Monday, July 24, 2006
Sunday 16 July 2006
On Thursday morning I finally rang Monsieur A to ask about when the electrician might be coming. He had either forgotten or been extremely busy - perhaps both - and agreed when I said I presumed it now wouldn’t be before Tuesday. As often, he asked me to remind him what exactly still needed doing, so I read out the list, confusing as a lot of the things on it had been agreed between N and Emanuel. Monsieur A eventually said he would give us a call the day before, and asked if we would be about on Monday, so all we can do is hope for the best. It does make trying to plan anything rather difficult; we can never decide to go anywhere until after about 9 in the morning.
About half an hour later the phone rang and I wondered if Monsieur A had suddenly had a change of plan, but it was a message to check whether our bookshelves could be delivered next Tuesday. I of course said yes; this was good news as we thought it wouldn’t be before the end of July. We then decided to go out to Bernay, to get the « nose »; the French expression for the right-angled plastic strip to go over the step between the newly lino-ed bathroom and the hall. N also needed yet more narrow strips of wood, this time for his latest project - fitting window frames round the little outside windows on the staircase. The plan was also to call in at Lapeyre to get the sanitising product I had ordered; in all the excitement of the bookshelves I forgot to take the receipt with me; I needn’t have worried, Vincent remembered me and the plastic container had my name stuck down the side in very large letters.
We called at the Intermarché supermarket and at the garden centre as usual; N was looking for spring onion seeds and seeing about a service for the lawn mower. I wanted to get another green hanging plant for the verandah having found a nice hanging container in the potting shed which I felt should be used, but got waylaid looking at garden tables. (While having lunch at our little square table under the pine tree over the last few days we had realised that if we wanted to have lunch out there when N’s family come in August - when there will be eight of us for several days - we were going to have to make different arrangements; either a plank and trestles or an inexpensive white plastic table which could stay out in all weathers, together with an assortment of existing chairs.) The table I saw - lightweight white plastic with an extra leaf which meant it could seat eight - was part of an special offer; with the table and six armchairs there was a free « bain de soleil », a lounging bed with adjustable back and two wheels behind to move it round. When N saw the table he decided it was just the thing, and said we ought to have a long cushion for the bed - we chose green and white stripes to match the Italian parasol - once again it was the last one left in the sale, and they said they could deliver on Saturday afternoon. We were rather exhilarated by such a large impulse buy, and suddenly discovered that the garden centre was closing for lunch, and I only just had enough time to buy my hanging ivy.
This I hung from a convenient nail on the verandah rafters while N was having a siesta - he didn’t notice it until a few days later. I think it makes the verandah look more like a conservatory, and am pleased I can see it from the kitchen.
On Thursday evening we went to the first of several local events to celebrate the national holiday on 14 July. It was an evening « Foire à Tout » at Rugles; at least we had seen several advertised, but this was the only one we have got to, as it has been so hot. I have seen Rugles fairly regularly as the bus to L’Aigle goes through it, but N hadn’t been since we were viewing in September, and I enjoyed seeing the same route in the early evening instead of the morning. It was a small fair in a field with the usual mix of collectors’ items, market traders and people trying to get rid of their own junk, but almost immediately we found and bought a large rectangular gilt-framed mirror for 15 euros; we hadn’t thought where we would put it but I think we both felt that if we had seen this first we would not have bought the more expensive one we have over the fireplace! N took it back to the car straight away and we think now it might go over the chest of drawers in the back hall once it has been repapered, to replace a smaller one from Cambridge. I then saw him in deep discussion with a man trying to sell him a violin made in Germany in 1919 by a French prisoner of war; he didn’t buy it. I bought two little white candlesticks in the shape of hands, a brown pottery jug and - at N’s insistence - a chamber pot inscribed with « Vive la Mariée! » He seems to think that when we have a house full of guests some of them might like to use chamber pots in their rooms, but I am not so sure. We also spent some time talking to a man selling various sets of weights; I need some as I have balance scales with weights in pounds and ounces and need a metric set, but all of his were either too heavy (garden vegetables) or too light (medicinal) and none appropriate for the kitchen.
After viewing the main streets of Rugles and not finding anywhere suitable to have dinner, we went home and N made a potato soufflé omelette which he has been promising to do for some time, and very good it was too. We were just about to eat it when we had a call from Nigel Palmer in Saint-Denis - the film translator who had been to lunch with his wife - saying that if we had been in Paris they would have invited us to go and see the quatorze juillet fireworks with them. But, as he said, we were in « the summer palace », and they would invite us soon, and I said that they should come here to the summer palace and see us.
