40.

End October.

I have been in grey Manchester; family affairs. The sounds there were of sirens and incessant traffic. How can the atmosphere take all this? Well, it can't, can it? I don't notice any diminishing car useage.

On the top of an old mill, on an appartment verandah, a little dunnock visited everyday for my leavings of cake crumbs and cheese. Strange, as it`s normally a lurking kind of bird, low down in the shrubbery. There it was several levels above the canals and city! I felt starved of greenery, of autumn leaves, of light. The people were more than friendly, I have to add, nevertheless.

Now I`m back in France, with the remaining, brilliant leaf colours surviving the high winds and rain that the last few days have suffered. It is 14deg. today but feels warmer in the bits of sunshine. I`ve picked every apple and they lie in layers, in card boxes under the stairs, where I can inspect them every so often for signs of rotting. Same thing for the potatoes, only they are in sacks in the barn, raised on bricks to protect them, hopefully, from rats.

The day of la Tousssaint passed with a fair and a village meal in the Halle, when my feet nearly froze off. About 40 people sat at the trestle tables and ate and drank as merrily as they always do. I managed to avoid the servings of meat without much fuss. A brazier was lit in the Halle centre but it is time for the thermals and layers of socks, I think. The clothing of Bertrand and Emile seem to remain the same although Marie was wearing a purple anorak which looked wonderfully new.