Friday, June 15, 2007
Saturday 2 June 2007
Before we set off for the UK two and a half weeks ago there were two very important events. Firstly, N succeeded in getting tickets for one of only two performances of West Side Story in Paris, for January 1st next - what a way to start the year! (Unfortunately he has since mislaid them, and has looked everywhere he can think of at least twice, so has contacted the Châtelet theatre regarding some replacements.)
The other event was the arrival in the post of a digital camera for me as my birthday present from N just a couple of days before we left. I had very little time to familiarise myself with it, but did my best and we even managed to get one or two photos on to the computer. Two of the people we stayed with on our travels had similar cameras, so I was able to learn a little more from them.
We were away about nine days in all, staying in three different places and visiting several more, and experiencing the entire gamut of British weather. Arriving in Dover in the early afternoon we drove westwards a good way along the south coast through lots of English seaside in the summer sunshine - Folkestone, Hastings, Rye, Arundel; and I got very excited at the sight of English street signs, red post boxes and a cricket match. At Portsmouth we took the ferry to the Isle of Wight (the first time I had ever been there) and stayed for a couple of days with N’s Auntie who lives in sheltered accommodation, in a guest room complete with TV and kettle; I had forgotten this useful English amenity. I enjoyed getting to know her and the island - « unspoilt » was the word which kept coming to mind - and the weather was perfect; English summer at its best, warm and sunny. We visited Osborn House, at least I did; they explored the gardens, and then we all had a ride in a carriage pulled by a horse, a thing I had never done before. When the passenger sitting beside the driver got off, I climbed up to sit next to her - a most interesting experience, high up looking at the horse’s back and the speed altering at the whim of the horse. After lunch in a wonderful traditional restaurant called God’s Providence in Newport, we went on to Carisbrooke Castle, like Osborn full of school parties on end of term outings, and we stocked up with purchases in the English Heritage shop.
On the Friday morning we took a very early ferry back to Portsmouth, and drove as far as Gloucestershire to have lunch with N’s cousin Penny and family in a little village outside Nailsworth. It made me think of an Italian village; all on hills of differing levels; even the house - two ancient cottages knocked together - had part of its garden level with the roof of a one-storey wing. The house was full of antique china and clocks - some of the former used at lunch and tea - and we ate with Penny’s husband and mother, another of N’s aunts. In between we all went for a walk to see her cottage, a little up the hill in the same village. There was also a large friendly dog, whom they insisted was still a puppy! We came away with instructions for an excellent Nut Roast, an old family recipe which N remembered from his childhood, and then made our way on to N’s daughter Claire in Worcester where we had stayed last summer, arriving in time for a supper which bore an uncanny resemblance to the lunch we had just eaten, although both were very tasty! We especially enjoyed the variety of English cheeses.
In Worcester the weather deteriorated; but I was able to get lots of essential English shopping done on the Saturday morning - at Lakeland, Marks & Spencer’s, Dorothy Perkins and Boots, including having photos developed within an hour from both our cameras (the last time for me.) In the afternoon we all went to Tewkesbury, including a compulsory visit to the Abbey, memorable both for the sound of a marvellous choir rehearsing for a concert later in the day (reminding me of rehearsing in Great St Mary’s Church in Cambridge on the afternoons before concerts) and for the jars of Tewkesbury Abbey marmalade and chutney we bought. We also came across an antiques fair, where I was pleased to find a set of napkin rings; something I had been looking for for some time. They look like ivory (but probably aren’t) and are numbered 1 to 6, except that number 4 is missing, and so should be easily understood by both French and English guests!
By Sunday it was raining very hard and showed no sign of stopping and Claire and Dan asked if we would like to visit the steam railway which runs from Kidderminster to Bridgnorth. I liked this idea tremendously - fortunately the others did too, including 3 year-old Charlotte - and we drove to Kidderminster. It rained from beginning to end, but we enjoyed the trains and different kinds of carriages and engines, and the stations with their signs, adverts, luggage, and a little rail museum. At Bridgnorth, which looked like an interesting little town if only it had been drier, we had lunch in a little pub before it was time to get the train home. Throughout I - and also N - took photos with my new camera, some while leaning out of the train window, including a particularly artistic one with telegraph poles reflected in the wet carriage amid the steam. In the evening two violinists had been invited to the house, so string quintets were played, which I enjoyed too.
On Monday morning we set off in more rain to Shenfield to visit Kathryn, John and Iona, arriving in time for lunch. We seemed to spend a lot of the afternoon reading the Sunday Times and being offered tea, cakes and then champagne, all of which was very pleasant and restful, and reminded me that guests do not always need to be taken out and shown things; we all need rest time too. (On each of our evenings at Shenfield we watched a film on DVD: The Da Vinci Code, The Pink Panther and Casino Royale.)
Tuesday was the day for my planned visit to Ipswich to catch up with my own family, cleverly managing to meet daughter Caroline at Shenfield station on the train from Liverpool Street. (A lot of trains in a few days!) Apart from visiting my mother I also had both lunch and supper in different pubs, plus a quick cup of tea at my sister Issy’s house, then back on the train to Shenfield.
