Sunday, January 08, 2006
Sunday January 1 2006
I think we must have done something to offend the god of bathroom lights. After the failure with the fluorescent tube at La Neuve-Lyre, two of the three little bulbs at the top of the bathroom unit here at Saint-Denis unaccountably went dead earlier in the week, and it took N a good deal of time and two visits to BHV (where it was originally bought) plus another to Castorama to manage to fit new bulbs and get them working again.
I went with him the first of these visits on Friday afternoon, by train in very cold snowy weather. The snow was blowing horizontally into our faces as we waited on the platform, and we imagined that in central Paris it would be drier but no, even the pavements of the Rue de Rivoli were covered in wet slush, and N nearly slipped several times – I was glad I was wearing my snow boots with non-slip soles. Apart from the bathroom department we also looked at curtain poles and fittings, all very expensive, and at a bedding sale, as I wanted to find plain white pillowcases to go with the sets I'd got from IKEA. Also very expensive; I thought not for the first time that BHV is a very expensive shop. By the time we got back the snow had become very small pieces of hail which stung our faces, and we were very glad to dry out and sit on the sofa with tea and cake and watch another of N's Christmas present DVDs – Lord Peter Wimsey in Strong Poison. We have also watched a DVD of Holst's The Planets, complete with various pieces of film and graphics, and parts of BBC's Coast.
Between now and Christmas we have re-watched Porterhouse Blue in several sessions too; N's college is in the process of electing a new master and at one time he was receiving post to do with the election nearly every day, so when I caught sight of the video (which I gave him several years ago) on a shelf, thought we should watch it again in tribute, as it were. This has resulted in some new catchphrases; N often replies to questions with: "I wouldn't know about that, sir" and I would like to adopt "Exemplum habemus!" if only I could remember it when relevant.
Since Friday the weather has improved considerably – from 2 degrees to 8 – and we are continuing to enjoy relaxing here until next Wednesday when we set off for Normandy as early as we can, and start working hard there again. We did very little in the way of New Year celebrations; staying in as restaurant prices rise sharply for 31 December, and there were forecasts of riots like those in November. In the event we went to bed early and celebrated today by watching the New Year's Day concert from Vienna on television with a glass of sparkling white wine in hand, followed by a festive lunch. In the afternoon we watched a video of Cabaret, which I hadn't seen since it first came out in 1972, at the Arts in Cambridge.
Monday 2 January 2006
This morning we went down to the cellar again to dust and clean all the pieces of furniture to go in the van next Monday – two wardrobes, two bedside tables and a double bed. It doesn't sound very much but there are an awful lot of pieces! It also involved dropping down a flex from the first floor so that we could attach a lamp to see what we were doing.
N received a phone call from a string-playing colleague with an invitation for next Saturday – including me – as it will involve a sort of party and food as well as the music; at the moment we don't know exactly where apart from north of Paris, and we have to take a quiche. (N is practising the Schubert quintet in readiness as we write) A nice prospect though, especially as we will have come back from La Neuve-Lyre ready to load the van; it will be a good break and change of scene. When I asked whether this quintet was the Trout, N said cryptically that this was the Schubert Quintet and that the other was the Trout Quintet. It reminded me of a programme I once heard on Radio 3, taking this nomenclature to extremes asking whether a piano trio should be played with three pianos, the Trout Quintet by five trout and the Archduke Trio by three Archdukes. But I digress……
I have taken down all the Christmas cards and what few decorations there were; my little tree from Madeleine and its accessories and the few free decorations from Yves Rocher have all gone in a large shoe box ready for Christmas decorations on a much grander scale next year, I hope.
Tuesday 3 January 2006
Yesterday evening after the news we found ourselves watching the film Lawrence of Arabia which suddenly came on after the news. Neither of us had seen it before and it was so gripping that we had to keep on watching it till well after midnight. Today I am packing ready for an early start to La Neuve-Lyre tomorrow, and am glad that the weather is much better than this time last week; in some parts of Normandy no lorries were allowed on the roads!
Saturday 7 January 2006
I have now moved into my house in La Neuve-Lyre, and yet another stage in this long process has been completed, although it is far from over.
