Tuesday, January 24, 2006
Tuesday 17 – Friday 20 January 2006
I am writing this from the new computer in the new house! N has managed to set it all up, bless him; it will be a while before I can get it onto the internet and Blog, but it's a start.
It's been a very eventful week. We arrived here again last Monday 9th in the hired van; N went to fetch it at 8.30 in the morning and managed to get it into the front gate of Les Ursulines despite rush hour traffic and an ambulance collecting one of our neighbours. After loading all the pieces of the bedroom suite from the cellar and my clothes and numerous other boxes and N's garden tools from the apartment, we set off at about 11, N by this time having decided he quite liked driving vans. I enjoyed it too; the view was much better than from the car. (I kept feeling that at some stage I should break in to a chorus of My Old Man Said Follow the Van, but couldn't quite find the right moment…)
We unloaded all the items into the garage and after lunch set about dusting down the pieces of bed and bedside tables ready to assemble them for the night. (The tables hadn't been taken apart, but were still very dusty.) I treated them all with a marvellous product called Popote, which cleaned, got rid of mould and dust and stained all in one go, and N painted the metal spring base with anti-rust treatment. Once set up in the bedroom it all looked very good and just fitted in along the wall, with the tables either side. This is a bed by instalments, as we have not yet got a suitable mattress - although has now been ordered and paid for and will take 2 or 3 weeks to arrive as it's unusually wide. So currently we have the Ainsworth Street mattress on the frame, with about six inches of ledge each side. I have got all the bedding apart from the quilt, but it is all waiting for the mattress to arrive, and meanwhile we are sleeping under Ainsworth Street sheets and blankets; very cosy.
N left on Tuesday afternoon to take the van back to Paris, and came back by car on Friday afternoon. The first thing I did was to finish empting the five or six boxes of china taking up space in the dining room; all packed so well back in September that it took ages. I had discovered by this time that the dishwasher was working well, so was able to put the dustier items in, and since then have happily got back into the rhythm of having a dishwasher; it will be a surprise once I get back to Saint-Denis! It was lovely to see familiar pieces and one or two things I had completely forgotten about, and to arrange them all on the dresser again, and in a useful corner cupboard. The dining room seemed so much bigger once the boxes had gone, and I quickly fetched another cupboard from the salon.
Being here on my own would have been better with a television, I think. I was exhausted after all this unpacking but the only highlight of my evening was dinner listening to the 6 o’clock news on Radio 4 (at 7 o’clock) followed by half an hour of comedy; all this once I had discovered my small transistor radio one of the boxes of china. We had brought my radio/tape/CD player from Paris but have disappointingly failed to get any known radio station without hissing. After much trying, we have decided Radio Classique is unobtainable here; I have settled for that in Paris and France Musique in Normandy. (N says it is known as Radio Blah Blah because of more talking than music, but I find it an acceptable alternative to BBC Radio 3.)
Anyway, that first night on my own I was suddenly woken by a fierce thud, and lay there with my eyes tight shut trying to work out what it could be. When I opened them I saw that the left-hand shutter had blown open against the wall, and decided to leave it like that as even in the dark I can see the outline of the huge fir tree outside, higher than the house. The shutters and bedroom French windows (onto the balcony) are in a rather fragile state, so it is better to have them like this - one permanently open and the other permanently shut, to avoid moving them about too much.
The next day - Wednesday - I was expecting Monsieur A and his electrician at 1.30, so decided the priority for the morning was to go to the hairdresser. This proved very successful; I think the proprietress is well placed to observe all that goes on in the village (see blog entry for September) from her vantage point on the square, and both she and the younger woman who did my hair were very interested in why I had come to live in La Neuve-Lyre, and the fact that I had lived in France before, and anything else they could find out about me. I was very pleased with the cut, and especially enjoyed the shampooing - literally washing away the cobwebs - and felt much better afterwards. It cost more than in Saint-Denis, but on studying the bill found I had been charged 7 euros for mousse, which I think I could dispense with next time.
Nobody turned up at 1.30; so I rang at about 4 and M. A said they would come the next day at 8.30. I continued emptying as many boxes as I could in the kitchen and study, and went to bed early (after the same exciting evening) so as to be up washed, breakfasted and dressed by 8.30 the next morning, when it was still pitch black and opened the garage doors by torch light.