Wednesday was our last full day, and various outings to London were proposed, including Kew Gardens, the British Museum and Bluewater Shopping Centre. Rain still seemed likely, so we felt Kew was out; as a compromise we spent the morning at the British Museum, followed by a quick trip to Oxford Street in the afternoon. N had not visited the museum for some years, so had not seen the new enclosed glass roof - I had seen this on a London examiners’ meeting trip - and we all (he, I, Iona & Kathryn) enjoyed seeing the Sutton Hoo Treasure and a room dedicated to the History of Money. We also enjoyed the shop, and especially lunch in the wonderful restaurant; Kathryn’s treat.
While in Oxford Street I took the opportunity to buy more bedding - I have always maintained that if I were to give one piece of advice to my daughters as they journey through life it would be to buy John Lewis bedding whenever possible. I have had some which has lasted me over 20 years and said this to the assistant who served me, who seemed agreeably surprised. I needed her help to find square pillow-cases to fit our pillows here, and ended up with four pillow-cases, a king-sized quilt cover and bottom sheet, all in plain white polyester cotton. The two sets of bedding I had originally bought at IKEA are beginning to age and are not as white as they were, and being all cotton - although very comfortable - take a lot of ironing. The new ones should be easier to iron, just as comfortable, and should last a lot longer! But they are not as pretty……
We left Shenfield for Dover on Thursday morning, stopping first of all for a large shopping spree at Braintree Sainsbury’s; N anxious to stock up with pickles, chutney, baked beans, cream of tomato soup, Marmite, cheese biscuits and tinned steak pies, and me looking for golden syrup, suet, granary bread, peanut butter (which I had rediscovered on the breakfast table at Shenfield), white wine vinegar, cornflour and curry paste. It isn’t that we don’t like French food, or find it inferior - far from it! - we just like the best of both worlds, especially home-made English cakes and puddings. I also found several packs of my usual hair colour reduced to £1.88 (instead of 9 euros) so got those too - I think they must be going out of production.
After a fish & chip lunch on Dover sea front we took the ferry home in glorious sunshine most of the way, until halfway here the sky turned very black, the temperature dropped ten degrees and we were back in torrential rain again. Even with several stops we arrived here at about 9.30, anxious to see what had happened while we had been away.
As we hoped, the painters had been and finished the front facades, which looked a lot whiter. The grass had gown enormously - all that sun and rain - and the cherries looked ripe. Lots of roses had come and gone (I had picked some the morning we left to take to Auntie Connie in the Isle of Wight; she appreciated them very much.) Both the large flowerbed and the vegetable garden had made a lot of progress; N said it was just as though someone had tipped a very large packet of Weed Seeds all over the vegetables.
Friday 8 June 2007
I seemed to spend all of last Friday walking round the house putting things away, in particular all the things from Sainsbury’s, which involved setting up a new Biscuit Cupboard, and rearranging jams and preserves and putting all the pickles and chutneys in the outhouse with the homemade ones, as there was no more room in the kitchen. On Saturday it was warm again, and we were able to have breakfast outside on the terrace for the first time this year - boiled eggs and our new English granary toast - before inspecting the garden more fully and making a quick trip to Conches, to Gamm Vert and Intermarché. (N had a voucher for a free gardening book from Gamm Vert, which expired that day. It is a lovely book, full of beautiful photographs.) I also managed to catch up with an exercise DVD and a visit to the hairdresser, after which I felt almost human again. There was of course the usual post-visit washing, cleaning and bed-changing which took up all the rest of Saturday and Sunday, as by Monday I was off again, ready to welcome our next guest.
I had made these complicated rearrangements some weeks before and had to re-read my own notes carefully! My friend Gill was arriving at the Gare du Nord on Tuesday, to stay partly in Paris and partly at LNL, so I set off on Monday lunchtime from Conches station, having been driven there by N. The fine weather seemed here to stay for a few days at least, so I was able to pack nothing more substantial than cotton jackets (and no umbrella! what a pleasure.) That morning the painters had turned up again to touch up the walls here and there, and to start cleaning the verandah roof, the low tiled roofs and the remaining garden paths with their power washer.
I arrived at the apartment at Saint-Denis mid-afternoon and after the usual unlocking of internal doors, opening windows and seeing to the thirsty - but very healthy - geraniums, I set off for Carrefour for a few essentials to tide us over a couple of days. I had forgotten C & A was nearby and was pleased I had gone in to have a look; came away with a wonderfully-fitting pair of plain white cropped trousers for 14.99 euros, all the better as I had tried on lots recently (especially in M & S) none of which fitted and all of which were far more expensive. I thought, not for the first time, that I must have a C & A-shaped bottom.
After my shopping N phoned to ask where I kept the old towels as water was coming in under all the outside doors as a result of the paths and verandah roof being pressure washed. He then phoned again to ask were I kept the details of the doctor’s phone number, as he wanted to make an appointment for the next day; he had had trouble with his back lately, and now had a pain in his foot, plus what seemed to be a cold. He said it was a good job I wasn’t there to see all the mess; he had had to remove all the troughs of busy lizzies from the verandah windowsills, together with the white table and chairs on the terrace.
