The late, great

Marcel. This is how he looks today, a shadow of his former heroic self. It's very sad to see how little there is of him left. The windows all melted and are laying across the remaining springs of the seats. A Kilner jar containing dog treats has melted completely flat. Our best Bahco pruning shears are down to the raw steel and there is a small river of melted aluminium running off down the hill. Strangely the ancient yellow headlight bulbs remain intact. The rear number plate has melted completely and a rake and fork have lost their handles.

Thank you so much for all your kind comments yesterday. We're still shocked, but grateful to be in one piece.

On a lighter note, our lovely team of eight volunteers pitched up for a week's work today and we began this afternoon by finishing off the pruning and strimming all the top Syrah, the unidentified whites and a chunk of Cinsault. We teased them on with a morning at the delightful oddness of the Roujan foire. We're on dinner duty this evening and preparations are all done, so now we can have a lovely evening with our pals. They come every year at this time, stay in the house with us, and we have a very jolly time working in the vineyard. By the time they leave it's all spic, span and shipshape. Now how kind is that?