When he came, M. A said that they would see to the dangerous switches and sockets first, and at my request check the washing machine, but that the heating would be tomorrow. The electrician was called Emmanuel and did his job well, going off a couple of times to fetch things, and said we would meet again when he came back to do the rest. I was amazed at my increasing ability to discuss matters electrical in French.
Once he had left I realised with joy that I could use the washing machine but had no clothes horse on which to dry anything, so set off for the Quincaillerie not sure what I was asking for, but at least sure that it was not a cheval à vêtements. I managed to buy, carry home and assemble a very large clothes airer, having decided that it would be necessary for drying sheets in winter. The next day when I washed curtains that had been in store I used the washing line, in the garden between two trees, and added another of my own, feeling sure that there must be some Girl Guide knots I had once learned that would have been just the job had I not forgotten them.
On Friday morning I expected M. A and his heating & plumbing technician at the crack of dawn and when no-one turned up rang and was told I had mal compris and he would be in touch once he had the new timer. We have since compiled and sent him a letter drafting the other things that still need doing. I revisited the fruit & veg man on the market to stock up for the weekend, and got some very good home-made jam (made by Madame, he said) reines claudes – greengages – which I think the WI would have given 10 out of 10 for taste and 0 out of 10 for presentation, in a sort of old pickle jar with a scruffy label on the lid, but really good to eat. Needs decanting, I think. I have since been again and complimented Madame, and bought some more. I also went to the newspaper shop for the first time and got another house magazine; War and Peace wasn't always very relaxing, especially the parts about military strategy.
I had fully intended to ask Marie-Antoinette round while I was on my own, but I always seemed to be waiting for someone to arrive, and every time I met her in the street she said not to bother and I must be very busy, but I am sure she must be intrigued. At least the dining room is the most complete and very cosy; only waiting for curtains and some plates to be mounted on one wall.
It was quite fun expecting N in time for dinner, quite like old times! It was very sunny on Friday afternoon, and I cleaned several windows and unpacked CDs and listened to a few echoing thought the half-empty salon and it began to feel like my house. I had got rid of boxes everywhere except the study and grande pièce, and the place looked a little more civilised. The other thing I wanted to finish was the assembling of my IKEA computer desk, but got stuck at a point where two pairs of hands were needed, so we finished it together on Friday evening. When N arrived he brought a combination microwave and oven with him, like the one at Saint-Denis, to keep us going until the real oven is fitted. It seems complicated and we haven't had a great deal of time to study the instructions, but I have managed to grill the cheese and breadcrumbed top of some endives au gratin, and we have heated a potato dish from the traiteur.
On Saturday morning we set off for Bernay, about 20 kilometres to the North, for a variety of things which I was quite sure would not all get done that day. In the event we ended up going several times during the week, and got to know the journey well; almost deserted winding country lanes, a few scattered villages, alternating woods and open fields containing a few wet cows and the odd muddy sheep and horse.
By the time we arrived in Bernay on Saturday it was lunch time and the shops were closed, so we had crèpes and cider again in the little restaurant where we had eaten in September. While searching for the France Telecom shop we found a larger and more interesting part of the town, including a DIY store called Monsieur Bricolage that we have since visited several times, (where I saw my clothes airer at a much higher price!) and a little street full of antique shops (one interestingly named "Passé Simple") where we enjoyed browsing but did not buy anything.
One of the main reasons for going to Bernay was to see Lapeyre, the kitchen and bathroom fitting store that we had explored at Clichy before Christmas. In all it took four visits over the course of a week to sort this out; the first time it was closed for lunch, the second too crowded, the third I enquired and was told one must make an appointment and come back with measurements and details; and the fourth time I actually made it, and it took over an hour and a half. I had always been quite sure I wanted the ground floor bathroom re-done; it is currently a very shabby loo with basin and bidet and needs to be made into a shower room for guests. The kitchen I had recently decided need re-fitting after much thought and discussion with N; at first I had felt perhaps it might be OK with the cupboard doors repainted and a few repaired, but eventually decided I'd better get it done while I had the money and the energy, and now am very excited about it and looking forward to it.
I had spent all the morning measuring and making detailed scale plans -and wishing I had O level technical drawing – and also typed and printed out some details and ideas on my new computer and took along some of the "before" photos we had taken when we visited in October.