We made good time on Wednesday morning, and arrived just after 10 in light rain; no sign of Abels van – although we had told them we probably wouldn’t get there till 10.45 - only to discover that the water had been cut off. I went straight over the road to see my new neighbour, who eventually answered the door in her dressing gown, to ask for the name and phone number of the water company. She efficiently found it on a bill in her desk, and seemed ready to chat; I discovered her name was Marie-Antoinette (royalist parents?) that she had been recently widowed and had two grown-up daughter and 5 year old twin granddaughters. I said I would invite her round soon, as there were lots of things I wanted to ask about (buses, shops, hairdresser etc) and managed to tear myself away just as the van pulled up outside. I directed it round the back, went in to tell N this and about the water, then phoned while he ushered in the removal men. The man at the water company took all my details, and then said politely that he wouldn't be able to get the water turned on that day, as it didn't count as an emergency, but as the setting up of a new contract! but ought to be on again between 8 and 9 the next day. N went to get shopping which included lots of bottled water; I took the removal men Neil and Richard on a tour of the house, and they set to work bringing things through the garage and up the garden. It was very strange seeing things that were so familiar that I hadn't seen for so long, in this new setting; especially some I had complete forgotten about. Meanwhile, N got on with plastering the panels in the salon, occasionally calling out to me to direct some furniture. I began unpacking a few boxes, when it wasn't clear where they should go. At one stage it was raining hard, and the furniture came in covered in blankets, and the back hall floor got very wet.
It was all finished just after 1.00, and we all sat down on chairs and the sofa which had just arrived and had tea and coffee (with bottled water) and pains à chocolat thoughtfully bought by N. I searched hard in the boxes for two extra mugs; in the end found two tea cups. Before leaving they kindly stuck back the foot of the dining room table which had fallen off, and helped lift a very heavy table left by Mme V from the garage to the studio, and replaced the washing machine she had left with mine, although as there was no water this could not be properly checked.
When they had gone we had lunch: baguette, salads and pâté bought by N from the traiteur. Apart from just wandering round looking at everything, my main priority was finding bedding and making up a bed (or rather mattress) for the night. I also would have liked to clean the bathroom, difficult with no water, but made some attempt at the washbasin.
We continued clearing and emptying and moving boxes, and trying to lessen the chaos until it seemed to be time to stop for dinner. There were three choices; eat the rest of the cold things left over from lunch, or go and get a tin of soup to have with them, or go out and find something to eat in a bar. N said he hadn't got where he was today by going out into bars, and anyway we were all dirty, so I went and got a tin of lobster soup, and a bottle of local cider. (We have an excellent gas hob; no oven as Mme V took it with her; we plan to get a combination microwave oven; but not yet) I found a saucepan but no soup plates; we only had flat plates that we had brought with us, so had to eat soup from a small casserole. I kept thinking of the advert which used to precede Coronation Street, where the newly moved-in couple drink tea from a bowl and a vase; believe me, it happens. During the evening both daughters rang to see how things were going, very comforting and showed that the new number and the old green phone were working. More trouble trying to find mugs after dinner; in the end I found some Peter Rabbit mugs which were rather small. As there was no water no washing up could be done, in theory no problem as there was a plentiful supply of crockery if only I could have found what I was looking for in all the boxes!
We got ready for bed, with water from the kettle for washing and from a bottle for cleaning teeth. The bedding was certainly not damp but very cold, and N was still busy trying to sort out the heating system and somehow managed to turn it off, so at one stage in the middle of the night we were absolutely freezing; the temperature was certainly well below freezing outside. We woke early; N got the heating going again and made tea and coffee in some breakfast cups I had conveniently found the night before.
I hoped if I put off getting up long enough the water would be back on again, but no, washed etc as previous night and ate croissants N had bought the day before. The water man arrived at about 10.15; the tap was on the pavement but he rang the bell and explained what he was doing and showed N the meter and tap to turn off if necessary. It was wonderful to be able to wash hands in hot water, not to mention finally flushing both loos.
We went out to the Quincaillerie, N with the broken timer from the heating system, which they were unable to help with, but I managed to buy two plugs for the sink; there was by now a mountain of washing up and plenty of hot water, all I need was to be able to keep it in the sink! They gave us the name of someone for the heating, and we decided to try the radio & TV shop further down to see if they could help with any electrical work.
