Monday, February 13, 2006
Saturday 4 February 2006
This morning in bed I finished reading War and Peace. I started reading it in May, after we had seen the opera by Prokoviev last winter, and thought now that I had an idea of the plot, it would be a good time to read the book. I found the appendices at the end rather tedious; I think his point had already been made. It means that I have been able to get back to La Porte Etroite, by Gide, before I forgot too much of what was going on there.
Yesterday afternoon the TV aerial man, Monsieur B, came to fix the aerial, check the TV point in N’s study, set up the satellite dish and bring TPS, (Télévision par Satellite) a system requested by N whereby we can watch a whole variety of foreign channels. Monsieur B was very dour to start with, but warmed up as he went on - not literally unfortunately, as he spent a lot of time in the garden fixing the dish (and scratching his forehead on some brambles) and drilling a long hole through the wall to the grande pièce where the TV is situated. He said these walls were particularly thick, and he had to use his larger drill. TPS comes in the form of a box the size of a small video recorder, and sits on top of the other one. He demonstrated some of the channels, of which there are many with names like God TV, Sensual TV and Black Music TV (and Al-Jazeera!) but also the more familiar Italian and German ones and BBC World and BBC Prime Time, plus all the usual French channels, and he said that English people usually ask him to install Sky TV. After I had written two substantial cheques, one for his time and the other as a deposit for TPS - for which there is a monthly subscription payable by N as this is all his idea - he left and I hoovered up the mess from the drilling and the opening of the window on to the street - I don’t think it had been opened for years and was full of cobwebs and dirt from the big lorries that go past. I then went down to the paper shop and got a TV magazine, so I can make sure I don’t miss anything.
So after dinner last night for the first time I was able to watch TV news here, the only snag being that the grande pièce is very cold; there are two radiators of which only one is working (waiting for Monsieur A to come back) and two outside walls. I ended up on the sofa with a blanket round me.
Today I have been on the bus to L’Aigle. We had only visited it once before, to go to an estate agent in September, when it was raining hard and we were taken by the agent to visit a house in the middle of nowhere. But I had memories of a town square and interesting little shops, and it was the best choice time-wise, as buses are not that frequent to anywhere. The journey took about half an hour; I left at 10.19 and got the bus back at 12.35, getting home just after 1.00. It is a very cold grey day today (not made much better by the fact that N has just phoned from Italy where he says it is warm with brilliant sunshine) and I kept feeling that the journey would be totally different in the spring or summer. However, it was interesting, and I could see a lot of the countryside and villages from the bus, which crossed the border to get to L’Aigle - out of our home department of Eure and into Orne. There was only one other passenger, both going and coming back and the driver was listening to Radio Nostalgie, which was quite entertaining.
L’Aigle was bigger than I remembered, with large blocks of flats in the outskirts, and the road from the station - where the bus stopped - led to the agency we had visited, so I knew where I was. My main aim was to buy curtain material for the study, and curtain tape for the dining room curtains, but first I came across lots of other little shops including several shoe shops, which I must return to another time. I found an inexpensive furnishing shop where I bought tape and hooks, and hesitated over some very cheap ready-made voile curtains and asked where I could find a curtain material shop. I was directed to a shop on the main square, « but it’s expensive », she said. It was!
I had a good look round while the proprietress was busy with someone else, taking orders for curtains. The tiny shop was filled with all sorts of fabrics: dress and furnishing fabrics, patchwork, braid, trimmings and samples. I was attracted to some red and yellow material with tulips on; the study has an unusual colour scheme of golden yellow walls and red & grey flecked carpet. It was expensive and there wasn’t much of it left, but she said she ordered most her stock; when I said I rather wanted to buy something I could take back today she said she was happy to deliver it; she delivered to most of her clients, and asked where I lived. « But La Neuve-Lyre isn’t the end of the world! » she said, which I happily kept repeating to myself on the bus on the way home. The material costs far more than I had intended, but will look so much better than the cheap voile I had seen in the other shop; what I really needed was something in between, like the toile de jouy in Montmartre. (Perhaps I need to get all remaining curtain material in Montmartre?) I finally decided that if I added together the prices of this and the really cheap IKEA material for the grande pièce, and divided by the number of windows, then I would feel better about it! She promises to deliver within 10 days, either herself or her husband; I rather hope it’s him, as I’m not sure what she would think of the curtains I have up so far. I think my tastes are a lot simpler.
By the time I got home I was very cold indeed, and took some time to warm up. My shopping time in L’Aigle went quickly, but was quite long enough in these temperatures (3 degrees according to a sign in the main shopping street). I see from the bus timetable that I could also have come back at 4.30 in the afternoon; perhaps another time I’ll try that and have lunch too. I am sure N will liken this to the heroine of Brief Encounter, although unfortunately I don’t think there is a cinema in L’Aigle, although several buildings which look as though they could have been cinemas once.
Sunday 5 February 2006
It’s amazing just how much you can get done when you’re on your own! Apart from writing letters and catching up with my Internet bank, I have finished and hung the dining room curtains, and by the end was quite fed up with the peasants represented on the toile de jouy pattern. There are two couples, one industriously watering and harvesting vegetables while the other two are just sitting around on a well ignoring their animals and playing a pipe. If I were the first couple, I should be very annoyed with them.
