Friday, March 24, 2006
Saturday 18 March 2006
Before we left for Paris last Wednesday week, Monsieur A came round in the morning with the estimate for the new heater, plus a photograph of it. As expected, it will cost several thousands of euros and I gave him a cheque as a deposit. We also asked him to look at our latest problem, the outside drain by the terrace which takes waste water from the kitchen, which was overflowing. It had never looked very clear since we arrived - full of leaves and débris, but for a couple of days had been flooding the grass. He said he could send someone round to see to it while we were away, as they wouldn’t need access to the house, and also mentioned that the plumber/sweep/heating engineer was his nephew Guillaume.
We drove back to Saint-Denis in the afternoon, and the day after I set off for London on Eurostar. N remarked that I looked much smarter than usual, and I said that was because for once I was not dealing with cobwebs and mud, or grovelling on the floor. It was almost six months since I had left Britain - the longest I have ever been out of the country - and a very interesting and stimulating experience. I was away six nights, and apart from two in Cambridge slept in a different bed every night. I caught up with lots of the family, Cambridge friends and office colleagues as well as College contacts at the dinner on Saturday night, and perhaps most importantly with my ex-cat Albertine, happily settled in her new home further down Ainsworth Street. At first England seemed very strange, the windows looked naked without shutters (I remembered this from living in France before) and I kept coming across things I had completely forgotten about: Posh & Becks, Creme Eggs, Radio Times, the Backstreet Bistro in Gwydir Street…. but gradually got used to everything - and the money, but not the prices - and kept having to remind myself I wasn’t going to pick up my bicycle and cycle back to Ainsworth Street. I had a good shopping afternoon in Cambridge, relishing the thought of not having to go back to the office! and enjoyed spending my Marks & Spencer and Boots vouchers. On Sunday morning I went to Ipswich; the train was replaced by a bus so I had a good view of several Suffolk towns and villages and not only thought of Evreux which reminded me of so many of them, but also felt pangs of recognition on seeing timbered houses with beams just like mine! I hadn’t realised I had become so attached to them. When I saw Victorian houses with long gardens like those I had lived in for so many years I also realised just how used I had become to my large square garden surrounding the house on three and a half sides.
On Wednesday afternoon I came home again on Eurostar - it is strange how the journey « away » and the journey « home » have now been reversed - and N was there to meet me at the Gare du Nord, and whereas in the past I would usually stay about five days now this is « home ». While I had been away N had spent three days in Italy for the final signature for the sale of the apartment; all had gone well, no trouble from the Mafia and the cheques paid into his French bank account. He had also finally received his portrait from the Vietnamese artist, too late for me to take, so it will probably go by car in June now, when N goes to Cambridge for a College feast. He was pleased that these two things which had been going on for so long - the sale of the apartment and the portrait - had finally been resolved in the same week, and said that he could now begin to think about where else we might travel in Europe - one of the reasons for my coming to live here! although ever since I arrived in September we have been either house hunting, waiting for the final sale of the Normandy house, or for furniture from Cambridge or Italy, or the sale of the Italian apartment. And the only other thing we were waiting for - the installation of the new kitchen and bathroom - is happening next week.
I had expected to be travelling back to La Neuve-Lyre on my own by train and bus, and that N would be staying in Paris to play string quartets next Wednesday, but he was keen to see whether the drain had been fixed, and to get on with the garden, so we drove back together on Thursday afternoon in time for the delivery of the kitchen materials on Friday. I was not sorry as my bag had become very heavy by that time, and I was so glad to be able to unpack it and put it away after having lived out of it for ten days.
The drain looked wonderfully clear, but so far we have had no contact with Monsieur A or his entourage, and as usual are compiling a list of what we still need him to do. The kitchen stuff arrived as arranged on Friday morning; many boxes and planks and the new fridge and oven all reassuringly marked « Steele », which are at present all stacked in one of the outhouses.
