Sausages

It's la fête des grand mères in France today and as I don't have one I bought food for lunch and then left the ball in the girls' court.  Leila was more procactive and roasted the chicken while Mu, Bernie and I did  a cheeky Plancoulon walk and wound up at Polfages just as the sun slid over the yardarm.  
Jasmine was standing on a milking stool, her hair in two plaits down her back, shoving seasoned sausage meat into the machine while her da twisted them into their skins. 
The chicken was good and supper's sorted.