One of the (many) things I enjoy about this house is that I can play CDs or the radio very loudly without disturbing anybody. The stereo radio is now set up in the salon, tuned to France Musique, and echoes through the rather empty tiled room, which is waiting for a three piece suite from Italy. Sometimes when I come into the room I feel as though we should be hosting a ball; when I said this to Monsieur P while we were sipping our tea he said he felt sure I must be a dancer; I didn’t like to disillusion him.
I have also watched television, although both last night and this lunchtime it took a while to get it going; but I think this is probably me and the two remote controls rather than the aerial. Yesterday evening I watched part of a tribute to Charles Trenet, which I don’t think he would have thought much of, and today after the lunchtime news saw the news in Italian. If I keep doing this until Wednesday, it will be good practice for dealing with the removal men from Traslochi. Tomorrow will be the last day I can sit around in bed in the morning drinking tea and reading Gide, as on Tuesday Monsieur A is due at 8.15, and on Wednesday Traslochi at 7.30. (I have finished La Porte Etroite - un livre étroite aussi - and have now started on Les Caves du Vatican, all in the same volume.)
The only time I have been out today was to get bread just before lunch; Sunday is always the busiest day at the boulangerie, today the queue went right out onto the pavement. As I stood waiting I thought of years ago when I began to learn French and shops in England were never open on Sundays, and we were told that it was an important French ritual to come out of Mass and buy cakes to take home, usually packaged in a pyramid of paper with a ribbon, and it seemed quite unbelievable! Well, I can assure you now that it’s quite normal.
Tuesday 7 February 2006
N phoned twice during the day yesterday, the first time as early as 11.30 to say that everything was packed up at Soliera and that the van was already on its way, and would probably arrive in La Neuve -Lyre today rather than Wednesday. He said - amongst other things - that the two ornate beds would now have one large new mattress instead of two old thin ones (i.e. only ever a double bed rather than the possibility of two singles) and that there were some fresh raviolini coming with the kitchen things! He later phoned in the evening to say he had signed the preliminary sale papers for the apartment, and was in a hotel in Chambéry (driving back to Paris rather than taking the train.)
By Monday afternoon I had caught up so well with everything that I had run out of things to do, and wished the Italian things would arrive, as I know once they do there will be a lot to sort out, or that the curtain material for the study would be delivered. I did some phone chasing however; firstly Sturno, the company responsible for putting in extra phone points to whom I had sent a cheque and acceptance four weeks ago; they said there had been a bit of a delay, and they would let me know soon when they could come; I asked whether it would be a few days or a few weeks and they said days. I also phoned Lapeyre the kitchen and bathroom people with the same sort of request; they maintained they hadn’t got my phone number! which seemed strange, and were waiting for me to contact them. They then said once they had spoken to the artisan they would call back that afternoon. Nothing happened so I called again this morning; unable to contact the artisan. I would like to get these two visits decided as soon as possible; as N will not now be driving straight on here from Paris because of the repair to the car, I could well be going to Paris on the train, and will soon have to decide when.
Anyway, I ended up spending a lot of yesterday afternoon and evening sorting out photographs. There was a collection from Ainsworth Street, which I had decided when packing up should all be put in a new album I’d been given; an album devoted entirely to Ainsworth Street, i.e. no holidays, graduations or visits. I completed this and was very pleased with it, and even printed it a nice cover with my resourceful new computer. I then turned to a huge old suitcase full of all sorts of photographs; albums, loose pictures and all sorts, which had been packed up when moving out of the house in Montague Road in 1998, and had been lying undisturbed in the loft at Ainsworth Street ever since.
It was strange going back in time, and looking at my former life I wondered more than once how it came to be that I was now the owner of a wonderful house in Normandy, but the strangest thing was seeing photos of pieces of furniture, lamps and pictures, many of which are still here with me now.
This morning I got up early in time to let in Emanuel the electrician at about 8.15, together with an assistant who appears to be doing some kind of work experience. They are here now working hard, I’m pleased to say; we went through the house again and agreed what needs doing in order of priority; he says Monsieur A will come this afternoon re the heating. (I haven’t told them some Italians could arrive with large pieces of furniture at any moment; will not complicate things until I have to! N says he has asked them to ring first)
Anyway straight away they fixed the central light here in the study, and the wall point so that the computer can be plugged in by the door, and I have been able to get rid of the cabling and extension leads all over the floor. « On est rapide, nous », he said when I was amazed at the speed at which this was done. They are now working simultaneously on the extra points in the kitchen, and on the ground floor bathroom, which as usual seems to be causing complications.
Saturday 11 February 2006
In the end Tuesday turned out to be an extremely busy and eventful day. Emanuel and his assistant went off for lunch at about 12.30, and while they were gone I had a phone call from Sturno saying the telephone point installation team were at Verneuil and could they come along to me in about half an hour? I laughed and said I already had two electricians in the house (not to mention the threat of Traslochi) and said yes, of course they could come. The electricians came back - Monsieur A was held up and now wouldn’t be coming - and in all fixed the new wall light in the downstairs bathroom and put another light in the centre of the ceiling and a point on the wall; put shades on the bulbs hanging off the wall on the staircase, and finally got the neon light in the upstairs bathroom working. The two chaps from Sturno arrived; they were young and extremely business-like; and it was so long since we asked for these extra points that I’d had to consult my notes to find out where they were required, but showed them where - a point for the phone in the back hall on the ground floor so we could stop having the phone in the dining room; and a new point in N’s study in the attic so he can have a computer there. In each case they had to take a lead from an existing point; from the dining room round three doorways and through the wall at skirting board level, and upstairs along the ceiling from the point in our bedroom and through the ceiling over the stairwell up to the attic floor and along the beams. They’d just worked out how they were going to do this - obviously seeing it all as a great challenge - when there was a ring at the front gate bell, and there was the man from Traslochi - I could tell because it said so on his overall - and he hadn’t phoned in advance, and I had to start speaking to him in Italian.