Having been away ten days, the garden looks a little greener and more spring-like; more crocus flowers and taller daffodil and tulip leaves, primulas in several colours and buds on some of the shrubs, but not so far advanced as in Suffolk where daffodils were out in the gardens and the countryside was full of snowdrops. N spent almost all day in the garden yesterday, clearing the path in the rose garden, using some spare concrete slabs to make a step, working on the vegetable patch and clipping the hedge round it (very carefully) with his fierce new electric hedge trimmer. Today we have been to the garden centre at Bernay, and made a record number of purchases: currant and gooseberry bushes, rhubarb and an apricot tree - which have all been planted along the far south-facing wall this afternoon - a rake and an edging tool, and - chosen by me - lots of herbs, some for the herb garden at the end of the vegetable plot and some to go in pots on the terrace, thus more accessible from the kitchen. I was really pleased to find them as on our first visit there I looked everywhere for herbs and was resigned to not having any - obviously it was just too early. N also ordered a water butt, a lawn mower and a compost bin which are to be delivered next Wednesday afternoon; the water butt will be « installed » by the man from the garden centre. In order to make room for it by the drain pipe next to the first outhouse N has replanted a camellia into an ornate Italian pot and placed it by the French windows, where it looks very fine. There is a second camellia near the drain pipe, which may have to be removed to a pot too, in which case it will look even better; I like the idea of being « La Dame aux Camélias » (This makes me think of something I heard on France Musique yesterday; an announcer who was introducing a recording by Janet Baker added « Dame Janet Baker » which to English ears sounded like « Damn Janet Baker! »
Perhaps the most important sight at the garden centre however, was the black cat who was so friendly the first time we were there, now happily settled in a cosy pet bed on a chair behind one of the tills, with what looked like water and food bowls underneath and a cat carrier nearby, obviously having got her paws firmly under the table.
Sunday 19 March 2006
This morning I planted all my herbs (two kinds of parsley, chives, sage, mint, thyme and rosemary) in some very fine Italian pots, in the potting shed, the first gardening I have done of any kind since long before I left Ainsworth Street. I carried them all one by one to the terrace but then decided they would be more sheltered and look better on the kitchen and dining room windowsills. They look nice from inside too, and are now even more accessible from the kitchen. N is making great progress in the vegetable garden; it now has a defined border, much of it has been dug over for the first time, and a space has been cleared at the end next to the herb garden ready for the compost bin. At breakfast he said: « I think we need asparagus and strawberries » and I agreed, even though I knew this was a suggestion for the garden rather than a menu. When I went to fetch the bread I saw Monsieur A in his van; he smiled and waved as he well might, considering how much money I must owe him, but at least he knows we are back and hopefully will think to contact us soon. When I went out on Friday I saw a van belonging to Monsieur P the carpenter at the garage, but no sign of him unfortunately. We are still waiting for him to contact us about the shutters.
Monday 20 March 2006
Today our Kitchen Artisan (still haven’t found out his first name) arrived at about ten past eight, while I was still finishing my breakfast prior to getting the last few things out of the kitchen. The dining room looks a little like a shanty town, with things heaped on and under the kitchen table, and the sideboard is full of food which requires no cooking: cheese, fruit, dates, crisps and tins of sardines.
Great progress was made during the morning - everything on the sink side had been removed before midday, but then came doubts and confusions regarding the measurements and the discovery that one cupboard was missing, and leaking pipes behind, which makes me very glad I am having it all replaced. This afternoon we have had a visit from Vincent (Lapeyre’s fitting expert) and all will be OK once the correct cupboards have come; the ones that are here already look so much more robust.
I washed up after lunch in the downstairs washroom, surprisingly not breaking anything, but I suppose there is still time, and then - at the Artisan’s suggestion - cleaned the sink, tap and hob in the garden. I don’t think he really likes replacing existing ones; he would rather install new. N is continuing digging the garden, but after his Herculean efforts over the last few days is stiff and tired and running a little short on energy.
I phoned Monsieur A who said he would be in touch this week to fix a time for the electricians to come, and for someone to build the « socle » under the proposed new shower. The radiator will be fixed at the same time as the new heater, some time in April.