I spent the evening watching a video of the film « Sense and Sensibility » (bought from a Brocante sale in Normandy, and taken to Saint-Denis as I thought, quite rightly, that there would be more time to watch it there.) The next morning I made up the little bed for Gill, tidied up the apartment and set off to meet her at the Gare du Nord.
We took her bag down to Left Luggage, and on coming up to the platform again discovered that a large central part of the station had been cordoned off by the soldiers who are always on patrol there. After some minutes there was a loud explosion and we managed to work out that an abandoned suspect suitcase had been blown up; they are constantly making announcements to this effect, so presumably this was a warning. As we were finally allowed to cross the station we saw all the damaged clothes and shoes all over the place and were hurried along by a policewoman who told us it was not « un spectacle. »
For her half-day in Paris (it was by then about 11.30) Gill wanted to visit Big Shops, so we took bus 43 to the Gare St Lazare and walked to Boulevard Haussmann, in time for lunch at Lafayette Maison, where I had previously only had tea with Madeleine and Caroline. We were early enough to get a wonderful window table looking out on to the shops and the back door of the Opéra.
After much catching up with gossip and then shopping, we went back to get Gill’s bag from the Gare du Nord and then home to Saint-Denis by RER. She was duly impressed both by the apartment and by the convent! After the TV news and a small supper, we had an early night. The next morning we locked up and set off to the Gare St Lazare by metro, from where we took the train to Conches, where N was waiting for us with the car. He was not really very well however, and was sorry not to have been able to prepare salade niçoise as he had promised. I made lunch while he showed Gill round the outbuildings, and we then ate in the garden, the only day during her brief stay when it was sunny enough.
The parts of the house and garden which had been cleaned - the paths, the low roof over the kitchen, dining room and grande pièce, and the verandah roof - looked much better, but almost everything else seemed to be covered in black fibres, the result of the pulverising of the black moss on the roofs; or plastered in mud where the water had hit the earth at great speed. I decided there was nothing I could do for the moment - fortunately Gill had had similar work done and knew the problems - but the verandah windows and formerly « white » flowers looked awful. The painters had asked if they could put one of their notices at the front of the house, so they have tied it to the railings, I don’t know how long for. But the façade does look nice and white, so I suppose it may get them some business!
Everything I cooked lasted twice as long as usual, as N was eating hardly anything. We had not planned to do much, fortunately, as Gill and I had spent so much time on trains and she was due to go home on yet more trains. She had a good look at all of the house, we continued to catch up on news and look at photographs and we all three watched a DVD of Midsomer Murders. Most of all, she said, she enjoyed catching up on sleep in the big Italian bed.
We took her to Conches at lunchtime today and put her on the train for Paris, then I tried to visit some Conches shops; in vain as everything was shut for lunch. The most urgent thing was a new battery for my watch; very annoying without it, although while at home in the garden I was getting quite good at telling the time from the striking of the church clock. Back home again, I decided I didn’t really want to start getting dirty this afternoon, so caught up with some ironing instead.
Thursday 14 June 2007
Saturday was warm again, and I spent much of the day trying to clear up the dirt left by the painters’ « cleaning ». It was worst all along the side of the house under the lower roof; black dirt all over the windows, window sills, plants and paths. I cleaned all four windows, plus the outside door between them and brushed down the concrete sills, gave the geraniums and herb plants a shower and swept the path. I then progressed round the corner to the verandah, and cleaned those windows, wiped the wooden sills and tried to tidy up the white busy lizzies. (They look much better now the dirty petals have fallen off and new clean ones have grown.) I then went round to the other side of the house where it wasn’t quite so bad, and wiped more windows and sills, and washed the door to the first outhouse and the single water butt - covered in splashed mud from the path cleaning. After I’d finished all this I was so hot and dirty that I gave myself a shower, hair wash, manicure and pedicure - I very rarely do all this at the same time! We both kept wishing it would rain - nothing to do with the water butts this time, but to wash away all the remaining dust and black fibres from the paths, roofs and plants. We had to wait until yesterday however, when we had several heavy showers and just a little thunder, and saw later on the TV news that in the department of Orne (just down the road at L’Aigle) there was a lot of damage done by huge hail stones!
N is still not completely well, and is having a long sleep every afternoon, as well as sleeping all night. He has since decided perhaps the UK tour was too much all at once. He also decided he might have hay fever, and has been along to the pharmacie for some medicine, and feels the better for it.
While having breakfast in the garden I suddenly saw a large ginger cat strolling past our water butt, one I have previously noticed walking round the village. We think it must be he who was responsible for chewing the holes in our rubbish bags, and for the paw-marks on the dustbin, and lately on the windscreen of the car (presumably trying to get a better look at the swallows’ nests.) N rushed to get him a saucer of milk, but he was not thirsty and ambled away. We decided he probably gets into our garden over the neighbours’ wall, behind our hedge.
On Sunday I seemed to spend almost all day dealing with cherries. We had begun to collect a few of these when Gill was with us, and had eaten them for lunch, but there were lots more ripe ones and they needed picking. The telescopic tool is quite good, we were certainly able to reach more than last year, but it tends to take off great bunches complete with leaves and twigs. We got a lot more just standing at the top of the step ladder and reaching up. The top of the step ladder has a useful hook (probably for a paint pot) which is just right for the basket with a handle, saves having someone else standing there with the basket.