We went through the garden and garage and there was the van at the back with the two others in the team; they turned it round and started to bring things in. They’d been well briefed by N re the things which need to go in the outbuildings but I wasn’t sure how they wanted to do the rest. (Rather haphazardly, as it seemed) They fixed up a lift from the side garden to the balcony outside the bedroom, plugged in an electric point just inside the French windows and all the heavy stuff for upstairs came up there. I was so sorry I didn’t have a film in the camera, as this was an amazing sight; they started by tying ropes round the larger branches of the huge fir tree, to keep them out of the way, rather like game wardens holding down a large animal. The pieces of the dining room suite came in the side door between the grande pièce and dining room, which I’d never seen open before. I tried to keep up with where they were and what they were doing, but every so often would be needed by someone else, and from time to time would come across the chaps from Sturno still drilling away, and tried to avoid the ground floor bathroom where the electricians were. More than once I was very glad that this house has two staircases and several outside doors so that when one way was blocked by a ladder I could choose an alternative route.
I tried to speak to them all every so often and let them feel I hadn’t forgotten them, rather like different groups of children who all need to feel equally important, but occasionally and inevitably spoke to someone in the wrong language. At one stage I passed through the kitchen and saw two carrier bags full of food, just as if someone had left shopping there; on closer inspection this was the leftovers promised by N - including the raviolini! - and other fresh produce, and store cupboard things, all smelling (in a Proust like way) just like they used to in the Italian kitchen. N had given them strict instructions to hand these over to la Signora, so as I hadn’t been in the kitchen at that moment they had left them. Later on I saw what appeared to be pair of trousers just taken off and left on the ironing board; this turned out to be - together with some of N’s summer shirts - the contents of the small wardrobe they were bringing; the clothes had travelled on their hangers.
At some time in the afternoon N phoned to say he had arrived back safely in Paris; I laughed when I heard his voice on the phone and told him he could not possibly imagine what was going on here. He said to pass saluti on to the Traslochi men from il Signore. The best thing he said however, and I told him this, was that he would come the next day; apart from looking forward to seeing him again I so wanted him to see all the Italian things in position, not to mention all that I and the electricians had done since he was last here, and I did not want to leave here and have to go back to Paris. The other call during the afternoon was from Lapeyre, to say would it be OK if the artisan came the following day at 5.00? I was very pleased and said yes; not only were things happening quickly, but it meant that my all phone chasing on Monday had come to fruition in two days.
I was glad when the two from Sturno finally left, as that gave me fewer people to keep an eye on; but they had worked so speedily and efficiently I felt they hadn’t been sufficiently appreciated. The electricians were here until 5.30; and kindly hoovered up around the bathroom; when I said I was sorry the place had been so crowded Emanuel said they often worked on sites where there were several different teams at once.
This just left the three from Traslochi, and it was getting dark. The biggest stuff came in last, the two huge glass-topped sideboards for the grande pièce - one came in though the window - and two big chests of drawers for the bedrooms, plus four bedside cupboards and the high ornate frames of the two metal beds (and its huge mattress) which just fitted in between the wall lights - there wouldn‘t have been room as two single beds. There was no central light in the main bedroom, and the bed had been pushed aside to get the largest items in; all the carpets were full of mud and pine needles from the branches of the great tree. Several times I apologetically asked if they could move things just a fraction one way or another; they kept saying, no, no I must ask, I must have things exactly as I wanted them.
Last of all - as with Abels, presumably as with all removals - came the sofa and two armchairs, and all their cushions in huge polythene bags, which took some sorting out, but looked very good when in position. It is very lucky that this suite is a dull gold velvet, and goes very well with the room and its pale yellow walls, white panelling and the gilt mirror; beige curtains and brown/beige/yellow tapestries.
I had hoped that all would be over in time for me to get my yoga class, but it became increasingly clear that this wouldn’t be the case, and anyway I was physically and mentally exhausted, and I tried to ring my contacts but no reply. N had said on the phone that he expected Traslochi to put the bill in the post to him at Saint-Denis, but to pay it if they asked; not only did they ask but went on and on trying to explain why it was the sum it was - some avoidance of VAT - using all sorts of financial vocabulary which went over my head for so long that I thought I should fall asleep standing up. We then phoned N, so they could explain to him, but this got us no further, then they finally mentioned a sum almost the same as the one N had quoted, and after having confirmed several time that this was the amount they wanted me to write the cheque for, I did so and I think all were happy.
That wasn’t quite the end though, as I realised I had to go out with the torch and shut the outhouses and the garage doors once they had gone; they helped with this, and I gave them a tip as instructed by N, and they said thank you, and alla prossima, which made as all laugh.
Once inside on my own again, I was very glad of the raviolini which only took a few minutes to cook and eat with some pesto, and was very good. I decided there was no point in trying to sort, move or clean anything that night, and that it was all best left until the next day. The two sideboards looked odd side by side in the grande pièce, as we had known they would, and there was a big space in the dining room where the phone table had been; I measured and decided it would make sense to move the one with the smaller mirror into there. Pleased with my idea, I went to bed, but found it difficult to sleep - I seemed to keep seeing all the Italians coming in the bedroom window.