Today’s other news is that N’s daughter and small granddaughter will arrive to stay at Saint-Denis on Friday 31st, which will probably be the next time I go back there. N is going back tomorrow, but says he will come back here on Friday.
Tuesday 21 March 2006
The kitchen is progressing slowly; continuing work on the pipes behind the sink and dishwasher this morning, which meant that the water was turned off for a while, and then each end of the row of units filled in with wood to match the doors. Once the water was on I washed up again in the downstairs washroom, but after lunch was told I could put things in the dishwasher!
Also this morning Monsieur P the carpenter called in response to my phone message yesterday and was able to speak to N about the shutters; he is very busy and said it won’t be before May, which we agreed was better weather for outdoor work, but we were very pleased that he hasn’t forgotten us.
After that I spent an interesting hour at the hairdressers; I was the only client there and had my hair done by the younger woman who cut it the first time. As always it was a pleasure just to relax and be attended to especially considering the chaos at home, and we had an interesting chat about all sorts of things - illnesses of various clients, my kitchen, her house, nearby towns, people in the village, decorating and her job prospects. I learned some good medical vocabulary!
N has just left after lunch to go back to Paris for his quartets tomorrow, and I hope to catch up with several things; in particular the red curtains for the study which I finally managed to start yesterday afternoon. What I am really waiting for is some sunshine so that I can clean the windows and shutters first - there was much made here yesterday both on TV and in the local market of the fact that it was the first day of spring, but today we have gone back to « grisaille » and what the hairdresser called « un vent glaciale ».
Wednesday 22 March 2006
And this morning I woke up to a thick covering of snow, and it’s still falling! So not much chance of sun and window cleaning today. Yesterday afternoon I found a message from Monsieur A saying that the electricians could come today, so I rapidly phoned back to confirm, and they are here now fixing the electric point in the shower room for the broyeur behind the new loo, and then will be working on the lighting in the outbuildings, in the snow poor things. Monsieur P the artisan is here too (his name is Michel; I saw it written on the side of his van) and yesterday he got the work-top under the window in place; it looks very good with the sink and hob in position, and what was more, I was able to use the hob to heat some tortellini for supper - good news as I was just about to open a tin of sardines! No water or electricity there yet though, so I had to light it with matches and fetch and drain the pasta water in the washroom as before. This morning he is fitting the wall cupboards on the window side.
Having French workmen in the house is quite different from dealing with their British counterparts. For a start they need shaking hands with when they arrive and depart, and don’t require cups of tea and coffee throughout the day. They take a respectable two hour lunch break in the middle of the day; this is because - or perhaps why - they begin at 8.00 in the morning - when they usually go home to eat; presumably something tasty rustled up by Maman or Madame.
Yesterday afternoon I made great progress with the red curtains for the study. They are having tab tops, and as I am rather making it up as I go along, I am pleased with their progress. I also hope to have enough material left to make tie-on cushions for the two chairs in the study - one at the computer desk and the other at the writing desk.
Wednesday - later
This afternoon the man from the garden centre came with the red shiny lawnmower which I shut up carefully in the wood shed, the compost bin which we put in its place in the corner of the vegetable garden (not a good idea really as it was in pieces in a cardboard box) and the most interesting thing, the water butt. I stood in the snow and watched him fit it up in between the camellia and the first outhouse; he needed to drill holes for the water to go in and out, and saw through the drain pipe for the joint. Michel the Kitchen Artisan came and had a look at it and we all agreed it was a very good thing. What was really a good thing, was that this was just the day for it; after quite a dry spell I realised that once it was connected all the snow on all the outhouses (N had positioned it well) was going to melt and trickle into it; even as the drain pipe was cut it was going at quite a speed. And now - about three and a half hours later - it’s two-thirds full.