On the morning of Friday, the quatorze juillet itself, we started the day with a discussion about revolution and monarchy; N didn’t feel that the revolution should be celebrated, I thought that it was the republic which was being celebrated. We watched quite lot of the Champs Elysées procession on television, comparing it with the Trooping of the Colour which we had both seen while in Britain, the Soviet May Day parade and a similar (to the French) Italian national day parade we had seen on TV a few years ago. I was keen to see La Neuve-Lyre’s ceremony, having seen it advertised on poster - leaving from outside the Mairie at 11.30. It was similar to the event on May 8; and was at the same time very amusing and very moving. A small procession led by a couple of anciens combattants with banners, followed by the mayor and a group of about 30 or so inhabitants - mostly over 60 - left the Mairie and walked to the War Memorial, in the next square, opposite the Post Office. I watched from the other side of the road. There was much cheek kissing and shaking of hands as people recognised each other in the group. The mayor spoke into a microphone, thanked everybody for coming and said that we were here to commemorate the anniversary of the storming of the Bastille and switched on a nearby tape recorder from which issued a very tinny fanfare. Suddenly the volunteer firemen drove up in their van - according to the poster they should have been there from the beginning - and hurriedly dismounted, adjusted their helmets and got into line (they always make me think of Camberwick Green) and marched up to the War Memorial with their banner. The mayor then gave most of his speech again, somebody laid a wreath, we had a minute silence (during which the traffic continued to rush past) and the mayor announced The Marseillaise and switched his tape recorder on again. It was a very scratchy orchestral recording, so fast and sung by such a high tenor that I wondered if it was at the right speed. I had assumed this might be for everybody to join in the singing, but they just listened. The mayor then announced that the same ceremony would now take place at La Vieille-Lyre and everybody started moving off; I went quickly round to the boulangerie, where I was interested see on a poster that the Vieille-Lyre ceremony was due to start at 12.45; it was by then already 12.50.
The rest of the day felt like a Saturday, and in the evening we watched excerpts from President Chirac’s interview, including what he had said to Zidane and what Zidane had said to him.
On Saturday afternoon the garden table, chairs and lounging bed were delivered at about 3; I had a phone call first from the driver who said hadn’t he been to our house before, and fitted up a water butt? I agreed, and when he arrived we recognised each other and I said that it was the day of the snow when he had been here. N hadn’t met him before, but as it was he who had delivered the lawn mower asked him if he could take it back to the garden centre for its service; to save us taking it both ways, to which he happily agreed. He assembled the lounging bed for us, very good with its green & white cushion matching the parasol; the terrace looks more and more like a hotel.
Once he had gone we arranged all the chairs and had a ceremonial First Tea at the table, as N said, rather Mad Hatter’s Tea Party, with just the two of us at one end. I tried all my largest tablecloths on it but none was long enough; we did find however a rather stained plastic one from Italy which just covered it and which we decided to leave clipped on for protection. I must go back to the stall at L’Aigle market where I got the excellent stain-resistant round one (in almost constant use) and see if I can get one large enough; the table is 2 metres 20 long.
Monday 17 July 2006
We decided that during the winter all the garden furniture - old and new - would have to be stored in the second outhouse. So far this has just served as a store for empty cardboard boxes, and has thus been known as The Box Office; all the moving boxes from Abels and from Traslochi plus boxes from all the appliances we have bought. We hadn’t explored it much; I just have memories of going there on dark January and February days in my coat, throwing in the boxes and getting back indoors in the warm. Over the last few days N has cleared it completely, flattening all the boxes out on the grass and sweeping it all out, evicting several dozen spiders, removing rusty nails from the walls and leaving the door and window open to dry it out. This morning we have put all the boxes in the loft over the woodshed, just in case they ever come in useful, and have spent a lot of time wondering what The Box Office was originally built for; possibly a gardener’s or groom’s quarters - there seems to be evidence of a stove in the corner, and before that a brick fireplace, and at the bottom of the original outside door a cat (or dog) hole! N has great plans for re-plastering the remaining outbuildings and making them habitable, who or what for, we are not sure. While sweeping out the scruffy ante-room in between the Potting Shed and the Orange Studio he pulled out a piece of newspaper stuffed behind a beam and found it was dated 1935.
At the back of The Box Office we found a large bright blue flower pot which had been on the terrace when we arrived; I didn’t like the colour then and don’t like it any more now so N suggested I paint it white. It has had one coat today and already looks much better. I said it might end up looking fashionably old and distressed, and he said yes, just like he does.