The first thing to do next morning was to put way all the store cupboard food still standing all over the kitchen, and the next - a task I was really looking forward to - was to find the quilt which had arrived in big trunk and to put it on the bed, finally bringing to fruition this bed which I have been planning since November. The quilt is a very good quality one from John Lewis, with two layers which sandwich together to make a really thick layer. So now the mattress is the right size for the bed, the fitted sheet is the right size for the mattress, the cover fits the quilt and the quilt is also the right size for the bed. Oh, and the pillows are the right size too. It looks very good, and turns out to be the cosiest, most comfortable bed we have ever slept in.
I spent most of the rest of the day sweeping and hoovering all the floors, before I felt I could begin on any of the many boxes of kitchen utensils, pictures and bedding waiting to be unpacked. Some of these were Abels boxes which N had flattened and taken with him in the car and packed again at Soliera, so there was a real sense of déjà vu with some which had my writing on from last September in Cambridge; and here they were standing in the dining room waiting to be unpacked again. At about 3.30 I was hoovering the attic stairs and looked out of the window and saw bags and boxes outside the garage; N had arrived! And wanted to look all round the house at the furniture in its new positions before he even took his coat off.
We were just finishing this, and I had made some tea, when the artisan from Lapeyre - another Monsieur P - arrived early, so he was invited to have tea too. He and I then started looking at the kitchen which all seemed fairly straightforward as before, and then at the bathroom, which took a lot longer. In order for the water from the shower to drain away, there will need to be a concrete base to raise it up (we have to find someone to do this) and there was also a problem with the angle of the WC; eventually it was decided this could be at the same angle as before, but a little further along the wall. I also asked about the possibility of a loo in the upstairs shower room; this is will be OK as long as we can get electricity for the bruyeur (don’t know the word in English) but I felt sure having seen all the men in action the day before that this wouldn’t be a problem. He finally left after about an hour and a half - a good thing he arrived early - and said he would send his findings to Lapeyre, they would send me revised estimates, which I could accept, paying half the total, then it would enter into « le planning » and I would hear when it was time. He also said it would take about two weeks to fit it all, and he would be here full time; I assured him we were very nice people to live with.
N had been unpacking boxes while all this had been going on, and the new dining room table and sideboards were covered in china and glass. He agreed it would be a good idea to move one of the sideboards into the dining room, so first thing on Wednesday morning we did this very carefully; and are so pleased with the result! Having each sideboard in a different room means that they are both shown off to greater advantage, instead of side by side as though they were in a sale room.
It has taken me several days to unpack and put away all the china, kitchen things and bedding; and wash anything I thought we might use straight away. There were also extra things like cushions, iron & ironing board, laundry things, bathroom things, cleaning materials and sewing equipment - the elderly lady whose apartment N had bought was a great needlewoman. Not to mention all the pictures, which N unpacked and stood all the way up the top stairs, so that it looks like an exhibition.
Monday 13 February 2006
N has made great progress with the downstairs bathroom; it now has a painted ceiling, all the dirty beams are out of sight, and thanks to the electricians there are two lights, one ceiling and one wall, and an point for hairdryer or shaver. The loo has become dislodged and is even more precarious, but can be used with care. And this morning N put up the mirror over the basin, to keep it from being broken while it hung around waiting. We bought the shade for the ceiling light on yet another trip to Monsieur Bricolage at Bernay on Friday, where we also got narrow white metal curtain poles for the four windows in the grande pièce, and rods for the inside of the wardrobe, and called in again at our favourite supermarket. On Saturday we drove through freezing fog and frost to a builders merchants called Point P, where N had been before to order his ceiling plasterboards, for beading for the ceiling, and for wood for my other great idea of the week.
We had always planned to have books in the grande pièce on some kind of shelving yet to be determined, but it was becoming quite crowded, and N said perhaps some could go in the corridor outside. I didn’t think there would be room, but then looked again at a « condemned » door and discovered that the depth of the doorframe was exactly that of a paperback book. The door and frame were white, so it seemed great idea to put white shelves in it and fill with paperbacks and other small books. Unfortunately we couldn’t find ready-made white shelves, so I have painted them all. N’s part of the good idea was to nail supports down the edge the depth of every shelf. It has taken very little time, and will look really good once the colouerd books are in it. And means there will be fewer books to store in the grande pièce. N favours getting Monsieur P the carpenter to make us some bookshelves to fit all over the wall of the entrance, but I think this sounds expensive. Watch this space.
This afternoon we are getting ready to go back to Paris as the car has its appointment at the garage tomorrow. There are so many things waiting to be done here that I hope I might be able to come back before Madeleine arrives in Paris on Thursday 23rd. However, just in case I have made up the bed in the attic and N has fixed the wall light over the bed. When I/we return depends on the car. I have rung Monsieur A to let him know we will be away, and as always he said « On verra ça la semaine prochaine », and also phoned the curtain lady but no reply, and received a call from Christine the yoga teacher, to whom I explained my situation. In any case there are two weeks yoga « holiday » for the next two Tuesdays. Madeleine has kindly sent me several exercise DVDs but as yet we have had no time to get the machine going here; will try to have a look at them in Paris. (One of them says « Drop a dress size in four weeks »; my first thought was, what is a dress? Here it’s usually a case of either my really dirty trousers or my less dirty trousers……)
This morning in bed I finished reading War and Peace. I started reading it in May, after we had seen the opera by Prokoviev last winter, and thought now that I had an idea of the plot, it would be a good time to read the book. I found the appendices at the end rather tedious; I think his point had already been made. It means that I have been able to get back to La Porte Etroite, by Gide, before I forgot too much of what was going on there.