The shop seemed dowdy, abandoned and quite deserted and after we had called out and waited a few minutes a woman appeared; she said they were no longer able to do any electrical work any and was unable to answer most of N's questions, going off several times to ask her ill husband next door. In the end N said could she just let us have a few plugs (our adaptors were very temperamental) even that was not simple; she said she only knew the price in francs, and had to go and ask her husband the price in euros.
We got salad and bread for lunch as before, and decided we really had to find an electrician that afternoon, so looked up in the phone book the name we had been given, and set off for La Vieille-Lyre and eventually found the man in a huge hangar of a place, with posters claiming to carry out electrical work, plumbing, carpentry, heating, shutters and much more. We were lucky to find Monsieur A in his office, and he said he would come with us straight away to have a look round the house and give us an estimate.
He came all round the house and outbuildings with us and made notes; agreed the most urgent things were the plugs and switches hanging off the walls, but also agreed to check everything and make it safe, get a new timer for the heating system, tidy up all extraneous trailing wires and eventually to get all the lighting in the outbuildings working again. He looked at the bathroom strip light and said the unit itself needed replacing, and at my request said he would check the washing machine. When he had gone we both felt we had found a very useful person indeed! I will ring on Monday afternoon to arrange a time for him (or his minions) to start on Tuesday. All this had taken a good part of the afternoon when we could have been doing other things, but we both agreed it was an important thing to have achieved. We bought pesto and spaghetti for dinner; fortunately I had just unpacked the sieve for draining it. We found a different kind of cider – much more local, the same postcode as ours! I had managed to clean the bath and used it, and we slept much better, as the house was warmer.
On Friday we only had until 3 in the afternoon as we wanted to avoid the weekend rush hour traffic back into Paris. The first thing I did was to unpack and set up my new phone, as I wanted to be able to receive messages while we were away and called Caroline to get her to phone back to test the tone, and to leave a message over the weekend. N was ready to paint the panelling, so I put masking tape all round, (our usual double act) then set off further than before, as far as the post office, very small and friendly. When I came out I saw a fruit & veg stall in the market place, and the lady at the traiteur said it was there on Fridays and the full market on Mondays. N finished the painting, which looked very good, and managed to have a bonfire in the vegetable garden, and I finally got the IKEA kitchen table assembled, with its full complement of legs. There was a lot of screwdrivering involved and I had blisters on my hand to prove it, but am very pleased with it and its position under the window, and with all the kitchen boxes I unpacked to make room for it. I was especially glad to see my steamer again and other favourite utensils, and didn’t really want to leave as felt I was just beginning to make some headway!
It was good to be back in Saint-Denis again though, and in a proper bed, and to wear clean clothes to go out on Saturday afternoon to the musical gathering we had been invited to, which was in a village called Lilliviers, about 30 minutes back down the road we had taken on Friday. Apart from the music, the house was very interesting to look at – I feel I can look at French country houses with a different eye now! – very comfortable and full of beams, lamps, furniture, pictures and a large fireplace. Our hostess reminded me of a latter-day Madame Verdurin (apologies to non Proust experts) excitedly calling on various guests to perform, singing solos herself, wearing a skirt which appeared to be made from a carpet, and possessing a mild non-musical husband ("Voici mon mari, qui ne joue rien") who kept the champagne and food going admirably.
There were piano solos, duets, the afore-mentioned singing, a tenor, then string trios, a clarinet and N's famous Schubert quintet - not a great success due to the weakness of the second violin - about a dozen performers in all, and all items alternated with more excellent food and drink. There were also several other non playing members of the "audience", and I was pleased to find I recognised most of the pieces, and just enjoyed sinking in to a sofa and listening to all that was going on. N was asked to play a trio (piano, violin & viola) which he didn't know, but which turned out very well – three songs by Glinka - no-one else seemed to have heard of them either, but all agreed they were very fine. It was after this that our hostess asked me for our names & address, so that she could invite us again in future; apparently they meet four times a year. N was especially taken with the playing of a cellist with a nice non-playing wife, and a lady violinist. So perhaps there may be more opportunities soon. I felt it was the sort of event we could enjoy hosting at La Neuve-Lyre; N agreed but said it was too far from Paris and that guests would have to be accommodated for the night.