Just as we were going to sleep on Saturday night we heard explosions and remembered a poster we had seen for Fireworks at La Neuve-Lyre at 11.30 pm, so got up and watched them for a few minutes from the front bedroom window. A very different experience from Britain on a cold November early evening.
Over the last week the days have got steadily hotter; the sky has been cloudless for days, both on the weather map and in reality. We have now been back here 15 days, the longest we have been in one place for some time, and enjoying it. N is anxiously watering the brown lawns with the sprinkler, and taking long siestas in the early afternoons. I have been enjoying the sun - especially with the new sun bed! - but since yesterday it is too hot even for me, and I am finding it best to be indoors at the computer in the early afternoon. In between times N has finished the window frames on the little stair windows, and replaced the warped skirting board in the smaller attic. This morning he has started stripping the wallpaper in the back hall - one of the last large projects on our list! (Along with the bookshelves but they are coming tomorrow. It is difficult to imagine when I look at the majority of my books stacked under the sideboard in the grande pièce for several months, that this time next week they could be neatly accessible on shelves!) We have moved the furniture out of the back hall into the salon. I have been assisting in all these projects (which usually means hoovering up afterwards) and catching up with washing and ironing when it isn’t too hot. I have also given a final good clean and scrape to the tiles in the downstairs shower room. I feel I have neglected my turnips recently, they look at me accusingly whenever I go into the first outhouse, I look on them as a kind of penance of which I should do so many each day.
Saturday 22 July 2006
No turnips frozen at all recently, I’m afraid, although we have cooked and eaten a few. We seem to have been working almost non-stop over the last few days, and it is difficult to remember what it was like to go out anywhere that wasn’t for garden equipment, DIY or the supermarket. We have achieved an enormous amount however; the back hall is all papered, plus a little frieze round the top; the bookshelves arrived and have been assembled with all my books (and some of N’s) in them. N has begun work on the little bookcase/china cabinet in the dining room - it originally had a glass front many years ago and he is going to fit Perspex in it instead, and has already mended a shelf support. We have also repaired torn wallpaper on the top attic stairs with some we found here in a cupboard. Emanuel the electrician finally turned up on Friday, and was here all day; strange to see him in summer mode in shorts with a large bottle of water. He tidied up the fuse boxes in the boiler room and verandah, fitted electric points in the verandah and outhouses, mended a light in the verandah, and fitted a sensor to an elegant light outside the first outhouse so that when we go to fetch things from the freezer in there on winter nights the light will come on as we approach. This will be very good; as Emanuel says, winter is long. He has finally fitted one of the neon lights in the atelier, plus two electric points, so at last we can see properly in there. The other is for the garage, and Monsieur A has just confirmed that Emanuel will be coming back on Monday to finish it then. This is a great relief - it seems that every time he has been before, it is a long time before he gets back again to continue where he left off. And this should be the last time.
On Tuesday I took the bus to L’Aigle market again, with three main objectives in mind; backing paper for my picture framing, a long tablecloth for the new garden table and the re-framing of a sampler. I had seen just the shop for sampler next door to the curtain shop. There were still road works and I had to go all the way to L’Aigle station and walk back to the town (obligatory visit to the shoe warehouse on the way) so not so much time as usual. The sampler framing and the tablecloth went well; I collect the sampler in September and the cloth is plenty long enough with a pattern of cherries all over it! but the art shop was closed for annual holidays. It was very hot on Tuesday morning (30 degrees in L‘Aigle) and my basket was heavy with camembert, ham and strawberries; I felt like Little Red Riding Hood using the cloth to cover them all up. I also had long flowers from the flower market, so was not at all pleased when the bus home drove straight past me without stopping. The driver was training a learner driver and not looking in my direction at all. I phoned N who kindly came to collect me; after another half an hour waiting in the sun. Nothing is ever simple; I thought I had found a shady nice pavement café in the square so that I could see him coming - but they were only serving meals and suggested I went to the hotel bar. This I did, continually jumping up to look out of the window, but N eventually arrived and at least I had had a drink. We ended up having lunch at about 2 o’clock; N had made a wonderful salade niçoise.