My consultant was called Nicolas and looked about fifteen but certainly knew his stuff, and planned it all out on the computer using my information: floor plans, 3D images and detailed costs and estimates. The kitchen was the simpler of the two, as everything will be more or less in the same place as now; I will keep the dishwasher, gas hob and sink, and my own washer/drier that I've just brought, but have ordered a new built-in oven and a (stainless steel!) fridge. The cupboard doors and drawer fronts will be light wood, with stainless steel handles, which will I hope go well with the white walls and work tops, grey floor tiles and the little red wall tiles on the sink wall. Red curtains are planned too, possibly red and white check.
The bathroom took longer as it took ages to find a way of fitting loo, basin and shower (no room for small bath, as I'd hoped) into such a tiny space, taking into account door, window and radiator, elbow room at the basin, and as N so quaintly put it, room to pull one's trousers up. A layout was finally found however, including a small shower cubicle and a nice square basin (with a drawer!) suspended on the wall. All this however depends on the visit of the "artisan" who will come to the house and check everything, including whether or not I can keep the sink and hob. The final estimate for the bathroom was over 3000 euros and for the kitchen over 4000; N seemed to think these were very reasonable, and I kept feeling that they wouldn't sound so bad in pounds. I have since accepted the estimates with a deposit cheque, and await further developments.
A lot of Sunday afternoon we spent in assembling the large Italian wardrobe in our bedroom. Fortunately there was a lot of space to do so, but no instructions whatsoever - it had been taken to pieces by the removal/storage company five years ago – so there was a lot of guesswork involved, and it was very heavy, solid pine. The most difficult part was trying to hang one of the three doors; over and over again we tried and each time any two hinges would slide into place, but never the third. After going away to have some tea (always a good ploy) and liberally applying oil to the hinges, it at last worked. We then had to get it into place and fortunately found that it just fitted in the chosen alcove, barely clearing the wall lights which will have to be removed in any case, and just clearing a sort of proscenium arch on the ceiling. The three doors are not hanging correctly however; we think several pieces have warped while in the cellar and have not fitted together with right angles. But it looks very impressive. Unfortunately it doesn't have any clothes hanging in it yet, as the rails need (buying and) replacing.
Tuesday was a very busy day when a great variety of different things happened. We were up early as on Monday afternoon we had found a leak in the cistern in our bathroom, and each time it flushed it kept on filling and spraying water over the wall and floor. We knew Mr A was busy, so N had contacted another plumber from our list, a Monsieur L, who came as promised just after 8 on Tuesday morning, with what looked like his brother. They sorted the problem quickly and effectively; N said he wished he could find plumbers like that at Saint-Denis. We had the impression they were carpenters too, so N asked them about the broken bed frame (from Ainsworth Street) and they recommended a colleague; a Monsieur P, out on the road to Rugles, indicated by a red sign. We were about to set off for Bernay (again) in the opposite direction, and it was still before 9 o'clock, so put the two broken pieces in the back of the car and went off in the direction of Rugles, looking for the red sign. Noting happened for several kilometres, and we were just about to give up and go back when we saw it, and went down several little lanes across fields, following several more red signs until we eventually arrived at a large workshop.
Monsieur P made me think of a jovial woodwork master, with twinkling eyes over his spectacles; said it should be no problem to make an equivalent bed piece, and handed me a giant pencil to write my name, address & phone number all along the broken piece. He said he would be in touch when it was ready, and N asked it he could give us an estimate for repairing shutters, to which he gladly agreed. His workshop was full of excellent works in progress, and as we left we were thinking of lots of other things we could ask him to do for us.
That day in Bernay we managed to get the modem for the PC from the France Telecom shop, and asked them to set up the connection, which we hadn't realised was needed before. (It was the same with voicemail on the phone; as N says, nobody tells you these things – it wouldn't work until France Telecom had been phoned – much waiting on the line – and finally set it up.) Also a visit to a shop called Casa, which I knew from its branch near the Gare St Lazare; N bought three large cushions for his study up in the attic, and I bought two doormats. At Monsieur Bricolage we found gilt curtain poles and ends for the two windows in the salon, and various products for getting rid of moss in the garden, a particular problem in Normandy, it seems.