After lunch while N was asleep I spent what seemed like hours stoning all the cherries ready for jam with last year’s excellent cherry stoner, but without much conviction as I already knew cherry jam was difficult, and all my recipe books told me the same. But by the end of the afternoon I had six or seven pots, a lovely colour, with nice whole shaped fruit inside. We have tried it for the first time at breakfast today; not surprisingly very runny, but very tasty. Perhaps better on ice cream or on duck.
By Monday I was looking forward to a nice ordinary typical day; the first one for some time, it seemed, after variously being in Britain, in Paris and having a guest. A typical day when we are here on our own goes like this:
We usually wake about 7.45 and whoever gets up first makes tea and coffee with the bedroom kettle. After drinking it, and some discussion, reading or listening to the radio (today N read me some Goethe) breakfast is at about 8.45 - currently in the summer in the verandah, if not warm enough for outside. If I’m doing exercises - I try to do them about every three or four days, alternating Pilates and Aerobics - this is just before breakfast. By the time I have cleared away breakfast and the kitchen, gone upstairs and tidied up the bedroom and bathroom and got myself ready for the day, it is usually about 10.30, and the next task is fetching the bread. (« Aller au pain » as they say here.) This includes any other errands in the village, to the Post Office, supermarket or butchers, but not so many trips to the Quincaillerie as when we were first here. Monday was market day, so I passed the time of day with the fish man and bought kippers and salmon fillets and went to one of the two fruit & veg stalls (I try to alternate between the two) for tomatoes, pears, strawberries and avocados. There were several clothes stalls there yesterday, and another selling tables with extensions - unbelievably from about four to twelve people. N usually starts the morning with viola practice and then reads newspapers in several different languages on the internet. After that he normally works in the garden if it is fine.
When I get back from the village there is sometimes washing to deal with if I’ve put it in the machine early, otherwise chores in the house or garden, or baking or other cooking. Lunch is at about 1.00, hopefully in the garden at the moment, if not in the verandah, and is usually bread and cheese and/or salad. In the winter we have it in the dining room, and it usually includes homemade soup.
After lunch we have a little sit down with tea and coffee (and sometimes a piece of chocolate) which is good when you’ve been on your feet all the morning, not like being at the office at all! If it’s warm we sit in the garden and talk or read; if not we watch TV, often Sherlock Holmes on the TMC channel. Occasionally, if we feel we deserve a long rest or a treat we watch a DVD. In the afternoon I spend time in my study, catching up with correspondence, e-mails and of course the Blog. I stop at about 5.00 for tea, and for a long time now we have been watching Cash in the Attic on BBC Prime over tea, which makes a good break. We both enjoy seeing what kinds of junk people have, and how much it is all worth.
Between tea and dinner I catch up on ironing, or whatever needs doing in the ironing and sewing room; yesterday I shortened two pairs of trousers, mended a skirt, patched a pillow-case and sewed on a button. The aim is always to clear the room of anything waiting to be ironed/mended/altered. I achieve it occasionally, but not often! There is usually jazz to listen to on France Musique at this time, a good accompaniment. If N is not in working in the garden (or asleep!) he is usually working at something in his study in the attic, or watching TV in Italian, Spanish or German.
At about 6.15 or 6.30 I go downstairs to prepare dinner, which we eat in the dining room at about 7 or 7.15, aiming to be finished in time to see the main TV news and weather from 7.55 to 8.40. Any prime-time programmes start after that, rather late if they are long. We rarely watch anything on the main French channels; N favours Mezzo (the classical music channel) and I was enjoying all the new film channels until I discovered in the magazine for June they are suddenly no longer listed by day and time, only alphabetically for the month. Yesterday I tried to e-mail an enquiry about this; no luck so sent my question by letter instead. We also watch Arte, the French/German channel and the History Channel, and sometimes BBC Prime, where I catch up on all sorts of excellent programmes I never had time to see in Cambridge.
On Tuesday we drove to Bernay to visit the Renault garage there; N had received a letter to the effect that all new Renaults need something seeing to - only « préventatif » the man said. We had to make an appointment for the end of the month. After that I was able at last to get a new watch battery from a useful jewellers in the main street, and also visited the little Italian delicatessen. We were able to eat my purchases for lunch in the garden, but since then the weather keeps alternating radically between heat and rain; at least most of the black dust is washed away, and the plants are appreciating it no end.
We are getting used to using our new numbered napkin rings from the antiques fair in Tewkesbury; N said he felt he should have number 1, to which I agreed only on grounds of age and height, so I have number 2 and the rest will be for guests.
Today we have picked yet more cherries, and have put them (after being stoned by N) in the large Rumtopf jar with some very strong eau de vie, or Alcool pour fruits, as it says on the bottle, bought at the village shop. There are three large peaches on our peach tree, much larger than last year, but still hard. The lettuces are growing faster than we can eat them and we have had one or two lovely little Savoy cabbages. Today we enjoyed this year’s first new potatoes for lunch, both white and purple, with lots of butter and mint, and N says there will be peas, cauliflower and broccoli by the weekend!