While we were wall-papering on Wednesday afternoon Monsieur P called with his assistant to mend the fastening on the salon window, so that it now won’t blow open in a gale or let in draughts. He had suggested before that we might like to visit his workshop and see our louvred shutters being made - I think he wanted us to realise just why they were so expensive - and said would we like to come on Thursday at midday. This we did; only the second time we had ever been there, and once again very interesting. We saw all the side frames of the shutters and the slanting central pieces with all the notches precisely cut. I said I couldn’t imagine measuring and cutting them by hand, thinking of the 1850’s when the original ones would have been made, and Monsieur P said he had done it that way when he was an apprentice! He gave us an off-cut as a souvenir, and we wished him a good holiday, off on Saturday morning towards the Pyrenees so that he can do some cycling. We are not sure if there is a Madame P; need to know this if we are to invite him to dinner, which we are considering.
On Thursday afternoon we had a very efficient trip to Bernay - I finally got some paper to back my pictures; we called in at Lapeyre to confirm delivery of the Velux blinds for the attics and to leave a message for our Artisan to say that the downstairs loo cistern keeps leaking; we are waiting for him to get in contact. Once again Vincent recognised us, and I told Nicolas how much I was enjoying the kitchen, and he remembered the original planning of it on the computer; it’s good to be known! I wouldn’t have thought there was anything else we could possibly need at Monsieur Bricolage, but N managed to find a lot, including the large sheet of Perspex for the door of the china cabinet, lots of picture hooks for the back hall, the frieze to go round the top of the wallpaper and yet more strong liquid for getting the glue off the floor. Also, after one day’s wallpapering, we realised we could do with another wide brush and a little roller for smoothing down the joins. After a fairly modest supermarket shop, we went on to Vive le Jardin! to collect the lawn mower back from its check-up, not daring to buy any compost or anything else as there was barely room for us in the car.
We finished most of our wallpapering on Friday leaving the final most difficult bit (round the radiator and pipes) for Saturday morning. With temperatures still in the low 30’s it was quite nice to be working in a dark hall, and N took to wearing nothing but a pair of long brown shorts, and looked like something out of a war film. My previous experience of wallpapering was sketchy and I had imagined his was more, although in retrospect perhaps not! but I think we made a fairly good job of it, given the very bumpy walls in some places. We developed a fine team; he would hold the paper up to the ceiling, I would cut, then I would paste (on the dining room table) he would fold and hang, each of us would brush flat (once we had two brushes) and I would trim along the bottom and anywhere else necessary. I also found new skills I didn’t know I had, cutting paper around light switches, electric points and the phone socket. It all looks wonderfully clean and light, and the cream paper goes well with the off-white paint. We made a good start on the floor yesterday afternoon; I hoovered and N washed down with the anti-glue stuff - it is beginning to look almost normal. I shall clean all the paintwork tomorrow. Fortunately the dining room table is beginning to look almost normal again too, after several washes all the paste has finally gone.
In between times N has assembled all the bookshelves, completely soaking a shirt with sweat on one day, and today I have finally finished sorting the books on to them. The difference in the grande pièce is amazing; at last there are no more Abels boxes in there! As N says, at first we had no idea what we were going to do with this huge empty space; now it is a beautifully furnished very pleasant room. And it gets the evening sunshine. Apart from the bookshelves there is the larger of the two Italian sideboards, the matching dining table with six of the chairs (the other two are outside in the corridor) the Cambridge sofa, TV and golden trolley.
I have re-framed several pictures with the backing paper; two small ones for the downstairs shower room and some from an Italian calendar with old advertising posters. The shower room also now has a blue-grey mat with dolphins on from our « Italian collection»; N said he was pleased to see them again. Apart from the leak (see above!) it is now really, really finished, and I am still amazed at how good it looks every day when I come downstairs.
I have also begun researching bedding ready for all our August guests; have counted the spare pillows (nine) and looked out and washed four monogrammed lace trimmed Italian cotton sheets ready for the two double guest beds. They can‘t have seen the light of day for at least ten years, and looked very happy on the line in the sunshine.
The high temperatures mean that every day we have breakfast on the terrace under the green parasol, and every night sleep with the French windows in the bedroom wide open. There was one night when there was rain and thunder and a sudden smell of wet carpet so we had to close them, but the water butt was half full in the morning. The same night I was witness to a terrible shouted argument by the couple next door; when N woke up I recounted to him what I had heard to him, then promptly fell asleep. The next morning I had forgotten it but he could remember every word! Usually it is just their dogs we hear, and with that and the church bells and the traffic it is far from a peaceful country existence. Earlier in the week there was terrible noise one afternoon which turned out to be the demolition of a wall over the road next door to Marie-Antoinette; she had mentioned that there were plans to build houses there. Fortunately she seems to be away this week!