Yesterday afternoon the TV aerial man, Monsieur B, came to fix the aerial, check the TV point in N’s study, set up the satellite dish and bring TPS, (Télévision par Satellite) a system requested by N whereby we can watch a whole variety of foreign channels. Monsieur B was very dour to start with, but warmed up as he went on - not literally unfortunately, as he spent a lot of time in the garden fixing the dish (and scratching his forehead on some brambles) and drilling a long hole through the wall to the grande pièce where the TV is situated. He said these walls were particularly thick, and he had to use his larger drill. TPS comes in the form of a box the size of a small video recorder, and sits on top of the other one. He demonstrated some of the channels, of which there are many with names like God TV, Sensual TV and Black Music TV (and Al-Jazeera!) but also the more familiar Italian and German ones and BBC World and BBC Prime Time, plus all the usual French channels, and he said that English people usually ask him to install Sky TV. After I had written two substantial cheques, one for his time and the other as a deposit for TPS - for which there is a monthly subscription payable by N as this is all his idea - he left and I hoovered up the mess from the drilling and the opening of the window on to the street - I don’t think it had been opened for years and was full of cobwebs and dirt from the big lorries that go past. I then went down to the paper shop and got a TV magazine, so I can make sure I don’t miss anything.
So after dinner last night for the first time I was able to watch TV news here, the only snag being that the grande pièce is very cold; there are two radiators of which only one is working (waiting for Monsieur A to come back) and two outside walls. I ended up on the sofa with a blanket round me.
Today I have been on the bus to L’Aigle. We had only visited it once before, to go to an estate agent in September, when it was raining hard and we were taken by the agent to visit a house in the middle of nowhere. But I had memories of a town square and interesting little shops, and it was the best choice time-wise, as buses are not that frequent to anywhere. The journey took about half an hour; I left at 10.19 and got the bus back at 12.35, getting home just after 1.00. It is a very cold grey day today (not made much better by the fact that N has just phoned from Italy where he says it is warm with brilliant sunshine) and I kept feeling that the journey would be totally different in the spring or summer. However, it was interesting, and I could see a lot of the countryside and villages from the bus, which crossed the border to get to L’Aigle - out of our home department of Eure and into Orne. There was only one other passenger, both going and coming back and the driver was listening to Radio Nostalgie, which was quite entertaining.
L’Aigle was bigger than I remembered, with large blocks of flats in the outskirts, and the road from the station - where the bus stopped - led to the agency we had visited, so I knew where I was. My main aim was to buy curtain material for the study, and curtain tape for the dining room curtains, but first I came across lots of other little shops including several shoe shops, which I must return to another time. I found an inexpensive furnishing shop where I bought tape and hooks, and hesitated over some very cheap ready-made voile curtains and asked where I could find a curtain material shop. I was directed to a shop on the main square, « but it’s expensive », she said. It was!
I had a good look round while the proprietress was busy with someone else, taking orders for curtains. The tiny shop was filled with all sorts of fabrics: dress and furnishing fabrics, patchwork, braid, trimmings and samples. I was attracted to some red and yellow material with tulips on; the study has an unusual colour scheme of golden yellow walls and red & grey flecked carpet. It was expensive and there wasn’t much of it left, but she said she ordered most her stock; when I said I rather wanted to buy something I could take back today she said she was happy to deliver it; she delivered to most of her clients, and asked where I lived. « But La Neuve-Lyre isn’t the end of the world! » she said, which I happily kept repeating to myself on the bus on the way home. The material costs far more than I had intended, but will look so much better than the cheap voile I had seen in the other shop; what I really needed was something in between, like the toile de jouy in Montmartre. (Perhaps I need to get all remaining curtain material in Montmartre?) I finally decided that if I added together the prices of this and the really cheap IKEA material for the grande pièce, and divided by the number of windows, then I would feel better about it! She promises to deliver within 10 days, either herself or her husband; I rather hope it’s him, as I’m not sure what she would think of the curtains I have up so far. I think my tastes are a lot simpler.
By the time I got home I was very cold indeed, and took some time to warm up. My shopping time in L’Aigle went quickly, but was quite long enough in these temperatures (3 degrees according to a sign in the main shopping street). I see from the bus timetable that I could also have come back at 4.30 in the afternoon; perhaps another time I’ll try that and have lunch too. I am sure N will liken this to the heroine of Brief Encounter, although unfortunately I don’t think there is a cinema in L’Aigle, although several buildings which look as though they could have been cinemas once.
Sunday 5 February 2006
It’s amazing just how much you can get done when you’re on your own! Apart from writing letters and catching up with my Internet bank, I have finished and hung the dining room curtains, and by the end was quite fed up with the peasants represented on the toile de jouy pattern. There are two couples, one industriously watering and harvesting vegetables while the other two are just sitting around on a well ignoring their animals and playing a pipe. If I were the first couple, I should be very annoyed with them.