The kitchen is going slowly; Michel went off to an appointment at 10.30 and skidded on a snowy road and damaged his van, lost a lot of time, and may lose more getting it fixed. The missing cupboards and all the stuff for the bathroom arrived at about 5.30, and are all in the garage. But despite this, he is making progress; the wall cupboards on the sink side are all up plus handles, and look very good, especially as they can be seen right from the far end of the grande pièce. He is rather pessimistic by nature, I think though, and when today’s driver arrived - as when Vincent came - he explained again how difficult it all was, and all he‘d had to do. The electricians weren’t happy either, but I think it was more with the previous owners of the property, at least I hope so! Anyway, there are now working lights in all the outhouses as far as the studio, but not yet in the garage, atelier or woodshed, and the mysteries of the cabling along the walls have yet to be unravelled. It was rather a damp, pessimistic day all round, and I’m glad to have the place to myself again, although have to be up even earlier tomorrow, as the garage has been locked because of all the stuff stored in it.
But, exciting news of a totally different nature: on Monday I finally posted off an application to sing in Bach’s St John Passion in Paris on 9 April, after dithering for some while as plans for visiting Britain weren’t definite, and today I received an e-mail saying a place has been reserved for me and that all details are in the post! I first saw the details back in November - the choir and orchestra of the Sorbonne need 1000 singers to sing the chorales of the Passion, the parts that would originally have been sung by the congregation. I have sung the St John Passion several times in Cambridge, and am looking forward very much to singing it again. So the first thing I did was listen to the CD, while doing a bit more of the red curtains. These are more or less finished now, apart from the hems.
Thursday 23 March 2006
A far more optimistic day today - bright sunshine, although still cold and the last patches of snow on the grass were around till lunchtime. I was still worried at not having heard from Monsieur A about anyone coming to construct the « socle » for the new shower, so phoned first thing and he said he would send someone at 8 tomorrow. I passed this message on to the Artisan and said he would be able to tell them exactly what was needed and then I thought I’d better get on with painting the window frame in the washroom (fortunately , as it turned out.) It was ideal weather, and having done that and the little shelf unit too, got on with cleaning the study windows and shutters, which took ages, just as the equivalent ones upstairs had. Marie-Antoinette appeared opposite cleaning hers, and said the weather made you want to be out cleaning the windows, didn’t it? I didn’t think I would shout an invitation to her across the street, but hoped I might catch up with her next week, perhaps when I have a kitchen! I spent a long time moving the chair and desk in the study and repositioning the ladder to get both sets of curtains up to check the hems, and them took them upstairs again to finish, so I didn’t see Michel the Artisan go off at lunch time.
After my own lunch I finally finished the curtains, while listening to the end of the Saint John Passion very loudly, thought I heard voices downstairs but that it was probably the Artisan on his phone; went down as far as the washroom and saw two complete strangers dismantling the loo, with water all over the floor; an older man with glasses and a limp, and a younger one who might have been Indian.
What had happened - I eventually worked out, without much help from anybody - was that these were Monsieur A’s men who had apparently come round a day early at about 11.30, spoken to the artisan about what was needed, gone off to fetch their stuff, and come back in the afternoon, when he was not about, and just got on with it. And in order to have room to build the « socle » they needed to remove the old loo first, with the artisan’s blessing. (What they made of the Saint John Passion, I can’t imagine. Fortunately I wasn’t singing along with it at the time.)
The first thing I did was rescue my newly painted white shelf unit, and fetch cloths for the floor and some sticky tape to stop the water still coming out of the pipe to the former cistern. I then opened the side door to the garden and the poor old leaking loo was laid unceremoniously on its back on the grass, like some animal breathing its last. The « socle », two boards making a square in the corner with cement poured inside up to about six inches, was finished almost straight away, and after carefully cleaning the hall carpet, they were off. By the end of the working day the sink/window side of the kitchen was almost finished, apart from pieces still awaited - door cover for the dishwasher and the saucepan drawers, but all the complicated stuff: sink, oven, hob, water, gas and electricity was in place, together with the work top and the wall cupboards. The other side of the kitchen is much simpler, just floor and wall cupboards with washing machine already in place underneath and new fridge/freezer standing at the end.