On Thursday morning I finally rang Monsieur A to ask about when the electrician might be coming. He had either forgotten or been extremely busy - perhaps both - and agreed when I said I presumed it now wouldn’t be before Tuesday. As often, he asked me to remind him what exactly still needed doing, so I read out the list, confusing as a lot of the things on it had been agreed between N and Emanuel. Monsieur A eventually said he would give us a call the day before, and asked if we would be about on Monday, so all we can do is hope for the best. It does make trying to plan anything rather difficult; we can never decide to go anywhere until after about 9 in the morning.
About half an hour later the phone rang and I wondered if Monsieur A had suddenly had a change of plan, but it was a message to check whether our bookshelves could be delivered next Tuesday. I of course said yes; this was good news as we thought it wouldn’t be before the end of July. We then decided to go out to Bernay, to get the « nose »; the French expression for the right-angled plastic strip to go over the step between the newly lino-ed bathroom and the hall. N also needed yet more narrow strips of wood, this time for his latest project - fitting window frames round the little outside windows on the staircase. The plan was also to call in at Lapeyre to get the sanitising product I had ordered; in all the excitement of the bookshelves I forgot to take the receipt with me; I needn’t have worried, Vincent remembered me and the plastic container had my name stuck down the side in very large letters.
We called at the Intermarché supermarket and at the garden centre as usual; N was looking for spring onion seeds and seeing about a service for the lawn mower. I wanted to get another green hanging plant for the verandah having found a nice hanging container in the potting shed which I felt should be used, but got waylaid looking at garden tables. (While having lunch at our little square table under the pine tree over the last few days we had realised that if we wanted to have lunch out there when N’s family come in August - when there will be eight of us for several days - we were going to have to make different arrangements; either a plank and trestles or an inexpensive white plastic table which could stay out in all weathers, together with an assortment of existing chairs.) The table I saw - lightweight white plastic with an extra leaf which meant it could seat eight - was part of an special offer; with the table and six armchairs there was a free « bain de soleil », a lounging bed with adjustable back and two wheels behind to move it round. When N saw the table he decided it was just the thing, and said we ought to have a long cushion for the bed - we chose green and white stripes to match the Italian parasol - once again it was the last one left in the sale, and they said they could deliver on Saturday afternoon. We were rather exhilarated by such a large impulse buy, and suddenly discovered that the garden centre was closing for lunch, and I only just had enough time to buy my hanging ivy.
This I hung from a convenient nail on the verandah rafters while N was having a siesta - he didn’t notice it until a few days later. I think it makes the verandah look more like a conservatory, and am pleased I can see it from the kitchen.
On Thursday evening we went to the first of several local events to celebrate the national holiday on 14 July. It was an evening « Foire à Tout » at Rugles; at least we had seen several advertised, but this was the only one we have got to, as it has been so hot. I have seen Rugles fairly regularly as the bus to L’Aigle goes through it, but N hadn’t been since we were viewing in September, and I enjoyed seeing the same route in the early evening instead of the morning. It was a small fair in a field with the usual mix of collectors’ items, market traders and people trying to get rid of their own junk, but almost immediately we found and bought a large rectangular gilt-framed mirror for 15 euros; we hadn’t thought where we would put it but I think we both felt that if we had seen this first we would not have bought the more expensive one we have over the fireplace! N took it back to the car straight away and we think now it might go over the chest of drawers in the back hall once it has been repapered, to replace a smaller one from Cambridge. I then saw him in deep discussion with a man trying to sell him a violin made in Germany in 1919 by a French prisoner of war; he didn’t buy it. I bought two little white candlesticks in the shape of hands, a brown pottery jug and - at N’s insistence - a chamber pot inscribed with « Vive la Mariée! » He seems to think that when we have a house full of guests some of them might like to use chamber pots in their rooms, but I am not so sure. We also spent some time talking to a man selling various sets of weights; I need some as I have balance scales with weights in pounds and ounces and need a metric set, but all of his were either too heavy (garden vegetables) or too light (medicinal) and none appropriate for the kitchen.
After viewing the main streets of Rugles and not finding anywhere suitable to have dinner, we went home and N made a potato soufflé omelette which he has been promising to do for some time, and very good it was too. We were just about to eat it when we had a call from Nigel Palmer in Saint-Denis - the film translator who had been to lunch with his wife - saying that if we had been in Paris they would have invited us to go and see the quatorze juillet fireworks with them. But, as he said, we were in « the summer palace », and they would invite us soon, and I said that they should come here to the summer palace and see us.