One of the (many) things I enjoy about this house is that I can play CDs or the radio very loudly without disturbing anybody. The stereo radio is now set up in the salon, tuned to France Musique, and echoes through the rather empty tiled room, which is waiting for a three piece suite from Italy. Sometimes when I come into the room I feel as though we should be hosting a ball; when I said this to Monsieur P while we were sipping our tea he said he felt sure I must be a dancer; I didn’t like to disillusion him.
I have also watched television, although both last night and this lunchtime it took a while to get it going; but I think this is probably me and the two remote controls rather than the aerial. Yesterday evening I watched part of a tribute to Charles Trenet, which I don’t think he would have thought much of, and today after the lunchtime news saw the news in Italian. If I keep doing this until Wednesday, it will be good practice for dealing with the removal men from Traslochi. Tomorrow will be the last day I can sit around in bed in the morning drinking tea and reading Gide, as on Tuesday Monsieur A is due at 8.15, and on Wednesday Traslochi at 7.30. (I have finished La Porte Etroite - un livre étroite aussi - and have now started on Les Caves du Vatican, all in the same volume.)
The only time I have been out today was to get bread just before lunch; Sunday is always the busiest day at the boulangerie, today the queue went right out onto the pavement. As I stood waiting I thought of years ago when I began to learn French and shops in England were never open on Sundays, and we were told that it was an important French ritual to come out of Mass and buy cakes to take home, usually packaged in a pyramid of paper with a ribbon, and it seemed quite unbelievable! Well, I can assure you now that it’s quite normal.
Tuesday 7 February 2006
N phoned twice during the day yesterday, the first time as early as 11.30 to say that everything was packed up at Soliera and that the van was already on its way, and would probably arrive in La Neuve -Lyre today rather than Wednesday. He said - amongst other things - that the two ornate beds would now have one large new mattress instead of two old thin ones (i.e. only ever a double bed rather than the possibility of two singles) and that there were some fresh raviolini coming with the kitchen things! He later phoned in the evening to say he had signed the preliminary sale papers for the apartment, and was in a hotel in Chambéry (driving back to Paris rather than taking the train.)
By Monday afternoon I had caught up so well with everything that I had run out of things to do, and wished the Italian things would arrive, as I know once they do there will be a lot to sort out, or that the curtain material for the study would be delivered. I did some phone chasing however; firstly Sturno, the company responsible for putting in extra phone points to whom I had sent a cheque and acceptance four weeks ago; they said there had been a bit of a delay, and they would let me know soon when they could come; I asked whether it would be a few days or a few weeks and they said days. I also phoned Lapeyre the kitchen and bathroom people with the same sort of request; they maintained they hadn’t got my phone number! which seemed strange, and were waiting for me to contact them. They then said once they had spoken to the artisan they would call back that afternoon. Nothing happened so I called again this morning; unable to contact the artisan. I would like to get these two visits decided as soon as possible; as N will not now be driving straight on here from Paris because of the repair to the car, I could well be going to Paris on the train, and will soon have to decide when.
Anyway, I ended up spending a lot of yesterday afternoon and evening sorting out photographs. There was a collection from Ainsworth Street, which I had decided when packing up should all be put in a new album I’d been given; an album devoted entirely to Ainsworth Street, i.e. no holidays, graduations or visits. I completed this and was very pleased with it, and even printed it a nice cover with my resourceful new computer. I then turned to a huge old suitcase full of all sorts of photographs; albums, loose pictures and all sorts, which had been packed up when moving out of the house in Montague Road in 1998, and had been lying undisturbed in the loft at Ainsworth Street ever since.
It was strange going back in time, and looking at my former life I wondered more than once how it came to be that I was now the owner of a wonderful house in Normandy, but the strangest thing was seeing photos of pieces of furniture, lamps and pictures, many of which are still here with me now.
This morning I got up early in time to let in Emanuel the electrician at about 8.15, together with an assistant who appears to be doing some kind of work experience. They are here now working hard, I’m pleased to say; we went through the house again and agreed what needs doing in order of priority; he says Monsieur A will come this afternoon re the heating. (I haven’t told them some Italians could arrive with large pieces of furniture at any moment; will not complicate things until I have to! N says he has asked them to ring first)
Anyway straight away they fixed the central light here in the study, and the wall point so that the computer can be plugged in by the door, and I have been able to get rid of the cabling and extension leads all over the floor. « On est rapide, nous », he said when I was amazed at the speed at which this was done. They are now working simultaneously on the extra points in the kitchen, and on the ground floor bathroom, which as usual seems to be causing complications.
Saturday 11 February 2006
In the end Tuesday turned out to be an extremely busy and eventful day. Emanuel and his assistant went off for lunch at about 12.30, and while they were gone I had a phone call from Sturno saying the telephone point installation team were at Verneuil and could they come along to me in about half an hour? I laughed and said I already had two electricians in the house (not to mention the threat of Traslochi) and said yes, of course they could come. The electricians came back - Monsieur A was held up and now wouldn’t be coming - and in all fixed the new wall light in the downstairs bathroom and put another light in the centre of the ceiling and a point on the wall; put shades on the bulbs hanging off the wall on the staircase, and finally got the neon light in the upstairs bathroom working. The two chaps from Sturno arrived; they were young and extremely business-like; and it was so long since we asked for these extra points that I’d had to consult my notes to find out where they were required, but showed them where - a point for the phone in the back hall on the ground floor so we could stop having the phone in the dining room; and a new point in N’s study in the attic so he can have a computer there. In each case they had to take a lead from an existing point; from the dining room round three doorways and through the wall at skirting board level, and upstairs along the ceiling from the point in our bedroom and through the ceiling over the stairwell up to the attic floor and along the beams. They’d just worked out how they were going to do this - obviously seeing it all as a great challenge - when there was a ring at the front gate bell, and there was the man from Traslochi - I could tell because it said so on his overall - and he hadn’t phoned in advance, and I had to start speaking to him in Italian.