Before we left for Paris last Wednesday week, Monsieur A came round in the morning with the estimate for the new heater, plus a photograph of it. As expected, it will cost several thousands of euros and I gave him a cheque as a deposit. We also asked him to look at our latest problem, the outside drain by the terrace which takes waste water from the kitchen, which was overflowing. It had never looked very clear since we arrived - full of leaves and débris, but for a couple of days had been flooding the grass. He said he could send someone round to see to it while we were away, as they wouldn’t need access to the house, and also mentioned that the plumber/sweep/heating engineer was his nephew Guillaume.
We drove back to Saint-Denis in the afternoon, and the day after I set off for London on Eurostar. N remarked that I looked much smarter than usual, and I said that was because for once I was not dealing with cobwebs and mud, or grovelling on the floor. It was almost six months since I had left Britain - the longest I have ever been out of the country - and a very interesting and stimulating experience. I was away six nights, and apart from two in Cambridge slept in a different bed every night. I caught up with lots of the family, Cambridge friends and office colleagues as well as College contacts at the dinner on Saturday night, and perhaps most importantly with my ex-cat Albertine, happily settled in her new home further down Ainsworth Street. At first England seemed very strange, the windows looked naked without shutters (I remembered this from living in France before) and I kept coming across things I had completely forgotten about: Posh & Becks, Creme Eggs, Radio Times, the Backstreet Bistro in Gwydir Street…. but gradually got used to everything - and the money, but not the prices - and kept having to remind myself I wasn’t going to pick up my bicycle and cycle back to Ainsworth Street. I had a good shopping afternoon in Cambridge, relishing the thought of not having to go back to the office! and enjoyed spending my Marks & Spencer and Boots vouchers. On Sunday morning I went to Ipswich; the train was replaced by a bus so I had a good view of several Suffolk towns and villages and not only thought of Evreux which reminded me of so many of them, but also felt pangs of recognition on seeing timbered houses with beams just like mine! I hadn’t realised I had become so attached to them. When I saw Victorian houses with long gardens like those I had lived in for so many years I also realised just how used I had become to my large square garden surrounding the house on three and a half sides.
On Wednesday afternoon I came home again on Eurostar - it is strange how the journey « away » and the journey « home » have now been reversed - and N was there to meet me at the Gare du Nord, and whereas in the past I would usually stay about five days now this is « home ». While I had been away N had spent three days in Italy for the final signature for the sale of the apartment; all had gone well, no trouble from the Mafia and the cheques paid into his French bank account. He had also finally received his portrait from the Vietnamese artist, too late for me to take, so it will probably go by car in June now, when N goes to Cambridge for a College feast. He was pleased that these two things which had been going on for so long - the sale of the apartment and the portrait - had finally been resolved in the same week, and said that he could now begin to think about where else we might travel in Europe - one of the reasons for my coming to live here! although ever since I arrived in September we have been either house hunting, waiting for the final sale of the Normandy house, or for furniture from Cambridge or Italy, or the sale of the Italian apartment. And the only other thing we were waiting for - the installation of the new kitchen and bathroom - is happening next week.
I had expected to be travelling back to La Neuve-Lyre on my own by train and bus, and that N would be staying in Paris to play string quartets next Wednesday, but he was keen to see whether the drain had been fixed, and to get on with the garden, so we drove back together on Thursday afternoon in time for the delivery of the kitchen materials on Friday. I was not sorry as my bag had become very heavy by that time, and I was so glad to be able to unpack it and put it away after having lived out of it for ten days.
The drain looked wonderfully clear, but so far we have had no contact with Monsieur A or his entourage, and as usual are compiling a list of what we still need him to do. The kitchen stuff arrived as arranged on Friday morning; many boxes and planks and the new fridge and oven all reassuringly marked « Steele », which are at present all stacked in one of the outhouses.