On the morning of Friday, the quatorze juillet itself, we started the day with a discussion about revolution and monarchy; N didn’t feel that the revolution should be celebrated, I thought that it was the republic which was being celebrated. We watched quite lot of the Champs Elysées procession on television, comparing it with the Trooping of the Colour which we had both seen while in Britain, the Soviet May Day parade and a similar (to the French) Italian national day parade we had seen on TV a few years ago. I was keen to see La Neuve-Lyre’s ceremony, having seen it advertised on poster - leaving from outside the Mairie at 11.30. It was similar to the event on May 8; and was at the same time very amusing and very moving. A small procession led by a couple of anciens combattants with banners, followed by the mayor and a group of about 30 or so inhabitants - mostly over 60 - left the Mairie and walked to the War Memorial, in the next square, opposite the Post Office. I watched from the other side of the road. There was much cheek kissing and shaking of hands as people recognised each other in the group. The mayor spoke into a microphone, thanked everybody for coming and said that we were here to commemorate the anniversary of the storming of the Bastille and switched on a nearby tape recorder from which issued a very tinny fanfare. Suddenly the volunteer firemen drove up in their van - according to the poster they should have been there from the beginning - and hurriedly dismounted, adjusted their helmets and got into line (they always make me think of Camberwick Green) and marched up to the War Memorial with their banner. The mayor then gave most of his speech again, somebody laid a wreath, we had a minute silence (during which the traffic continued to rush past) and the mayor announced The Marseillaise and switched his tape recorder on again. It was a very scratchy orchestral recording, so fast and sung by such a high tenor that I wondered if it was at the right speed. I had assumed this might be for everybody to join in the singing, but they just listened. The mayor then announced that the same ceremony would now take place at La Vieille-Lyre and everybody started moving off; I went quickly round to the boulangerie, where I was interested see on a poster that the Vieille-Lyre ceremony was due to start at 12.45; it was by then already 12.50.
The rest of the day felt like a Saturday, and in the evening we watched excerpts from President Chirac’s interview, including what he had said to Zidane and what Zidane had said to him.
On Saturday afternoon the garden table, chairs and lounging bed were delivered at about 3; I had a phone call first from the driver who said hadn’t he been to our house before, and fitted up a water butt? I agreed, and when he arrived we recognised each other and I said that it was the day of the snow when he had been here. N hadn’t met him before, but as it was he who had delivered the lawn mower asked him if he could take it back to the garden centre for its service; to save us taking it both ways, to which he happily agreed. He assembled the lounging bed for us, very good with its green & white cushion matching the parasol; the terrace looks more and more like a hotel.
Once he had gone we arranged all the chairs and had a ceremonial First Tea at the table, as N said, rather Mad Hatter’s Tea Party, with just the two of us at one end. I tried all my largest tablecloths on it but none was long enough; we did find however a rather stained plastic one from Italy which just covered it and which we decided to leave clipped on for protection. I must go back to the stall at L’Aigle market where I got the excellent stain-resistant round one (in almost constant use) and see if I can get one large enough; the table is 2 metres 20 long.
Monday 17 July 2006
We decided that during the winter all the garden furniture - old and new - would have to be stored in the second outhouse. So far this has just served as a store for empty cardboard boxes, and has thus been known as The Box Office; all the moving boxes from Abels and from Traslochi plus boxes from all the appliances we have bought. We hadn’t explored it much; I just have memories of going there on dark January and February days in my coat, throwing in the boxes and getting back indoors in the warm. Over the last few days N has cleared it completely, flattening all the boxes out on the grass and sweeping it all out, evicting several dozen spiders, removing rusty nails from the walls and leaving the door and window open to dry it out. This morning we have put all the boxes in the loft over the woodshed, just in case they ever come in useful, and have spent a lot of time wondering what The Box Office was originally built for; possibly a gardener’s or groom’s quarters - there seems to be evidence of a stove in the corner, and before that a brick fireplace, and at the bottom of the original outside door a cat (or dog) hole! N has great plans for re-plastering the remaining outbuildings and making them habitable, who or what for, we are not sure. While sweeping out the scruffy ante-room in between the Potting Shed and the Orange Studio he pulled out a piece of newspaper stuffed behind a beam and found it was dated 1935.
At the back of The Box Office we found a large bright blue flower pot which had been on the terrace when we arrived; I didn’t like the colour then and don’t like it any more now so N suggested I paint it white. It has had one coat today and already looks much better. I said it might end up looking fashionably old and distressed, and he said yes, just like he does.