We went through the garden and garage and there was the van at the back with the two others in the team; they turned it round and started to bring things in. They’d been well briefed by N re the things which need to go in the outbuildings but I wasn’t sure how they wanted to do the rest. (Rather haphazardly, as it seemed) They fixed up a lift from the side garden to the balcony outside the bedroom, plugged in an electric point just inside the French windows and all the heavy stuff for upstairs came up there. I was so sorry I didn’t have a film in the camera, as this was an amazing sight; they started by tying ropes round the larger branches of the huge fir tree, to keep them out of the way, rather like game wardens holding down a large animal. The pieces of the dining room suite came in the side door between the grande pièce and dining room, which I’d never seen open before. I tried to keep up with where they were and what they were doing, but every so often would be needed by someone else, and from time to time would come across the chaps from Sturno still drilling away, and tried to avoid the ground floor bathroom where the electricians were. More than once I was very glad that this house has two staircases and several outside doors so that when one way was blocked by a ladder I could choose an alternative route.
I tried to speak to them all every so often and let them feel I hadn’t forgotten them, rather like different groups of children who all need to feel equally important, but occasionally and inevitably spoke to someone in the wrong language. At one stage I passed through the kitchen and saw two carrier bags full of food, just as if someone had left shopping there; on closer inspection this was the leftovers promised by N - including the raviolini! - and other fresh produce, and store cupboard things, all smelling (in a Proust like way) just like they used to in the Italian kitchen. N had given them strict instructions to hand these over to la Signora, so as I hadn’t been in the kitchen at that moment they had left them. Later on I saw what appeared to be pair of trousers just taken off and left on the ironing board; this turned out to be - together with some of N’s summer shirts - the contents of the small wardrobe they were bringing; the clothes had travelled on their hangers.
At some time in the afternoon N phoned to say he had arrived back safely in Paris; I laughed when I heard his voice on the phone and told him he could not possibly imagine what was going on here. He said to pass saluti on to the Traslochi men from il Signore. The best thing he said however, and I told him this, was that he would come the next day; apart from looking forward to seeing him again I so wanted him to see all the Italian things in position, not to mention all that I and the electricians had done since he was last here, and I did not want to leave here and have to go back to Paris. The other call during the afternoon was from Lapeyre, to say would it be OK if the artisan came the following day at 5.00? I was very pleased and said yes; not only were things happening quickly, but it meant that my all phone chasing on Monday had come to fruition in two days.
I was glad when the two from Sturno finally left, as that gave me fewer people to keep an eye on; but they had worked so speedily and efficiently I felt they hadn’t been sufficiently appreciated. The electricians were here until 5.30; and kindly hoovered up around the bathroom; when I said I was sorry the place had been so crowded Emanuel said they often worked on sites where there were several different teams at once.
This just left the three from Traslochi, and it was getting dark. The biggest stuff came in last, the two huge glass-topped sideboards for the grande pièce - one came in though the window - and two big chests of drawers for the bedrooms, plus four bedside cupboards and the high ornate frames of the two metal beds (and its huge mattress) which just fitted in between the wall lights - there wouldn‘t have been room as two single beds. There was no central light in the main bedroom, and the bed had been pushed aside to get the largest items in; all the carpets were full of mud and pine needles from the branches of the great tree. Several times I apologetically asked if they could move things just a fraction one way or another; they kept saying, no, no I must ask, I must have things exactly as I wanted them.
Last of all - as with Abels, presumably as with all removals - came the sofa and two armchairs, and all their cushions in huge polythene bags, which took some sorting out, but looked very good when in position. It is very lucky that this suite is a dull gold velvet, and goes very well with the room and its pale yellow walls, white panelling and the gilt mirror; beige curtains and brown/beige/yellow tapestries.
I had hoped that all would be over in time for me to get my yoga class, but it became increasingly clear that this wouldn’t be the case, and anyway I was physically and mentally exhausted, and I tried to ring my contacts but no reply. N had said on the phone that he expected Traslochi to put the bill in the post to him at Saint-Denis, but to pay it if they asked; not only did they ask but went on and on trying to explain why it was the sum it was - some avoidance of VAT - using all sorts of financial vocabulary which went over my head for so long that I thought I should fall asleep standing up. We then phoned N, so they could explain to him, but this got us no further, then they finally mentioned a sum almost the same as the one N had quoted, and after having confirmed several time that this was the amount they wanted me to write the cheque for, I did so and I think all were happy.
That wasn’t quite the end though, as I realised I had to go out with the torch and shut the outhouses and the garage doors once they had gone; they helped with this, and I gave them a tip as instructed by N, and they said thank you, and alla prossima, which made as all laugh.
Once inside on my own again, I was very glad of the raviolini which only took a few minutes to cook and eat with some pesto, and was very good. I decided there was no point in trying to sort, move or clean anything that night, and that it was all best left until the next day. The two sideboards looked odd side by side in the grande pièce, as we had known they would, and there was a big space in the dining room where the phone table had been; I measured and decided it would make sense to move the one with the smaller mirror into there. Pleased with my idea, I went to bed, but found it difficult to sleep - I seemed to keep seeing all the Italians coming in the bedroom window.