Having been away ten days, the garden looks a little greener and more spring-like; more crocus flowers and taller daffodil and tulip leaves, primulas in several colours and buds on some of the shrubs, but not so far advanced as in Suffolk where daffodils were out in the gardens and the countryside was full of snowdrops. N spent almost all day in the garden yesterday, clearing the path in the rose garden, using some spare concrete slabs to make a step, working on the vegetable patch and clipping the hedge round it (very carefully) with his fierce new electric hedge trimmer. Today we have been to the garden centre at Bernay, and made a record number of purchases: currant and gooseberry bushes, rhubarb and an apricot tree - which have all been planted along the far south-facing wall this afternoon - a rake and an edging tool, and - chosen by me - lots of herbs, some for the herb garden at the end of the vegetable plot and some to go in pots on the terrace, thus more accessible from the kitchen. I was really pleased to find them as on our first visit there I looked everywhere for herbs and was resigned to not having any - obviously it was just too early. N also ordered a water butt, a lawn mower and a compost bin which are to be delivered next Wednesday afternoon; the water butt will be « installed » by the man from the garden centre. In order to make room for it by the drain pipe next to the first outhouse N has replanted a camellia into an ornate Italian pot and placed it by the French windows, where it looks very fine. There is a second camellia near the drain pipe, which may have to be removed to a pot too, in which case it will look even better; I like the idea of being « La Dame aux Camélias » (This makes me think of something I heard on France Musique yesterday; an announcer who was introducing a recording by Janet Baker added « Dame Janet Baker » which to English ears sounded like « Damn Janet Baker! »
Perhaps the most important sight at the garden centre however, was the black cat who was so friendly the first time we were there, now happily settled in a cosy pet bed on a chair behind one of the tills, with what looked like water and food bowls underneath and a cat carrier nearby, obviously having got her paws firmly under the table.
Sunday 19 March 2006
This morning I planted all my herbs (two kinds of parsley, chives, sage, mint, thyme and rosemary) in some very fine Italian pots, in the potting shed, the first gardening I have done of any kind since long before I left Ainsworth Street. I carried them all one by one to the terrace but then decided they would be more sheltered and look better on the kitchen and dining room windowsills. They look nice from inside too, and are now even more accessible from the kitchen. N is making great progress in the vegetable garden; it now has a defined border, much of it has been dug over for the first time, and a space has been cleared at the end next to the herb garden ready for the compost bin. At breakfast he said: « I think we need asparagus and strawberries » and I agreed, even though I knew this was a suggestion for the garden rather than a menu. When I went to fetch the bread I saw Monsieur A in his van; he smiled and waved as he well might, considering how much money I must owe him, but at least he knows we are back and hopefully will think to contact us soon. When I went out on Friday I saw a van belonging to Monsieur P the carpenter at the garage, but no sign of him unfortunately. We are still waiting for him to contact us about the shutters.
Monday 20 March 2006
Today our Kitchen Artisan (still haven’t found out his first name) arrived at about ten past eight, while I was still finishing my breakfast prior to getting the last few things out of the kitchen. The dining room looks a little like a shanty town, with things heaped on and under the kitchen table, and the sideboard is full of food which requires no cooking: cheese, fruit, dates, crisps and tins of sardines.
Great progress was made during the morning - everything on the sink side had been removed before midday, but then came doubts and confusions regarding the measurements and the discovery that one cupboard was missing, and leaking pipes behind, which makes me very glad I am having it all replaced. This afternoon we have had a visit from Vincent (Lapeyre’s fitting expert) and all will be OK once the correct cupboards have come; the ones that are here already look so much more robust.
I washed up after lunch in the downstairs washroom, surprisingly not breaking anything, but I suppose there is still time, and then - at the Artisan’s suggestion - cleaned the sink, tap and hob in the garden. I don’t think he really likes replacing existing ones; he would rather install new. N is continuing digging the garden, but after his Herculean efforts over the last few days is stiff and tired and running a little short on energy.
I phoned Monsieur A who said he would be in touch this week to fix a time for the electricians to come, and for someone to build the « socle » under the proposed new shower. The radiator will be fixed at the same time as the new heater, some time in April.