Just as we were going to sleep on Saturday night we heard explosions and remembered a poster we had seen for Fireworks at La Neuve-Lyre at 11.30 pm, so got up and watched them for a few minutes from the front bedroom window. A very different experience from Britain on a cold November early evening.
Over the last week the days have got steadily hotter; the sky has been cloudless for days, both on the weather map and in reality. We have now been back here 15 days, the longest we have been in one place for some time, and enjoying it. N is anxiously watering the brown lawns with the sprinkler, and taking long siestas in the early afternoons. I have been enjoying the sun - especially with the new sun bed! - but since yesterday it is too hot even for me, and I am finding it best to be indoors at the computer in the early afternoon. In between times N has finished the window frames on the little stair windows, and replaced the warped skirting board in the smaller attic. This morning he has started stripping the wallpaper in the back hall - one of the last large projects on our list! (Along with the bookshelves but they are coming tomorrow. It is difficult to imagine when I look at the majority of my books stacked under the sideboard in the grande pièce for several months, that this time next week they could be neatly accessible on shelves!) We have moved the furniture out of the back hall into the salon. I have been assisting in all these projects (which usually means hoovering up afterwards) and catching up with washing and ironing when it isn’t too hot. I have also given a final good clean and scrape to the tiles in the downstairs shower room. I feel I have neglected my turnips recently, they look at me accusingly whenever I go into the first outhouse, I look on them as a kind of penance of which I should do so many each day.
Saturday 22 July 2006
No turnips frozen at all recently, I’m afraid, although we have cooked and eaten a few. We seem to have been working almost non-stop over the last few days, and it is difficult to remember what it was like to go out anywhere that wasn’t for garden equipment, DIY or the supermarket. We have achieved an enormous amount however; the back hall is all papered, plus a little frieze round the top; the bookshelves arrived and have been assembled with all my books (and some of N’s) in them. N has begun work on the little bookcase/china cabinet in the dining room - it originally had a glass front many years ago and he is going to fit Perspex in it instead, and has already mended a shelf support. We have also repaired torn wallpaper on the top attic stairs with some we found here in a cupboard. Emanuel the electrician finally turned up on Friday, and was here all day; strange to see him in summer mode in shorts with a large bottle of water. He tidied up the fuse boxes in the boiler room and verandah, fitted electric points in the verandah and outhouses, mended a light in the verandah, and fitted a sensor to an elegant light outside the first outhouse so that when we go to fetch things from the freezer in there on winter nights the light will come on as we approach. This will be very good; as Emanuel says, winter is long. He has finally fitted one of the neon lights in the atelier, plus two electric points, so at last we can see properly in there. The other is for the garage, and Monsieur A has just confirmed that Emanuel will be coming back on Monday to finish it then. This is a great relief - it seems that every time he has been before, it is a long time before he gets back again to continue where he left off. And this should be the last time.
On Tuesday I took the bus to L’Aigle market again, with three main objectives in mind; backing paper for my picture framing, a long tablecloth for the new garden table and the re-framing of a sampler. I had seen just the shop for sampler next door to the curtain shop. There were still road works and I had to go all the way to L’Aigle station and walk back to the town (obligatory visit to the shoe warehouse on the way) so not so much time as usual. The sampler framing and the tablecloth went well; I collect the sampler in September and the cloth is plenty long enough with a pattern of cherries all over it! but the art shop was closed for annual holidays. It was very hot on Tuesday morning (30 degrees in L‘Aigle) and my basket was heavy with camembert, ham and strawberries; I felt like Little Red Riding Hood using the cloth to cover them all up. I also had long flowers from the flower market, so was not at all pleased when the bus home drove straight past me without stopping. The driver was training a learner driver and not looking in my direction at all. I phoned N who kindly came to collect me; after another half an hour waiting in the sun. Nothing is ever simple; I thought I had found a shady nice pavement café in the square so that I could see him coming - but they were only serving meals and suggested I went to the hotel bar. This I did, continually jumping up to look out of the window, but N eventually arrived and at least I had had a drink. We ended up having lunch at about 2 o’clock; N had made a wonderful salade niçoise.