Before we set off for the UK two and a half weeks ago there were two very important events. Firstly, N succeeded in getting tickets for one of only two performances of West Side Story in Paris, for January 1st next - what a way to start the year! (Unfortunately he has since mislaid them, and has looked everywhere he can think of at least twice, so has contacted the Châtelet theatre regarding some replacements.)
The other event was the arrival in the post of a digital camera for me as my birthday present from N just a couple of days before we left. I had very little time to familiarise myself with it, but did my best and we even managed to get one or two photos on to the computer. Two of the people we stayed with on our travels had similar cameras, so I was able to learn a little more from them.
We were away about nine days in all, staying in three different places and visiting several more, and experiencing the entire gamut of British weather. Arriving in Dover in the early afternoon we drove westwards a good way along the south coast through lots of English seaside in the summer sunshine - Folkestone, Hastings, Rye, Arundel; and I got very excited at the sight of English street signs, red post boxes and a cricket match. At Portsmouth we took the ferry to the Isle of Wight (the first time I had ever been there) and stayed for a couple of days with N’s Auntie who lives in sheltered accommodation, in a guest room complete with TV and kettle; I had forgotten this useful English amenity. I enjoyed getting to know her and the island - « unspoilt » was the word which kept coming to mind - and the weather was perfect; English summer at its best, warm and sunny. We visited Osborn House, at least I did; they explored the gardens, and then we all had a ride in a carriage pulled by a horse, a thing I had never done before. When the passenger sitting beside the driver got off, I climbed up to sit next to her - a most interesting experience, high up looking at the horse’s back and the speed altering at the whim of the horse. After lunch in a wonderful traditional restaurant called God’s Providence in Newport, we went on to Carisbrooke Castle, like Osborn full of school parties on end of term outings, and we stocked up with purchases in the English Heritage shop.
On the Friday morning we took a very early ferry back to Portsmouth, and drove as far as Gloucestershire to have lunch with N’s cousin Penny and family in a little village outside Nailsworth. It made me think of an Italian village; all on hills of differing levels; even the house - two ancient cottages knocked together - had part of its garden level with the roof of a one-storey wing. The house was full of antique china and clocks - some of the former used at lunch and tea - and we ate with Penny’s husband and mother, another of N’s aunts. In between we all went for a walk to see her cottage, a little up the hill in the same village. There was also a large friendly dog, whom they insisted was still a puppy! We came away with instructions for an excellent Nut Roast, an old family recipe which N remembered from his childhood, and then made our way on to N’s daughter Claire in Worcester where we had stayed last summer, arriving in time for a supper which bore an uncanny resemblance to the lunch we had just eaten, although both were very tasty! We especially enjoyed the variety of English cheeses.
In Worcester the weather deteriorated; but I was able to get lots of essential English shopping done on the Saturday morning - at Lakeland, Marks & Spencer’s, Dorothy Perkins and Boots, including having photos developed within an hour from both our cameras (the last time for me.) In the afternoon we all went to Tewkesbury, including a compulsory visit to the Abbey, memorable both for the sound of a marvellous choir rehearsing for a concert later in the day (reminding me of rehearsing in Great St Mary’s Church in Cambridge on the afternoons before concerts) and for the jars of Tewkesbury Abbey marmalade and chutney we bought. We also came across an antiques fair, where I was pleased to find a set of napkin rings; something I had been looking for for some time. They look like ivory (but probably aren’t) and are numbered 1 to 6, except that number 4 is missing, and so should be easily understood by both French and English guests!
By Sunday it was raining very hard and showed no sign of stopping and Claire and Dan asked if we would like to visit the steam railway which runs from Kidderminster to Bridgnorth. I liked this idea tremendously - fortunately the others did too, including 3 year-old Charlotte - and we drove to Kidderminster. It rained from beginning to end, but we enjoyed the trains and different kinds of carriages and engines, and the stations with their signs, adverts, luggage, and a little rail museum. At Bridgnorth, which looked like an interesting little town if only it had been drier, we had lunch in a little pub before it was time to get the train home. Throughout I - and also N - took photos with my new camera, some while leaning out of the train window, including a particularly artistic one with telegraph poles reflected in the wet carriage amid the steam. In the evening two violinists had been invited to the house, so string quintets were played, which I enjoyed too.
On Monday morning we set off in more rain to Shenfield to visit Kathryn, John and Iona, arriving in time for lunch. We seemed to spend a lot of the afternoon reading the Sunday Times and being offered tea, cakes and then champagne, all of which was very pleasant and restful, and reminded me that guests do not always need to be taken out and shown things; we all need rest time too. (On each of our evenings at Shenfield we watched a film on DVD: The Da Vinci Code, The Pink Panther and Casino Royale.)
Tuesday was the day for my planned visit to Ipswich to catch up with my own family, cleverly managing to meet daughter Caroline at Shenfield station on the train from Liverpool Street. (A lot of trains in a few days!) Apart from visiting my mother I also had both lunch and supper in different pubs, plus a quick cup of tea at my sister Issy’s house, then back on the train to Shenfield.