Today’s other news is that N’s daughter and small granddaughter will arrive to stay at Saint-Denis on Friday 31st, which will probably be the next time I go back there. N is going back tomorrow, but says he will come back here on Friday.
Tuesday 21 March 2006
The kitchen is progressing slowly; continuing work on the pipes behind the sink and dishwasher this morning, which meant that the water was turned off for a while, and then each end of the row of units filled in with wood to match the doors. Once the water was on I washed up again in the downstairs washroom, but after lunch was told I could put things in the dishwasher!
Also this morning Monsieur P the carpenter called in response to my phone message yesterday and was able to speak to N about the shutters; he is very busy and said it won’t be before May, which we agreed was better weather for outdoor work, but we were very pleased that he hasn’t forgotten us.
After that I spent an interesting hour at the hairdressers; I was the only client there and had my hair done by the younger woman who cut it the first time. As always it was a pleasure just to relax and be attended to especially considering the chaos at home, and we had an interesting chat about all sorts of things - illnesses of various clients, my kitchen, her house, nearby towns, people in the village, decorating and her job prospects. I learned some good medical vocabulary!
N has just left after lunch to go back to Paris for his quartets tomorrow, and I hope to catch up with several things; in particular the red curtains for the study which I finally managed to start yesterday afternoon. What I am really waiting for is some sunshine so that I can clean the windows and shutters first - there was much made here yesterday both on TV and in the local market of the fact that it was the first day of spring, but today we have gone back to « grisaille » and what the hairdresser called « un vent glaciale ».
Wednesday 22 March 2006
And this morning I woke up to a thick covering of snow, and it’s still falling! So not much chance of sun and window cleaning today. Yesterday afternoon I found a message from Monsieur A saying that the electricians could come today, so I rapidly phoned back to confirm, and they are here now fixing the electric point in the shower room for the broyeur behind the new loo, and then will be working on the lighting in the outbuildings, in the snow poor things. Monsieur P the artisan is here too (his name is Michel; I saw it written on the side of his van) and yesterday he got the work-top under the window in place; it looks very good with the sink and hob in position, and what was more, I was able to use the hob to heat some tortellini for supper - good news as I was just about to open a tin of sardines! No water or electricity there yet though, so I had to light it with matches and fetch and drain the pasta water in the washroom as before. This morning he is fitting the wall cupboards on the window side.
Having French workmen in the house is quite different from dealing with their British counterparts. For a start they need shaking hands with when they arrive and depart, and don’t require cups of tea and coffee throughout the day. They take a respectable two hour lunch break in the middle of the day; this is because - or perhaps why - they begin at 8.00 in the morning - when they usually go home to eat; presumably something tasty rustled up by Maman or Madame.
Yesterday afternoon I made great progress with the red curtains for the study. They are having tab tops, and as I am rather making it up as I go along, I am pleased with their progress. I also hope to have enough material left to make tie-on cushions for the two chairs in the study - one at the computer desk and the other at the writing desk.
Wednesday - later
This afternoon the man from the garden centre came with the red shiny lawnmower which I shut up carefully in the wood shed, the compost bin which we put in its place in the corner of the vegetable garden (not a good idea really as it was in pieces in a cardboard box) and the most interesting thing, the water butt. I stood in the snow and watched him fit it up in between the camellia and the first outhouse; he needed to drill holes for the water to go in and out, and saw through the drain pipe for the joint. Michel the Kitchen Artisan came and had a look at it and we all agreed it was a very good thing. What was really a good thing, was that this was just the day for it; after quite a dry spell I realised that once it was connected all the snow on all the outhouses (N had positioned it well) was going to melt and trickle into it; even as the drain pipe was cut it was going at quite a speed. And now - about three and a half hours later - it’s two-thirds full.
