Blistering cold in Rignac, but as long as I press rolled towels at the bottom of the door to keep out draughts and the woodstove chock-a-block, the barn is pretty toasty.
Ventured out for an art exhibition on the causse.
But now am home, fat and sleepy and bearsnug under the quilts. Cats on the pillows and dogs on my feet. We're staying hidden until spring.