Wednesday was our last full day, and various outings to London were proposed, including Kew Gardens, the British Museum and Bluewater Shopping Centre. Rain still seemed likely, so we felt Kew was out; as a compromise we spent the morning at the British Museum, followed by a quick trip to Oxford Street in the afternoon. N had not visited the museum for some years, so had not seen the new enclosed glass roof - I had seen this on a London examiners’ meeting trip - and we all (he, I, Iona & Kathryn) enjoyed seeing the Sutton Hoo Treasure and a room dedicated to the History of Money. We also enjoyed the shop, and especially lunch in the wonderful restaurant; Kathryn’s treat.
While in Oxford Street I took the opportunity to buy more bedding - I have always maintained that if I were to give one piece of advice to my daughters as they journey through life it would be to buy John Lewis bedding whenever possible. I have had some which has lasted me over 20 years and said this to the assistant who served me, who seemed agreeably surprised. I needed her help to find square pillow-cases to fit our pillows here, and ended up with four pillow-cases, a king-sized quilt cover and bottom sheet, all in plain white polyester cotton. The two sets of bedding I had originally bought at IKEA are beginning to age and are not as white as they were, and being all cotton - although very comfortable - take a lot of ironing. The new ones should be easier to iron, just as comfortable, and should last a lot longer! But they are not as pretty……
We left Shenfield for Dover on Thursday morning, stopping first of all for a large shopping spree at Braintree Sainsbury’s; N anxious to stock up with pickles, chutney, baked beans, cream of tomato soup, Marmite, cheese biscuits and tinned steak pies, and me looking for golden syrup, suet, granary bread, peanut butter (which I had rediscovered on the breakfast table at Shenfield), white wine vinegar, cornflour and curry paste. It isn’t that we don’t like French food, or find it inferior - far from it! - we just like the best of both worlds, especially home-made English cakes and puddings. I also found several packs of my usual hair colour reduced to £1.88 (instead of 9 euros) so got those too - I think they must be going out of production.
After a fish & chip lunch on Dover sea front we took the ferry home in glorious sunshine most of the way, until halfway here the sky turned very black, the temperature dropped ten degrees and we were back in torrential rain again. Even with several stops we arrived here at about 9.30, anxious to see what had happened while we had been away.
As we hoped, the painters had been and finished the front facades, which looked a lot whiter. The grass had gown enormously - all that sun and rain - and the cherries looked ripe. Lots of roses had come and gone (I had picked some the morning we left to take to Auntie Connie in the Isle of Wight; she appreciated them very much.) Both the large flowerbed and the vegetable garden had made a lot of progress; N said it was just as though someone had tipped a very large packet of Weed Seeds all over the vegetables.
Friday 8 June 2007
I seemed to spend all of last Friday walking round the house putting things away, in particular all the things from Sainsbury’s, which involved setting up a new Biscuit Cupboard, and rearranging jams and preserves and putting all the pickles and chutneys in the outhouse with the homemade ones, as there was no more room in the kitchen. On Saturday it was warm again, and we were able to have breakfast outside on the terrace for the first time this year - boiled eggs and our new English granary toast - before inspecting the garden more fully and making a quick trip to Conches, to Gamm Vert and Intermarché. (N had a voucher for a free gardening book from Gamm Vert, which expired that day. It is a lovely book, full of beautiful photographs.) I also managed to catch up with an exercise DVD and a visit to the hairdresser, after which I felt almost human again. There was of course the usual post-visit washing, cleaning and bed-changing which took up all the rest of Saturday and Sunday, as by Monday I was off again, ready to welcome our next guest.
I had made these complicated rearrangements some weeks before and had to re-read my own notes carefully! My friend Gill was arriving at the Gare du Nord on Tuesday, to stay partly in Paris and partly at LNL, so I set off on Monday lunchtime from Conches station, having been driven there by N. The fine weather seemed here to stay for a few days at least, so I was able to pack nothing more substantial than cotton jackets (and no umbrella! what a pleasure.) That morning the painters had turned up again to touch up the walls here and there, and to start cleaning the verandah roof, the low tiled roofs and the remaining garden paths with their power washer.
I arrived at the apartment at Saint-Denis mid-afternoon and after the usual unlocking of internal doors, opening windows and seeing to the thirsty - but very healthy - geraniums, I set off for Carrefour for a few essentials to tide us over a couple of days. I had forgotten C & A was nearby and was pleased I had gone in to have a look; came away with a wonderfully-fitting pair of plain white cropped trousers for 14.99 euros, all the better as I had tried on lots recently (especially in M & S) none of which fitted and all of which were far more expensive. I thought, not for the first time, that I must have a C & A-shaped bottom.
After my shopping N phoned to ask where I kept the old towels as water was coming in under all the outside doors as a result of the paths and verandah roof being pressure washed. He then phoned again to ask were I kept the details of the doctor’s phone number, as he wanted to make an appointment for the next day; he had had trouble with his back lately, and now had a pain in his foot, plus what seemed to be a cold. He said it was a good job I wasn’t there to see all the mess; he had had to remove all the troughs of busy lizzies from the verandah windowsills, together with the white table and chairs on the terrace.