The kitchen is going slowly; Michel went off to an appointment at 10.30 and skidded on a snowy road and damaged his van, lost a lot of time, and may lose more getting it fixed. The missing cupboards and all the stuff for the bathroom arrived at about 5.30, and are all in the garage. But despite this, he is making progress; the wall cupboards on the sink side are all up plus handles, and look very good, especially as they can be seen right from the far end of the grande pièce. He is rather pessimistic by nature, I think though, and when today’s driver arrived - as when Vincent came - he explained again how difficult it all was, and all he‘d had to do. The electricians weren’t happy either, but I think it was more with the previous owners of the property, at least I hope so! Anyway, there are now working lights in all the outhouses as far as the studio, but not yet in the garage, atelier or woodshed, and the mysteries of the cabling along the walls have yet to be unravelled. It was rather a damp, pessimistic day all round, and I’m glad to have the place to myself again, although have to be up even earlier tomorrow, as the garage has been locked because of all the stuff stored in it.
But, exciting news of a totally different nature: on Monday I finally posted off an application to sing in Bach’s St John Passion in Paris on 9 April, after dithering for some while as plans for visiting Britain weren’t definite, and today I received an e-mail saying a place has been reserved for me and that all details are in the post! I first saw the details back in November - the choir and orchestra of the Sorbonne need 1000 singers to sing the chorales of the Passion, the parts that would originally have been sung by the congregation. I have sung the St John Passion several times in Cambridge, and am looking forward very much to singing it again. So the first thing I did was listen to the CD, while doing a bit more of the red curtains. These are more or less finished now, apart from the hems.
Thursday 23 March 2006
A far more optimistic day today - bright sunshine, although still cold and the last patches of snow on the grass were around till lunchtime. I was still worried at not having heard from Monsieur A about anyone coming to construct the « socle » for the new shower, so phoned first thing and he said he would send someone at 8 tomorrow. I passed this message on to the Artisan and said he would be able to tell them exactly what was needed and then I thought I’d better get on with painting the window frame in the washroom (fortunately , as it turned out.) It was ideal weather, and having done that and the little shelf unit too, got on with cleaning the study windows and shutters, which took ages, just as the equivalent ones upstairs had. Marie-Antoinette appeared opposite cleaning hers, and said the weather made you want to be out cleaning the windows, didn’t it? I didn’t think I would shout an invitation to her across the street, but hoped I might catch up with her next week, perhaps when I have a kitchen! I spent a long time moving the chair and desk in the study and repositioning the ladder to get both sets of curtains up to check the hems, and them took them upstairs again to finish, so I didn’t see Michel the Artisan go off at lunch time.
After my own lunch I finally finished the curtains, while listening to the end of the Saint John Passion very loudly, thought I heard voices downstairs but that it was probably the Artisan on his phone; went down as far as the washroom and saw two complete strangers dismantling the loo, with water all over the floor; an older man with glasses and a limp, and a younger one who might have been Indian.
What had happened - I eventually worked out, without much help from anybody - was that these were Monsieur A’s men who had apparently come round a day early at about 11.30, spoken to the artisan about what was needed, gone off to fetch their stuff, and come back in the afternoon, when he was not about, and just got on with it. And in order to have room to build the « socle » they needed to remove the old loo first, with the artisan’s blessing. (What they made of the Saint John Passion, I can’t imagine. Fortunately I wasn’t singing along with it at the time.)
The first thing I did was rescue my newly painted white shelf unit, and fetch cloths for the floor and some sticky tape to stop the water still coming out of the pipe to the former cistern. I then opened the side door to the garden and the poor old leaking loo was laid unceremoniously on its back on the grass, like some animal breathing its last. The « socle », two boards making a square in the corner with cement poured inside up to about six inches, was finished almost straight away, and after carefully cleaning the hall carpet, they were off. By the end of the working day the sink/window side of the kitchen was almost finished, apart from pieces still awaited - door cover for the dishwasher and the saucepan drawers, but all the complicated stuff: sink, oven, hob, water, gas and electricity was in place, together with the work top and the wall cupboards. The other side of the kitchen is much simpler, just floor and wall cupboards with washing machine already in place underneath and new fridge/freezer standing at the end.
# posted by Chez Katherine @ 1:29 AM 