We were home in time for lunch, after which N checked his phone messages at Saint-Denis and found one from the Italian agent saying that an offer had been made for the apartment in Soliera! He called and confirmed details, and more progress has since been made; the final signature will probably be at the beginning of March, but there will be a preliminary one – as with the purchase at La Neuve-Lyre - when N goes to pack up and see off the Italian furniture to be transported by the firm Traslochi Lunigiana, which has now been confirmed for 7 February. My rôle in all this is to stay at La Neuve-Lyre and welcome Traslochi and all the furniture, in Italian. As you might imagine, all this gave us great food for thought, but it has turned out well that the sale comes just as we are transporting furniture, as we can bring back more than we might have done. It also means I won't have to buy a new large quilt for our bed, as we can use the one that was there, which originally went with the bed.
The final event of Tuesday was my first yoga class. When last in Saint-Denis I had sent an e-mail to the address I had found at the boulangerie for classes at La Vieille Lyre, about a kilometre away. N picked up the reply when he came back and read it to me over the phone; the classes were now somewhere different. So I phoned, and as I had suspected the teacher was English and called Christine; she said the classes could well go back to La Vieille Lyre eventually, but meanwhile she would find someone to give me a lift. Naturally she asked whether I had done yoga before, and we had a chat about exercise in general. I then received a call from someone called Jacqueline who said she would pick me up outside my house at 7.10 on Tuesday, and to wear "un jogging" and bring a blanket to lie on.
In the event both she and her husband (Jean-Christophe) came and it turned out that they formed half the class; apart from Christine there were only two other women, which explains why she was so keen for me to join! The class was in an infant school in a village miles way, down the road to Rugles; it seemed light years since I had gone down the road that morning looking for the carpenter. Christine – as J-C had said – was 'gentille comme tout", the first thing she said to me after we had introduced ourselves in English, was "I want your coat!" my long brown waxed one; I said it was very practical for Normandy weather.
The class was an interesting experience; not only the first one I had ever done in French, which wasn't really a problem apart from a few obscure terms which took a second or two to work out, and which Christine sometimes whispered to me in English, but it was the first time I have done a class with no music and my eyes shut all the while. It was not warm either; I am used to pleasantly heated dance studios, not chilly schools and must wear more clothes next time. Some of the movements reminded me of Pilates, but most were completely different and I felt well stretched, if cold. Christine said they were a sort of little family; I was "tu" straight away and at the end she kissed me on both cheeks along with everybody else. I explained that I wouldn't be available next Tuesday (back in Paris) and J-C & J said they would phone before picking me up the week after. Nothing said about fees; but think I will go for the à la carte option; set rate for any 15 classes.
Towards the end of the week, after the plans for the new bathroom, N set about renovating its ceiling, which had been left with bare beams after some previous attempts at restoration. This involved brushing down the beams and treating them with a foul-smelling anti-woodworm product; my part in it was cleaning all the mess which fell down over everything twice, and washing his shirt immediately; as he says, it will certainly never be attacked by woodworm. He also got rid of all the flaking paint in the kitchen, ready for repainting it white and I swept all that up too. His other main activity (apart from several bonfires in the garden) has been the ongoing removal of nasty lino very firmly stuck to tiles on the back hall floor; involving soaking in acetone and much scraping, which has given him blisters and a cough. He has also given a final off-white coat of paint to the newly-repaired panelling in the salon, which looks very good indeed. A cleaner and more pleasant event was the hanging of the first curtains at the French windows in the salon; even though they are not level – nothing in the house is – the difference is amazing.
His room up in the larger of the two attics, under the beams, is now beginning to look a little more inhabited. He ordered a large radio to be delivered to the house and we took the Ainsworth Street single divan bed up from the floor below to form a sort of day bed, with the afore-mentioned cushions and a brown furry bedspread which had been in various lofts of mine for years, originally bought in Paris in 1974. (I have since taken it to be cleaned; there are no dry cleaners in the village, but the paper shop takes items in and sends them off.)
The other useful discovery at the end of the week on one of our final trips to Bernay was a large garden centre called Vive le Jardin! full of very useful things and a very friendly black cat N wanted to bring home, and also a lovely clean spacious well stocked branch of the supermarket Intermarché, quite the best one we have seen in Normandy.
The last activity I finished on Friday morning, before we set off back to Paris in the afternoon, was the first coat of red paint on a nice sturdy little wooden stool I found in one of the outhouses, which I have already been using to stand and sit on in the kitchen, in the hope that it will be really dry ready for the second coat next week when we get back.