I spent the evening watching a video of the film « Sense and Sensibility » (bought from a Brocante sale in Normandy, and taken to Saint-Denis as I thought, quite rightly, that there would be more time to watch it there.) The next morning I made up the little bed for Gill, tidied up the apartment and set off to meet her at the Gare du Nord.
We took her bag down to Left Luggage, and on coming up to the platform again discovered that a large central part of the station had been cordoned off by the soldiers who are always on patrol there. After some minutes there was a loud explosion and we managed to work out that an abandoned suspect suitcase had been blown up; they are constantly making announcements to this effect, so presumably this was a warning. As we were finally allowed to cross the station we saw all the damaged clothes and shoes all over the place and were hurried along by a policewoman who told us it was not « un spectacle. »
For her half-day in Paris (it was by then about 11.30) Gill wanted to visit Big Shops, so we took bus 43 to the Gare St Lazare and walked to Boulevard Haussmann, in time for lunch at Lafayette Maison, where I had previously only had tea with Madeleine and Caroline. We were early enough to get a wonderful window table looking out on to the shops and the back door of the Opéra.
After much catching up with gossip and then shopping, we went back to get Gill’s bag from the Gare du Nord and then home to Saint-Denis by RER. She was duly impressed both by the apartment and by the convent! After the TV news and a small supper, we had an early night. The next morning we locked up and set off to the Gare St Lazare by metro, from where we took the train to Conches, where N was waiting for us with the car. He was not really very well however, and was sorry not to have been able to prepare salade niçoise as he had promised. I made lunch while he showed Gill round the outbuildings, and we then ate in the garden, the only day during her brief stay when it was sunny enough.
The parts of the house and garden which had been cleaned - the paths, the low roof over the kitchen, dining room and grande pièce, and the verandah roof - looked much better, but almost everything else seemed to be covered in black fibres, the result of the pulverising of the black moss on the roofs; or plastered in mud where the water had hit the earth at great speed. I decided there was nothing I could do for the moment - fortunately Gill had had similar work done and knew the problems - but the verandah windows and formerly « white » flowers looked awful. The painters had asked if they could put one of their notices at the front of the house, so they have tied it to the railings, I don’t know how long for. But the façade does look nice and white, so I suppose it may get them some business!
Everything I cooked lasted twice as long as usual, as N was eating hardly anything. We had not planned to do much, fortunately, as Gill and I had spent so much time on trains and she was due to go home on yet more trains. She had a good look at all of the house, we continued to catch up on news and look at photographs and we all three watched a DVD of Midsomer Murders. Most of all, she said, she enjoyed catching up on sleep in the big Italian bed.
We took her to Conches at lunchtime today and put her on the train for Paris, then I tried to visit some Conches shops; in vain as everything was shut for lunch. The most urgent thing was a new battery for my watch; very annoying without it, although while at home in the garden I was getting quite good at telling the time from the striking of the church clock. Back home again, I decided I didn’t really want to start getting dirty this afternoon, so caught up with some ironing instead.
Thursday 14 June 2007
Saturday was warm again, and I spent much of the day trying to clear up the dirt left by the painters’ « cleaning ». It was worst all along the side of the house under the lower roof; black dirt all over the windows, window sills, plants and paths. I cleaned all four windows, plus the outside door between them and brushed down the concrete sills, gave the geraniums and herb plants a shower and swept the path. I then progressed round the corner to the verandah, and cleaned those windows, wiped the wooden sills and tried to tidy up the white busy lizzies. (They look much better now the dirty petals have fallen off and new clean ones have grown.) I then went round to the other side of the house where it wasn’t quite so bad, and wiped more windows and sills, and washed the door to the first outhouse and the single water butt - covered in splashed mud from the path cleaning. After I’d finished all this I was so hot and dirty that I gave myself a shower, hair wash, manicure and pedicure - I very rarely do all this at the same time! We both kept wishing it would rain - nothing to do with the water butts this time, but to wash away all the remaining dust and black fibres from the paths, roofs and plants. We had to wait until yesterday however, when we had several heavy showers and just a little thunder, and saw later on the TV news that in the department of Orne (just down the road at L’Aigle) there was a lot of damage done by huge hail stones!
N is still not completely well, and is having a long sleep every afternoon, as well as sleeping all night. He has since decided perhaps the UK tour was too much all at once. He also decided he might have hay fever, and has been along to the pharmacie for some medicine, and feels the better for it.
While having breakfast in the garden I suddenly saw a large ginger cat strolling past our water butt, one I have previously noticed walking round the village. We think it must be he who was responsible for chewing the holes in our rubbish bags, and for the paw-marks on the dustbin, and lately on the windscreen of the car (presumably trying to get a better look at the swallows’ nests.) N rushed to get him a saucer of milk, but he was not thirsty and ambled away. We decided he probably gets into our garden over the neighbours’ wall, behind our hedge.
On Sunday I seemed to spend almost all day dealing with cherries. We had begun to collect a few of these when Gill was with us, and had eaten them for lunch, but there were lots more ripe ones and they needed picking. The telescopic tool is quite good, we were certainly able to reach more than last year, but it tends to take off great bunches complete with leaves and twigs. We got a lot more just standing at the top of the step ladder and reaching up. The top of the step ladder has a useful hook (probably for a paint pot) which is just right for the basket with a handle, saves having someone else standing there with the basket.
