Sunday, December 16, 2007
Monday 10 December 2007
After seeing Madeleine and Caroline off at the Gare du Nord it was nice to be on our own again, and we began to wonder when we would receive the valuation for the apartment, and what it would be. I had a list of things I wanted to get done before the arrival of the next visitors on Friday; one of the most important was the Christmas cards. I had brought from LNL the labels, envelopes and stamps and having got the cards themselves in Bon Marché and finished the newsletter to go inside them, got them all in the post in Friday morning. All the making-up of beds and cleaning and tidying was done on Friday morning, too. I also went along to a picture framer N had recommended near the Basilique, with my poster of coffee and cakes from Vienna and an old gilt frame from the Italian house. The framer will add some glass and a border, and I can collect it when we go back at the beginning of January.
On Tuesday morning N had sent an e-mail to the estate agents asking if the valuation was ready and whether he could come and fetch it (he wanted to avoid it going in the post, where it would have automatically been forwarded to LNL along with the rest of his mail.) They said it would be ready that afternoon, so after going shopping together to get more family Christmas presents in the Virgin Megastore we went along and collected the valuation, which was considerably higher than N had thought it would be, in fact two and a half times what he paid for the apartment 10 years ago! (Taking into account the change from francs to euros.) This not surprisingly put him in a very good frame of mind for the rest of the day; in fact a Good bottle of wine was opened for dinner, and different and more expensive pages of the house magazines were consulted.
After much discussion and looking at maps and the house magazines themselves, we had decided that the best areas for a new apartment were those in the west or north-west of Paris, the right side for getting to and fro from Normandy. The western suburbs around the bend in the Seine are also the most desirable and expensive; we're not sure if this is a good or a bad thing! However there seem to be a good number to choose from with 2 or 3 bedrooms, about 70 or 80 m2 of floor space, a modern kitchen and bathroom, a garage or parking underground, a balcony, cellar, storage and nearby trains and shops, in the right price bracket. (Inevitably, perhaps, we are finding lots of words and especially abbreviations which were not included in the latest edition of the Lexique, and think we should begin to note these for the next edition.) We are both excited at the thought of a new “project”; the new verandah door at LNL is the last large (expensive!) thing needed there, and there is not so much to do and think about as there was when we first arrived.
Space is important - originally N thought of taking the grand piano to LNL, and perhaps some of the vast number of books, but has now decided he wants to keep all of this together, so storage is crucial. This is also because in the apartment here at Saint-Denis there are two lits-placards - beds which fold up into cupboards - one in the library where we sleep and a spare one for guests in the music room. Ideally these would come to a new apartment, and require specialist removing. There is also a huge piece of furniture called a "gentleman's commode", which N bought in an auction in Newmarket many years ago, and which houses not only his clothes but table and kitchen linen and spare bedding.
N favoured the area of Bougival, out to the west of Paris, as a place to begin the search for an apartment, so on Thursday afternoon we set out in the car - taking the opportunity to give it an outing after its various battery problems, and to put into the boot the two stools from Habitat and the laundry from last week's guests, going back to LNL for washing. It was not a good day for a drive; heavy rain and wind and traffic jams all round the outskirts of Paris. We got out in the main street in Bougival and visited an estate agent, the same chain as the one we are dealing with in Saint-Denis; got our names and requirements on his list, and picked up lots of local brochures. We also went though Chatou and La Celle Saint Cloud; nowhere looking particularly inviting on a wet December afternoon.
Eventually we had to get back to thinking about our guests arriving the next day, so stopped at the Super U supermarket in Chatou to stock up in readiness. By the time we had crawled back along the autoroute in the rain, and I had taken all the shopping upstairs to the apartment and N had got back after parking the car, it was dinner time.
Thursday 13 December 2007
Claire, Dan and Charlotte were due to arrive early on Friday afternoon. Another thing on my list of things to do last week had been the Messiah - to sit down and listen to the two CDs while following the score, in preparation for the Sing Along on Sunday at the American Cathedral. This I sat down to do after N left to meet the family at the Gare du Nord, unable to believe that I had over an hour all to myself just to devote to Handel. It was all too good to be true however; after about 20 minutes N rang saying that there was no train listed at the time Claire had said; could I find Dan’s parents’ phone number in his address book and ask them to check?
There was no number in his book; just the address, so I spent some time vainly trying to find the number of an International Directory Enquiries (in phone books mostly dating from 1998) with the Messiah going on valiantly in the background; N phoned again and said couldn’t I use BT on the Internet, as I had done before. I couldn’t get into the Internet, and when I at last found a relevant French phone number, there was only a recorded message saying I could now find the information on the Internet! Eventually N and all the guests turned up - the train had existed all along; no-one knew why it wasn’t on the Arrivals board. And I had listened to some of the first half of Messiah.
They only stayed the weekend; not long but perhaps enough with a small person in an apartment, the dark days and bad weather, and the impossibility of going anywhere in the car as there was no car seat for Charlotte. She not surprisingly had matured a lot since we last saw her, speaking very eloquently and playing on her own a lot of the time. The highlight of the weekend was a visit from the Palmers for Saturday afternoon tea; Charlotte and Daren looked at each other a bit suspiciously; apparently he didn’t know many girls, certainly not any who spoke English. I had done some baking at LNL, had bought some biscuits and Malika brought a cake, so I think all the grown-ups enjoyed it.
