we do here really |
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| the road to the eco-pissoir |
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| all mod con. Anyone recognise the table? |
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| what meditators come up with after a bit of brain storming |
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| the font septique - 45 cubic metres of pooh |
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| and the enormous truck that delivered it |
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| early morning visitor |
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| The wasps have left me a present. |
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| wild cyclamen. Bonnevaux is filled with them. |
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| and the last of the lime tree, felled by the tornado |
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| My legs. Andrew`s foot. The floor. |
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| My `umble abode after dark |
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| One of Mr B`s productions. #106 in a series. |
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| In the summerhouse I built and papered for Pol |
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| Bertie and I enjoying the sun. |
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| a wheelbarrow full of colourful vegetables. Trouble is, they all taste the same. |
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| At the Old Vic for a couple of weeks and then goes on tour. Featuring my youngest brother and late sister. |
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Say anything you like. I do.