I am writing this from the new computer in the new house! N has managed to set it all up, bless him; it will be a while before I can get it onto the internet and Blog, but it's a start.
It's been a very eventful week. We arrived here again last Monday 9th in the hired van; N went to fetch it at 8.30 in the morning and managed to get it into the front gate of Les Ursulines despite rush hour traffic and an ambulance collecting one of our neighbours. After loading all the pieces of the bedroom suite from the cellar and my clothes and numerous other boxes and N's garden tools from the apartment, we set off at about 11, N by this time having decided he quite liked driving vans. I enjoyed it too; the view was much better than from the car. (I kept feeling that at some stage I should break in to a chorus of My Old Man Said Follow the Van, but couldn't quite find the right moment…)
We unloaded all the items into the garage and after lunch set about dusting down the pieces of bed and bedside tables ready to assemble them for the night. (The tables hadn't been taken apart, but were still very dusty.) I treated them all with a marvellous product called Popote, which cleaned, got rid of mould and dust and stained all in one go, and N painted the metal spring base with anti-rust treatment. Once set up in the bedroom it all looked very good and just fitted in along the wall, with the tables either side. This is a bed by instalments, as we have not yet got a suitable mattress - although has now been ordered and paid for and will take 2 or 3 weeks to arrive as it's unusually wide. So currently we have the Ainsworth Street mattress on the frame, with about six inches of ledge each side. I have got all the bedding apart from the quilt, but it is all waiting for the mattress to arrive, and meanwhile we are sleeping under Ainsworth Street sheets and blankets; very cosy.
N left on Tuesday afternoon to take the van back to Paris, and came back by car on Friday afternoon. The first thing I did was to finish empting the five or six boxes of china taking up space in the dining room; all packed so well back in September that it took ages. I had discovered by this time that the dishwasher was working well, so was able to put the dustier items in, and since then have happily got back into the rhythm of having a dishwasher; it will be a surprise once I get back to Saint-Denis! It was lovely to see familiar pieces and one or two things I had completely forgotten about, and to arrange them all on the dresser again, and in a useful corner cupboard. The dining room seemed so much bigger once the boxes had gone, and I quickly fetched another cupboard from the salon.
Being here on my own would have been better with a television, I think. I was exhausted after all this unpacking but the only highlight of my evening was dinner listening to the 6 o’clock news on Radio 4 (at 7 o’clock) followed by half an hour of comedy; all this once I had discovered my small transistor radio one of the boxes of china. We had brought my radio/tape/CD player from Paris but have disappointingly failed to get any known radio station without hissing. After much trying, we have decided Radio Classique is unobtainable here; I have settled for that in Paris and France Musique in Normandy. (N says it is known as Radio Blah Blah because of more talking than music, but I find it an acceptable alternative to BBC Radio 3.)
Anyway, that first night on my own I was suddenly woken by a fierce thud, and lay there with my eyes tight shut trying to work out what it could be. When I opened them I saw that the left-hand shutter had blown open against the wall, and decided to leave it like that as even in the dark I can see the outline of the huge fir tree outside, higher than the house. The shutters and bedroom French windows (onto the balcony) are in a rather fragile state, so it is better to have them like this - one permanently open and the other permanently shut, to avoid moving them about too much.
The next day - Wednesday - I was expecting Monsieur A and his electrician at 1.30, so decided the priority for the morning was to go to the hairdresser. This proved very successful; I think the proprietress is well placed to observe all that goes on in the village (see blog entry for September) from her vantage point on the square, and both she and the younger woman who did my hair were very interested in why I had come to live in La Neuve-Lyre, and the fact that I had lived in France before, and anything else they could find out about me. I was very pleased with the cut, and especially enjoyed the shampooing - literally washing away the cobwebs - and felt much better afterwards. It cost more than in Saint-Denis, but on studying the bill found I had been charged 7 euros for mousse, which I think I could dispense with next time.
Nobody turned up at 1.30; so I rang at about 4 and M. A said they would come the next day at 8.30. I continued emptying as many boxes as I could in the kitchen and study, and went to bed early (after the same exciting evening) so as to be up washed, breakfasted and dressed by 8.30 the next morning, when it was still pitch black and opened the garage doors by torch light.