After lunch while N was asleep I spent what seemed like hours stoning all the cherries ready for jam with last year’s excellent cherry stoner, but without much conviction as I already knew cherry jam was difficult, and all my recipe books told me the same. But by the end of the afternoon I had six or seven pots, a lovely colour, with nice whole shaped fruit inside. We have tried it for the first time at breakfast today; not surprisingly very runny, but very tasty. Perhaps better on ice cream or on duck.
By Monday I was looking forward to a nice ordinary typical day; the first one for some time, it seemed, after variously being in Britain, in Paris and having a guest. A typical day when we are here on our own goes like this:
We usually wake about 7.45 and whoever gets up first makes tea and coffee with the bedroom kettle. After drinking it, and some discussion, reading or listening to the radio (today N read me some Goethe) breakfast is at about 8.45 - currently in the summer in the verandah, if not warm enough for outside. If I’m doing exercises - I try to do them about every three or four days, alternating Pilates and Aerobics - this is just before breakfast. By the time I have cleared away breakfast and the kitchen, gone upstairs and tidied up the bedroom and bathroom and got myself ready for the day, it is usually about 10.30, and the next task is fetching the bread. (« Aller au pain » as they say here.) This includes any other errands in the village, to the Post Office, supermarket or butchers, but not so many trips to the Quincaillerie as when we were first here. Monday was market day, so I passed the time of day with the fish man and bought kippers and salmon fillets and went to one of the two fruit & veg stalls (I try to alternate between the two) for tomatoes, pears, strawberries and avocados. There were several clothes stalls there yesterday, and another selling tables with extensions - unbelievably from about four to twelve people. N usually starts the morning with viola practice and then reads newspapers in several different languages on the internet. After that he normally works in the garden if it is fine.
When I get back from the village there is sometimes washing to deal with if I’ve put it in the machine early, otherwise chores in the house or garden, or baking or other cooking. Lunch is at about 1.00, hopefully in the garden at the moment, if not in the verandah, and is usually bread and cheese and/or salad. In the winter we have it in the dining room, and it usually includes homemade soup.
After lunch we have a little sit down with tea and coffee (and sometimes a piece of chocolate) which is good when you’ve been on your feet all the morning, not like being at the office at all! If it’s warm we sit in the garden and talk or read; if not we watch TV, often Sherlock Holmes on the TMC channel. Occasionally, if we feel we deserve a long rest or a treat we watch a DVD. In the afternoon I spend time in my study, catching up with correspondence, e-mails and of course the Blog. I stop at about 5.00 for tea, and for a long time now we have been watching Cash in the Attic on BBC Prime over tea, which makes a good break. We both enjoy seeing what kinds of junk people have, and how much it is all worth.
Between tea and dinner I catch up on ironing, or whatever needs doing in the ironing and sewing room; yesterday I shortened two pairs of trousers, mended a skirt, patched a pillow-case and sewed on a button. The aim is always to clear the room of anything waiting to be ironed/mended/altered. I achieve it occasionally, but not often! There is usually jazz to listen to on France Musique at this time, a good accompaniment. If N is not in working in the garden (or asleep!) he is usually working at something in his study in the attic, or watching TV in Italian, Spanish or German.
At about 6.15 or 6.30 I go downstairs to prepare dinner, which we eat in the dining room at about 7 or 7.15, aiming to be finished in time to see the main TV news and weather from 7.55 to 8.40. Any prime-time programmes start after that, rather late if they are long. We rarely watch anything on the main French channels; N favours Mezzo (the classical music channel) and I was enjoying all the new film channels until I discovered in the magazine for June they are suddenly no longer listed by day and time, only alphabetically for the month. Yesterday I tried to e-mail an enquiry about this; no luck so sent my question by letter instead. We also watch Arte, the French/German channel and the History Channel, and sometimes BBC Prime, where I catch up on all sorts of excellent programmes I never had time to see in Cambridge.
On Tuesday we drove to Bernay to visit the Renault garage there; N had received a letter to the effect that all new Renaults need something seeing to - only « préventatif » the man said. We had to make an appointment for the end of the month. After that I was able at last to get a new watch battery from a useful jewellers in the main street, and also visited the little Italian delicatessen. We were able to eat my purchases for lunch in the garden, but since then the weather keeps alternating radically between heat and rain; at least most of the black dust is washed away, and the plants are appreciating it no end.
We are getting used to using our new numbered napkin rings from the antiques fair in Tewkesbury; N said he felt he should have number 1, to which I agreed only on grounds of age and height, so I have number 2 and the rest will be for guests.
Today we have picked yet more cherries, and have put them (after being stoned by N) in the large Rumtopf jar with some very strong eau de vie, or Alcool pour fruits, as it says on the bottle, bought at the village shop. There are three large peaches on our peach tree, much larger than last year, but still hard. The lettuces are growing faster than we can eat them and we have had one or two lovely little Savoy cabbages. Today we enjoyed this year’s first new potatoes for lunch, both white and purple, with lots of butter and mint, and N says there will be peas, cauliflower and broccoli by the weekend!
# posted by Chez Katherine @ 7:30 AM 