I think we must have done something to offend the god of bathroom lights. After the failure with the fluorescent tube at La Neuve-Lyre, two of the three little bulbs at the top of the bathroom unit here at Saint-Denis unaccountably went dead earlier in the week, and it took N a good deal of time and two visits to BHV (where it was originally bought) plus another to Castorama to manage to fit new bulbs and get them working again.
I went with him the first of these visits on Friday afternoon, by train in very cold snowy weather. The snow was blowing horizontally into our faces as we waited on the platform, and we imagined that in central Paris it would be drier but no, even the pavements of the Rue de Rivoli were covered in wet slush, and N nearly slipped several times – I was glad I was wearing my snow boots with non-slip soles. Apart from the bathroom department we also looked at curtain poles and fittings, all very expensive, and at a bedding sale, as I wanted to find plain white pillowcases to go with the sets I'd got from IKEA. Also very expensive; I thought not for the first time that BHV is a very expensive shop. By the time we got back the snow had become very small pieces of hail which stung our faces, and we were very glad to dry out and sit on the sofa with tea and cake and watch another of N's Christmas present DVDs – Lord Peter Wimsey in Strong Poison. We have also watched a DVD of Holst's The Planets, complete with various pieces of film and graphics, and parts of BBC's Coast.
Between now and Christmas we have re-watched Porterhouse Blue in several sessions too; N's college is in the process of electing a new master and at one time he was receiving post to do with the election nearly every day, so when I caught sight of the video (which I gave him several years ago) on a shelf, thought we should watch it again in tribute, as it were. This has resulted in some new catchphrases; N often replies to questions with: "I wouldn't know about that, sir" and I would like to adopt "Exemplum habemus!" if only I could remember it when relevant.
Since Friday the weather has improved considerably – from 2 degrees to 8 – and we are continuing to enjoy relaxing here until next Wednesday when we set off for Normandy as early as we can, and start working hard there again. We did very little in the way of New Year celebrations; staying in as restaurant prices rise sharply for 31 December, and there were forecasts of riots like those in November. In the event we went to bed early and celebrated today by watching the New Year's Day concert from Vienna on television with a glass of sparkling white wine in hand, followed by a festive lunch. In the afternoon we watched a video of Cabaret, which I hadn't seen since it first came out in 1972, at the Arts in Cambridge.
Monday 2 January 2006
This morning we went down to the cellar again to dust and clean all the pieces of furniture to go in the van next Monday – two wardrobes, two bedside tables and a double bed. It doesn't sound very much but there are an awful lot of pieces! It also involved dropping down a flex from the first floor so that we could attach a lamp to see what we were doing.
N received a phone call from a string-playing colleague with an invitation for next Saturday – including me – as it will involve a sort of party and food as well as the music; at the moment we don't know exactly where apart from north of Paris, and we have to take a quiche. (N is practising the Schubert quintet in readiness as we write) A nice prospect though, especially as we will have come back from La Neuve-Lyre ready to load the van; it will be a good break and change of scene. When I asked whether this quintet was the Trout, N said cryptically that this was the Schubert Quintet and that the other was the Trout Quintet. It reminded me of a programme I once heard on Radio 3, taking this nomenclature to extremes asking whether a piano trio should be played with three pianos, the Trout Quintet by five trout and the Archduke Trio by three Archdukes. But I digress……
I have taken down all the Christmas cards and what few decorations there were; my little tree from Madeleine and its accessories and the few free decorations from Yves Rocher have all gone in a large shoe box ready for Christmas decorations on a much grander scale next year, I hope.
Tuesday 3 January 2006
Yesterday evening after the news we found ourselves watching the film Lawrence of Arabia which suddenly came on after the news. Neither of us had seen it before and it was so gripping that we had to keep on watching it till well after midnight. Today I am packing ready for an early start to La Neuve-Lyre tomorrow, and am glad that the weather is much better than this time last week; in some parts of Normandy no lorries were allowed on the roads!
Saturday 7 January 2006
I have now moved into my house in La Neuve-Lyre, and yet another stage in this long process has been completed, although it is far from over.