When he came, M. A said that they would see to the dangerous switches and sockets first, and at my request check the washing machine, but that the heating would be tomorrow. The electrician was called Emmanuel and did his job well, going off a couple of times to fetch things, and said we would meet again when he came back to do the rest. I was amazed at my increasing ability to discuss matters electrical in French.
Once he had left I realised with joy that I could use the washing machine but had no clothes horse on which to dry anything, so set off for the Quincaillerie not sure what I was asking for, but at least sure that it was not a cheval à vêtements. I managed to buy, carry home and assemble a very large clothes airer, having decided that it would be necessary for drying sheets in winter. The next day when I washed curtains that had been in store I used the washing line, in the garden between two trees, and added another of my own, feeling sure that there must be some Girl Guide knots I had once learned that would have been just the job had I not forgotten them.
On Friday morning I expected M. A and his heating & plumbing technician at the crack of dawn and when no-one turned up rang and was told I had mal compris and he would be in touch once he had the new timer. We have since compiled and sent him a letter drafting the other things that still need doing. I revisited the fruit & veg man on the market to stock up for the weekend, and got some very good home-made jam (made by Madame, he said) reines claudes – greengages – which I think the WI would have given 10 out of 10 for taste and 0 out of 10 for presentation, in a sort of old pickle jar with a scruffy label on the lid, but really good to eat. Needs decanting, I think. I have since been again and complimented Madame, and bought some more. I also went to the newspaper shop for the first time and got another house magazine; War and Peace wasn't always very relaxing, especially the parts about military strategy.
I had fully intended to ask Marie-Antoinette round while I was on my own, but I always seemed to be waiting for someone to arrive, and every time I met her in the street she said not to bother and I must be very busy, but I am sure she must be intrigued. At least the dining room is the most complete and very cosy; only waiting for curtains and some plates to be mounted on one wall.
It was quite fun expecting N in time for dinner, quite like old times! It was very sunny on Friday afternoon, and I cleaned several windows and unpacked CDs and listened to a few echoing thought the half-empty salon and it began to feel like my house. I had got rid of boxes everywhere except the study and grande pièce, and the place looked a little more civilised. The other thing I wanted to finish was the assembling of my IKEA computer desk, but got stuck at a point where two pairs of hands were needed, so we finished it together on Friday evening. When N arrived he brought a combination microwave and oven with him, like the one at Saint-Denis, to keep us going until the real oven is fitted. It seems complicated and we haven't had a great deal of time to study the instructions, but I have managed to grill the cheese and breadcrumbed top of some endives au gratin, and we have heated a potato dish from the traiteur.
On Saturday morning we set off for Bernay, about 20 kilometres to the North, for a variety of things which I was quite sure would not all get done that day. In the event we ended up going several times during the week, and got to know the journey well; almost deserted winding country lanes, a few scattered villages, alternating woods and open fields containing a few wet cows and the odd muddy sheep and horse.
By the time we arrived in Bernay on Saturday it was lunch time and the shops were closed, so we had crèpes and cider again in the little restaurant where we had eaten in September. While searching for the France Telecom shop we found a larger and more interesting part of the town, including a DIY store called Monsieur Bricolage that we have since visited several times, (where I saw my clothes airer at a much higher price!) and a little street full of antique shops (one interestingly named "Passé Simple") where we enjoyed browsing but did not buy anything.
One of the main reasons for going to Bernay was to see Lapeyre, the kitchen and bathroom fitting store that we had explored at Clichy before Christmas. In all it took four visits over the course of a week to sort this out; the first time it was closed for lunch, the second too crowded, the third I enquired and was told one must make an appointment and come back with measurements and details; and the fourth time I actually made it, and it took over an hour and a half. I had always been quite sure I wanted the ground floor bathroom re-done; it is currently a very shabby loo with basin and bidet and needs to be made into a shower room for guests. The kitchen I had recently decided need re-fitting after much thought and discussion with N; at first I had felt perhaps it might be OK with the cupboard doors repainted and a few repaired, but eventually decided I'd better get it done while I had the money and the energy, and now am very excited about it and looking forward to it.
I had spent all the morning measuring and making detailed scale plans -and wishing I had O level technical drawing – and also typed and printed out some details and ideas on my new computer and took along some of the "before" photos we had taken when we visited in October.