The first thing to do next morning was to put way all the store cupboard food still standing all over the kitchen, and the next - a task I was really looking forward to - was to find the quilt which had arrived in big trunk and to put it on the bed, finally bringing to fruition this bed which I have been planning since November. The quilt is a very good quality one from John Lewis, with two layers which sandwich together to make a really thick layer. So now the mattress is the right size for the bed, the fitted sheet is the right size for the mattress, the cover fits the quilt and the quilt is also the right size for the bed. Oh, and the pillows are the right size too. It looks very good, and turns out to be the cosiest, most comfortable bed we have ever slept in.
I spent most of the rest of the day sweeping and hoovering all the floors, before I felt I could begin on any of the many boxes of kitchen utensils, pictures and bedding waiting to be unpacked. Some of these were Abels boxes which N had flattened and taken with him in the car and packed again at Soliera, so there was a real sense of déjà vu with some which had my writing on from last September in Cambridge; and here they were standing in the dining room waiting to be unpacked again. At about 3.30 I was hoovering the attic stairs and looked out of the window and saw bags and boxes outside the garage; N had arrived! And wanted to look all round the house at the furniture in its new positions before he even took his coat off.
We were just finishing this, and I had made some tea, when the artisan from Lapeyre - another Monsieur P - arrived early, so he was invited to have tea too. He and I then started looking at the kitchen which all seemed fairly straightforward as before, and then at the bathroom, which took a lot longer. In order for the water from the shower to drain away, there will need to be a concrete base to raise it up (we have to find someone to do this) and there was also a problem with the angle of the WC; eventually it was decided this could be at the same angle as before, but a little further along the wall. I also asked about the possibility of a loo in the upstairs shower room; this is will be OK as long as we can get electricity for the bruyeur (don’t know the word in English) but I felt sure having seen all the men in action the day before that this wouldn’t be a problem. He finally left after about an hour and a half - a good thing he arrived early - and said he would send his findings to Lapeyre, they would send me revised estimates, which I could accept, paying half the total, then it would enter into « le planning » and I would hear when it was time. He also said it would take about two weeks to fit it all, and he would be here full time; I assured him we were very nice people to live with.
N had been unpacking boxes while all this had been going on, and the new dining room table and sideboards were covered in china and glass. He agreed it would be a good idea to move one of the sideboards into the dining room, so first thing on Wednesday morning we did this very carefully; and are so pleased with the result! Having each sideboard in a different room means that they are both shown off to greater advantage, instead of side by side as though they were in a sale room.
It has taken me several days to unpack and put away all the china, kitchen things and bedding; and wash anything I thought we might use straight away. There were also extra things like cushions, iron & ironing board, laundry things, bathroom things, cleaning materials and sewing equipment - the elderly lady whose apartment N had bought was a great needlewoman. Not to mention all the pictures, which N unpacked and stood all the way up the top stairs, so that it looks like an exhibition.
Monday 13 February 2006
N has made great progress with the downstairs bathroom; it now has a painted ceiling, all the dirty beams are out of sight, and thanks to the electricians there are two lights, one ceiling and one wall, and an point for hairdryer or shaver. The loo has become dislodged and is even more precarious, but can be used with care. And this morning N put up the mirror over the basin, to keep it from being broken while it hung around waiting. We bought the shade for the ceiling light on yet another trip to Monsieur Bricolage at Bernay on Friday, where we also got narrow white metal curtain poles for the four windows in the grande pièce, and rods for the inside of the wardrobe, and called in again at our favourite supermarket. On Saturday we drove through freezing fog and frost to a builders merchants called Point P, where N had been before to order his ceiling plasterboards, for beading for the ceiling, and for wood for my other great idea of the week.
We had always planned to have books in the grande pièce on some kind of shelving yet to be determined, but it was becoming quite crowded, and N said perhaps some could go in the corridor outside. I didn’t think there would be room, but then looked again at a « condemned » door and discovered that the depth of the doorframe was exactly that of a paperback book. The door and frame were white, so it seemed great idea to put white shelves in it and fill with paperbacks and other small books. Unfortunately we couldn’t find ready-made white shelves, so I have painted them all. N’s part of the good idea was to nail supports down the edge the depth of every shelf. It has taken very little time, and will look really good once the colouerd books are in it. And means there will be fewer books to store in the grande pièce. N favours getting Monsieur P the carpenter to make us some bookshelves to fit all over the wall of the entrance, but I think this sounds expensive. Watch this space.
This afternoon we are getting ready to go back to Paris as the car has its appointment at the garage tomorrow. There are so many things waiting to be done here that I hope I might be able to come back before Madeleine arrives in Paris on Thursday 23rd. However, just in case I have made up the bed in the attic and N has fixed the wall light over the bed. When I/we return depends on the car. I have rung Monsieur A to let him know we will be away, and as always he said « On verra ça la semaine prochaine », and also phoned the curtain lady but no reply, and received a call from Christine the yoga teacher, to whom I explained my situation. In any case there are two weeks yoga « holiday » for the next two Tuesdays. Madeleine has kindly sent me several exercise DVDs but as yet we have had no time to get the machine going here; will try to have a look at them in Paris. (One of them says « Drop a dress size in four weeks »; my first thought was, what is a dress? Here it’s usually a case of either my really dirty trousers or my less dirty trousers……)
# posted by Chez Katherine @ 3:43 AM 