We made good time on Wednesday morning, and arrived just after 10 in light rain; no sign of Abels van – although we had told them we probably wouldn’t get there till 10.45 - only to discover that the water had been cut off. I went straight over the road to see my new neighbour, who eventually answered the door in her dressing gown, to ask for the name and phone number of the water company. She efficiently found it on a bill in her desk, and seemed ready to chat; I discovered her name was Marie-Antoinette (royalist parents?) that she had been recently widowed and had two grown-up daughter and 5 year old twin granddaughters. I said I would invite her round soon, as there were lots of things I wanted to ask about (buses, shops, hairdresser etc) and managed to tear myself away just as the van pulled up outside. I directed it round the back, went in to tell N this and about the water, then phoned while he ushered in the removal men. The man at the water company took all my details, and then said politely that he wouldn't be able to get the water turned on that day, as it didn't count as an emergency, but as the setting up of a new contract! but ought to be on again between 8 and 9 the next day. N went to get shopping which included lots of bottled water; I took the removal men Neil and Richard on a tour of the house, and they set to work bringing things through the garage and up the garden. It was very strange seeing things that were so familiar that I hadn't seen for so long, in this new setting; especially some I had complete forgotten about. Meanwhile, N got on with plastering the panels in the salon, occasionally calling out to me to direct some furniture. I began unpacking a few boxes, when it wasn't clear where they should go. At one stage it was raining hard, and the furniture came in covered in blankets, and the back hall floor got very wet.
It was all finished just after 1.00, and we all sat down on chairs and the sofa which had just arrived and had tea and coffee (with bottled water) and pains à chocolat thoughtfully bought by N. I searched hard in the boxes for two extra mugs; in the end found two tea cups. Before leaving they kindly stuck back the foot of the dining room table which had fallen off, and helped lift a very heavy table left by Mme V from the garage to the studio, and replaced the washing machine she had left with mine, although as there was no water this could not be properly checked.
When they had gone we had lunch: baguette, salads and pâté bought by N from the traiteur. Apart from just wandering round looking at everything, my main priority was finding bedding and making up a bed (or rather mattress) for the night. I also would have liked to clean the bathroom, difficult with no water, but made some attempt at the washbasin.
We continued clearing and emptying and moving boxes, and trying to lessen the chaos until it seemed to be time to stop for dinner. There were three choices; eat the rest of the cold things left over from lunch, or go and get a tin of soup to have with them, or go out and find something to eat in a bar. N said he hadn't got where he was today by going out into bars, and anyway we were all dirty, so I went and got a tin of lobster soup, and a bottle of local cider. (We have an excellent gas hob; no oven as Mme V took it with her; we plan to get a combination microwave oven; but not yet) I found a saucepan but no soup plates; we only had flat plates that we had brought with us, so had to eat soup from a small casserole. I kept thinking of the advert which used to precede Coronation Street, where the newly moved-in couple drink tea from a bowl and a vase; believe me, it happens. During the evening both daughters rang to see how things were going, very comforting and showed that the new number and the old green phone were working. More trouble trying to find mugs after dinner; in the end I found some Peter Rabbit mugs which were rather small. As there was no water no washing up could be done, in theory no problem as there was a plentiful supply of crockery if only I could have found what I was looking for in all the boxes!
We got ready for bed, with water from the kettle for washing and from a bottle for cleaning teeth. The bedding was certainly not damp but very cold, and N was still busy trying to sort out the heating system and somehow managed to turn it off, so at one stage in the middle of the night we were absolutely freezing; the temperature was certainly well below freezing outside. We woke early; N got the heating going again and made tea and coffee in some breakfast cups I had conveniently found the night before.
I hoped if I put off getting up long enough the water would be back on again, but no, washed etc as previous night and ate croissants N had bought the day before. The water man arrived at about 10.15; the tap was on the pavement but he rang the bell and explained what he was doing and showed N the meter and tap to turn off if necessary. It was wonderful to be able to wash hands in hot water, not to mention finally flushing both loos.
We went out to the Quincaillerie, N with the broken timer from the heating system, which they were unable to help with, but I managed to buy two plugs for the sink; there was by now a mountain of washing up and plenty of hot water, all I need was to be able to keep it in the sink! They gave us the name of someone for the heating, and we decided to try the radio & TV shop further down to see if they could help with any electrical work.