My consultant was called Nicolas and looked about fifteen but certainly knew his stuff, and planned it all out on the computer using my information: floor plans, 3D images and detailed costs and estimates. The kitchen was the simpler of the two, as everything will be more or less in the same place as now; I will keep the dishwasher, gas hob and sink, and my own washer/drier that I've just brought, but have ordered a new built-in oven and a (stainless steel!) fridge. The cupboard doors and drawer fronts will be light wood, with stainless steel handles, which will I hope go well with the white walls and work tops, grey floor tiles and the little red wall tiles on the sink wall. Red curtains are planned too, possibly red and white check.
The bathroom took longer as it took ages to find a way of fitting loo, basin and shower (no room for small bath, as I'd hoped) into such a tiny space, taking into account door, window and radiator, elbow room at the basin, and as N so quaintly put it, room to pull one's trousers up. A layout was finally found however, including a small shower cubicle and a nice square basin (with a drawer!) suspended on the wall. All this however depends on the visit of the "artisan" who will come to the house and check everything, including whether or not I can keep the sink and hob. The final estimate for the bathroom was over 3000 euros and for the kitchen over 4000; N seemed to think these were very reasonable, and I kept feeling that they wouldn't sound so bad in pounds. I have since accepted the estimates with a deposit cheque, and await further developments.
A lot of Sunday afternoon we spent in assembling the large Italian wardrobe in our bedroom. Fortunately there was a lot of space to do so, but no instructions whatsoever - it had been taken to pieces by the removal/storage company five years ago – so there was a lot of guesswork involved, and it was very heavy, solid pine. The most difficult part was trying to hang one of the three doors; over and over again we tried and each time any two hinges would slide into place, but never the third. After going away to have some tea (always a good ploy) and liberally applying oil to the hinges, it at last worked. We then had to get it into place and fortunately found that it just fitted in the chosen alcove, barely clearing the wall lights which will have to be removed in any case, and just clearing a sort of proscenium arch on the ceiling. The three doors are not hanging correctly however; we think several pieces have warped while in the cellar and have not fitted together with right angles. But it looks very impressive. Unfortunately it doesn't have any clothes hanging in it yet, as the rails need (buying and) replacing.
Tuesday was a very busy day when a great variety of different things happened. We were up early as on Monday afternoon we had found a leak in the cistern in our bathroom, and each time it flushed it kept on filling and spraying water over the wall and floor. We knew Mr A was busy, so N had contacted another plumber from our list, a Monsieur L, who came as promised just after 8 on Tuesday morning, with what looked like his brother. They sorted the problem quickly and effectively; N said he wished he could find plumbers like that at Saint-Denis. We had the impression they were carpenters too, so N asked them about the broken bed frame (from Ainsworth Street) and they recommended a colleague; a Monsieur P, out on the road to Rugles, indicated by a red sign. We were about to set off for Bernay (again) in the opposite direction, and it was still before 9 o'clock, so put the two broken pieces in the back of the car and went off in the direction of Rugles, looking for the red sign. Noting happened for several kilometres, and we were just about to give up and go back when we saw it, and went down several little lanes across fields, following several more red signs until we eventually arrived at a large workshop.
Monsieur P made me think of a jovial woodwork master, with twinkling eyes over his spectacles; said it should be no problem to make an equivalent bed piece, and handed me a giant pencil to write my name, address & phone number all along the broken piece. He said he would be in touch when it was ready, and N asked it he could give us an estimate for repairing shutters, to which he gladly agreed. His workshop was full of excellent works in progress, and as we left we were thinking of lots of other things we could ask him to do for us.
That day in Bernay we managed to get the modem for the PC from the France Telecom shop, and asked them to set up the connection, which we hadn't realised was needed before. (It was the same with voicemail on the phone; as N says, nobody tells you these things – it wouldn't work until France Telecom had been phoned – much waiting on the line – and finally set it up.) Also a visit to a shop called Casa, which I knew from its branch near the Gare St Lazare; N bought three large cushions for his study up in the attic, and I bought two doormats. At Monsieur Bricolage we found gilt curtain poles and ends for the two windows in the salon, and various products for getting rid of moss in the garden, a particular problem in Normandy, it seems.