While we were wall-papering on Wednesday afternoon Monsieur P called with his assistant to mend the fastening on the salon window, so that it now won’t blow open in a gale or let in draughts. He had suggested before that we might like to visit his workshop and see our louvred shutters being made - I think he wanted us to realise just why they were so expensive - and said would we like to come on Thursday at midday. This we did; only the second time we had ever been there, and once again very interesting. We saw all the side frames of the shutters and the slanting central pieces with all the notches precisely cut. I said I couldn’t imagine measuring and cutting them by hand, thinking of the 1850’s when the original ones would have been made, and Monsieur P said he had done it that way when he was an apprentice! He gave us an off-cut as a souvenir, and we wished him a good holiday, off on Saturday morning towards the Pyrenees so that he can do some cycling. We are not sure if there is a Madame P; need to know this if we are to invite him to dinner, which we are considering.
On Thursday afternoon we had a very efficient trip to Bernay - I finally got some paper to back my pictures; we called in at Lapeyre to confirm delivery of the Velux blinds for the attics and to leave a message for our Artisan to say that the downstairs loo cistern keeps leaking; we are waiting for him to get in contact. Once again Vincent recognised us, and I told Nicolas how much I was enjoying the kitchen, and he remembered the original planning of it on the computer; it’s good to be known! I wouldn’t have thought there was anything else we could possibly need at Monsieur Bricolage, but N managed to find a lot, including the large sheet of Perspex for the door of the china cabinet, lots of picture hooks for the back hall, the frieze to go round the top of the wallpaper and yet more strong liquid for getting the glue off the floor. Also, after one day’s wallpapering, we realised we could do with another wide brush and a little roller for smoothing down the joins. After a fairly modest supermarket shop, we went on to Vive le Jardin! to collect the lawn mower back from its check-up, not daring to buy any compost or anything else as there was barely room for us in the car.
We finished most of our wallpapering on Friday leaving the final most difficult bit (round the radiator and pipes) for Saturday morning. With temperatures still in the low 30’s it was quite nice to be working in a dark hall, and N took to wearing nothing but a pair of long brown shorts, and looked like something out of a war film. My previous experience of wallpapering was sketchy and I had imagined his was more, although in retrospect perhaps not! but I think we made a fairly good job of it, given the very bumpy walls in some places. We developed a fine team; he would hold the paper up to the ceiling, I would cut, then I would paste (on the dining room table) he would fold and hang, each of us would brush flat (once we had two brushes) and I would trim along the bottom and anywhere else necessary. I also found new skills I didn’t know I had, cutting paper around light switches, electric points and the phone socket. It all looks wonderfully clean and light, and the cream paper goes well with the off-white paint. We made a good start on the floor yesterday afternoon; I hoovered and N washed down with the anti-glue stuff - it is beginning to look almost normal. I shall clean all the paintwork tomorrow. Fortunately the dining room table is beginning to look almost normal again too, after several washes all the paste has finally gone.
In between times N has assembled all the bookshelves, completely soaking a shirt with sweat on one day, and today I have finally finished sorting the books on to them. The difference in the grande pièce is amazing; at last there are no more Abels boxes in there! As N says, at first we had no idea what we were going to do with this huge empty space; now it is a beautifully furnished very pleasant room. And it gets the evening sunshine. Apart from the bookshelves there is the larger of the two Italian sideboards, the matching dining table with six of the chairs (the other two are outside in the corridor) the Cambridge sofa, TV and golden trolley.
I have re-framed several pictures with the backing paper; two small ones for the downstairs shower room and some from an Italian calendar with old advertising posters. The shower room also now has a blue-grey mat with dolphins on from our « Italian collection»; N said he was pleased to see them again. Apart from the leak (see above!) it is now really, really finished, and I am still amazed at how good it looks every day when I come downstairs.
I have also begun researching bedding ready for all our August guests; have counted the spare pillows (nine) and looked out and washed four monogrammed lace trimmed Italian cotton sheets ready for the two double guest beds. They can‘t have seen the light of day for at least ten years, and looked very happy on the line in the sunshine.
The high temperatures mean that every day we have breakfast on the terrace under the green parasol, and every night sleep with the French windows in the bedroom wide open. There was one night when there was rain and thunder and a sudden smell of wet carpet so we had to close them, but the water butt was half full in the morning. The same night I was witness to a terrible shouted argument by the couple next door; when N woke up I recounted to him what I had heard to him, then promptly fell asleep. The next morning I had forgotten it but he could remember every word! Usually it is just their dogs we hear, and with that and the church bells and the traffic it is far from a peaceful country existence. Earlier in the week there was terrible noise one afternoon which turned out to be the demolition of a wall over the road next door to Marie-Antoinette; she had mentioned that there were plans to build houses there. Fortunately she seems to be away this week!
# posted by Chez Katherine @ 12:22 PM 