The shop seemed dowdy, abandoned and quite deserted and after we had called out and waited a few minutes a woman appeared; she said they were no longer able to do any electrical work any and was unable to answer most of N's questions, going off several times to ask her ill husband next door. In the end N said could she just let us have a few plugs (our adaptors were very temperamental) even that was not simple; she said she only knew the price in francs, and had to go and ask her husband the price in euros.
We got salad and bread for lunch as before, and decided we really had to find an electrician that afternoon, so looked up in the phone book the name we had been given, and set off for La Vieille-Lyre and eventually found the man in a huge hangar of a place, with posters claiming to carry out electrical work, plumbing, carpentry, heating, shutters and much more. We were lucky to find Monsieur A in his office, and he said he would come with us straight away to have a look round the house and give us an estimate.
He came all round the house and outbuildings with us and made notes; agreed the most urgent things were the plugs and switches hanging off the walls, but also agreed to check everything and make it safe, get a new timer for the heating system, tidy up all extraneous trailing wires and eventually to get all the lighting in the outbuildings working again. He looked at the bathroom strip light and said the unit itself needed replacing, and at my request said he would check the washing machine. When he had gone we both felt we had found a very useful person indeed! I will ring on Monday afternoon to arrange a time for him (or his minions) to start on Tuesday. All this had taken a good part of the afternoon when we could have been doing other things, but we both agreed it was an important thing to have achieved. We bought pesto and spaghetti for dinner; fortunately I had just unpacked the sieve for draining it. We found a different kind of cider – much more local, the same postcode as ours! I had managed to clean the bath and used it, and we slept much better, as the house was warmer.
On Friday we only had until 3 in the afternoon as we wanted to avoid the weekend rush hour traffic back into Paris. The first thing I did was to unpack and set up my new phone, as I wanted to be able to receive messages while we were away and called Caroline to get her to phone back to test the tone, and to leave a message over the weekend. N was ready to paint the panelling, so I put masking tape all round, (our usual double act) then set off further than before, as far as the post office, very small and friendly. When I came out I saw a fruit & veg stall in the market place, and the lady at the traiteur said it was there on Fridays and the full market on Mondays. N finished the painting, which looked very good, and managed to have a bonfire in the vegetable garden, and I finally got the IKEA kitchen table assembled, with its full complement of legs. There was a lot of screwdrivering involved and I had blisters on my hand to prove it, but am very pleased with it and its position under the window, and with all the kitchen boxes I unpacked to make room for it. I was especially glad to see my steamer again and other favourite utensils, and didn’t really want to leave as felt I was just beginning to make some headway!
It was good to be back in Saint-Denis again though, and in a proper bed, and to wear clean clothes to go out on Saturday afternoon to the musical gathering we had been invited to, which was in a village called Lilliviers, about 30 minutes back down the road we had taken on Friday. Apart from the music, the house was very interesting to look at – I feel I can look at French country houses with a different eye now! – very comfortable and full of beams, lamps, furniture, pictures and a large fireplace. Our hostess reminded me of a latter-day Madame Verdurin (apologies to non Proust experts) excitedly calling on various guests to perform, singing solos herself, wearing a skirt which appeared to be made from a carpet, and possessing a mild non-musical husband ("Voici mon mari, qui ne joue rien") who kept the champagne and food going admirably.
There were piano solos, duets, the afore-mentioned singing, a tenor, then string trios, a clarinet and N's famous Schubert quintet - not a great success due to the weakness of the second violin - about a dozen performers in all, and all items alternated with more excellent food and drink. There were also several other non playing members of the "audience", and I was pleased to find I recognised most of the pieces, and just enjoyed sinking in to a sofa and listening to all that was going on. N was asked to play a trio (piano, violin & viola) which he didn't know, but which turned out very well – three songs by Glinka - no-one else seemed to have heard of them either, but all agreed they were very fine. It was after this that our hostess asked me for our names & address, so that she could invite us again in future; apparently they meet four times a year. N was especially taken with the playing of a cellist with a nice non-playing wife, and a lady violinist. So perhaps there may be more opportunities soon. I felt it was the sort of event we could enjoy hosting at La Neuve-Lyre; N agreed but said it was too far from Paris and that guests would have to be accommodated for the night.
# posted by Chez Katherine @ 12:50 PM 