We were home in time for lunch, after which N checked his phone messages at Saint-Denis and found one from the Italian agent saying that an offer had been made for the apartment in Soliera! He called and confirmed details, and more progress has since been made; the final signature will probably be at the beginning of March, but there will be a preliminary one – as with the purchase at La Neuve-Lyre - when N goes to pack up and see off the Italian furniture to be transported by the firm Traslochi Lunigiana, which has now been confirmed for 7 February. My rôle in all this is to stay at La Neuve-Lyre and welcome Traslochi and all the furniture, in Italian. As you might imagine, all this gave us great food for thought, but it has turned out well that the sale comes just as we are transporting furniture, as we can bring back more than we might have done. It also means I won't have to buy a new large quilt for our bed, as we can use the one that was there, which originally went with the bed.
The final event of Tuesday was my first yoga class. When last in Saint-Denis I had sent an e-mail to the address I had found at the boulangerie for classes at La Vieille Lyre, about a kilometre away. N picked up the reply when he came back and read it to me over the phone; the classes were now somewhere different. So I phoned, and as I had suspected the teacher was English and called Christine; she said the classes could well go back to La Vieille Lyre eventually, but meanwhile she would find someone to give me a lift. Naturally she asked whether I had done yoga before, and we had a chat about exercise in general. I then received a call from someone called Jacqueline who said she would pick me up outside my house at 7.10 on Tuesday, and to wear "un jogging" and bring a blanket to lie on.
In the event both she and her husband (Jean-Christophe) came and it turned out that they formed half the class; apart from Christine there were only two other women, which explains why she was so keen for me to join! The class was in an infant school in a village miles way, down the road to Rugles; it seemed light years since I had gone down the road that morning looking for the carpenter. Christine – as J-C had said – was 'gentille comme tout", the first thing she said to me after we had introduced ourselves in English, was "I want your coat!" my long brown waxed one; I said it was very practical for Normandy weather.
The class was an interesting experience; not only the first one I had ever done in French, which wasn't really a problem apart from a few obscure terms which took a second or two to work out, and which Christine sometimes whispered to me in English, but it was the first time I have done a class with no music and my eyes shut all the while. It was not warm either; I am used to pleasantly heated dance studios, not chilly schools and must wear more clothes next time. Some of the movements reminded me of Pilates, but most were completely different and I felt well stretched, if cold. Christine said they were a sort of little family; I was "tu" straight away and at the end she kissed me on both cheeks along with everybody else. I explained that I wouldn't be available next Tuesday (back in Paris) and J-C & J said they would phone before picking me up the week after. Nothing said about fees; but think I will go for the à la carte option; set rate for any 15 classes.
Towards the end of the week, after the plans for the new bathroom, N set about renovating its ceiling, which had been left with bare beams after some previous attempts at restoration. This involved brushing down the beams and treating them with a foul-smelling anti-woodworm product; my part in it was cleaning all the mess which fell down over everything twice, and washing his shirt immediately; as he says, it will certainly never be attacked by woodworm. He also got rid of all the flaking paint in the kitchen, ready for repainting it white and I swept all that up too. His other main activity (apart from several bonfires in the garden) has been the ongoing removal of nasty lino very firmly stuck to tiles on the back hall floor; involving soaking in acetone and much scraping, which has given him blisters and a cough. He has also given a final off-white coat of paint to the newly-repaired panelling in the salon, which looks very good indeed. A cleaner and more pleasant event was the hanging of the first curtains at the French windows in the salon; even though they are not level – nothing in the house is – the difference is amazing.
His room up in the larger of the two attics, under the beams, is now beginning to look a little more inhabited. He ordered a large radio to be delivered to the house and we took the Ainsworth Street single divan bed up from the floor below to form a sort of day bed, with the afore-mentioned cushions and a brown furry bedspread which had been in various lofts of mine for years, originally bought in Paris in 1974. (I have since taken it to be cleaned; there are no dry cleaners in the village, but the paper shop takes items in and sends them off.)
The other useful discovery at the end of the week on one of our final trips to Bernay was a large garden centre called Vive le Jardin! full of very useful things and a very friendly black cat N wanted to bring home, and also a lovely clean spacious well stocked branch of the supermarket Intermarché, quite the best one we have seen in Normandy.
The last activity I finished on Friday morning, before we set off back to Paris in the afternoon, was the first coat of red paint on a nice sturdy little wooden stool I found in one of the outhouses, which I have already been using to stand and sit on in the kitchen, in the hope that it will be really dry ready for the second coat next week when we get back.
# posted by Chez Katherine @ 12:02 PM 