Afterwards we watched a video of the film Fantasia which Charlotte found quite captivating apart from saying “Where’s Mickey Mouse?” every few minutes. When she was in bed we watched Porterhouse Blue; Dan and Claire knew the story and we hadn’t seen it for some time. On the Saturday morning we had all gone for a walk to the Basilique and seen a wedding party arrive at the Hotel de Ville - and to Carrefour and a playground, and on Sunday morning Dan and Charlotte went out on their own, to fetch patîsseries for lunch and to see the market.
After Sunday lunch - roast chicken, stuffing, roast potatoes, cauliflower, broccoli & gravy, and the said patîsseries - we all set out together, me towards the American Cathedral and the others, having decided against the animated shop windows, to the Zoo at Vincennes. I was far too early, and when I came out of the metro at Georges V it was raining, so spent time looking at the Champs Elysées and in particular the Drugstore Publicis next to the Arc de Triomphe and the bookshop there.
I arrived in good time at the Cathedral, and they seemed pleased I had my own score. It was a long while since I had been in such an environment, and was amused at the overheard pieces of conversation, just like one always hears before choral events or rehearsals. Most people seemed to be either French or American, but there were a few English accents. The central aisles were divided into four sections for sopranos, altos, tenors and basses, and the few members of the “audience” were at the sides. I talked to a chatty French lady on my right, who commented on my accent and said I was “de vrai”, whether she meant for Handel and the Messiah or as opposed to all the Americans, I don’t know. On my left was a very tall, very blonde young French woman, a member of the Paris Choral Society, sponsors of the event.
It was only when I’d arrived that I saw that we were to sing just Part I of the Messiah, plus the Hallelujah Chorus. The conductor - in residence at the cathedral, and very good - took us through all the usual things to remember, in both French and English, and introduced the soloists and the organist, and also said that it was an annual event; for the fifteenth year running. Must look out for it next year. I thoroughly enjoyed the singing, although noticing that my breathing was not what it was, and that the trills needed some work. I was certainly doing much better then the lady next to me; the young woman the other side sang the notes well enough, but with a very French accent - I had forgotten this syndrome which I then remembered from the Saint-Denis chorale - trying to sing properly pronounced English words while everyone else is singing them wrongly is not easy! There were forms to fill in if one was interested in singing Parts II and III at a later date; I left my details and have since received an acknowledgment by e-mail.
We ended by singing the Hallelujah Chorus twice, also a tradition apparently, and all went out into the dark and rain. The weather was exactly the same last December when I had gone to the Carol Service; I must try and have a look at the place one day in the summer! At least I saw the Champs Elysées and the Arc de Triomphe with all their Christmas lights.
C, D and C set off for the Gare du Nord in the middle of Monday morning, accompanied by N; we exchanged Christmas presents, and wished them well for the arrival of the newest member of the family due in February. I stripped beds, tidied a little and wiped sticky door handles and when N came back we had a quiet lunch and collapsed gratefully on to the sofa. He had been as far as FNAC and bought up-to-date maps of the Paris suburbs and of the RER train system; the ones we had been consulting were about 10 years out of date; we need current ones if we are to make proper decisions. We spent the afternoon looking at the new maps and the previous house magazines in the light of the new maps.
By this time N was beginning to change his mind about both the piano and the lits placards, and thinking about Saint Germain-en-Laye as a place to look for an apartment. That evening we saw a useful house programme on TV; the, kind I have seen countless times in Britain, but never before in France. It dealt with a house that would not sell, and advised the owners to get rid of personal items and bring it up to date. I could see that might help a lot with the apartment at Saint-Denis; N was not so sure. One always thinks that if one likes certain things oneself then how could any prospective buyers not love them too?
Leaving the apartment at Saint-Denis on Tuesday morning was fraught as usual. The big front door was locked, but even if it had been open the car would not have got in as the pavement was blocked by Ursuline dustbins awaiting emptying; I don‘t think we have ever tried to leave at that time in the morning before. Once we were safely in the car with all our luggage, laundry, Habitat stools, the viola, Christmas presents, left-over food and butterfly net and assorted other items being relegated to LNL, N said did I fancy going via Saint Germain-en-Laye, which seemed like a great idea. Unlike the previous Thursday the weather was bright and sunny; with not much traffic on the roads.
Neither of us had been to Saint Germain-en-Laye before, although we knew it was rather expensive and “sought-after”, but we were unprepared for the magnificent château in the middle of the old town, right next to the RER station. After driving round a few times we parked deep in an underground car park and then walked around; there were lots of very nice expensive shops with well-heeled customers and I reflected that I would need an increase in my dress allowance if I was to live there. (“But you don’t have a dress allowance ….” said N; “Exactly,” I said.) We also saw a good big market, and visited a very helpful estate agent. He explained that none of the properties in the old town had parking as they were all too old, and that in any case there were never very many on the market. He advised us to look at an area called Bel Air, where the prices were lower - with parking, a bus ride away from the old town. There was also a station there linked with Saint-Lazare, which would make getting to and from La Neuve-Lyre very much easier. (This had been the case with other properties west of Paris which we had read about, and I thought was a great advantage.)
We gathered information from outside other agents and then decided it was time for lunch in a nice cosy little restaurant, and then drove over to Bel Air, very modern and seemingly a long way away. The only plus seemed to be that all the streets were named after composers! We drove back to LNL - not that far as we were on the right side of Paris - and N decide that a pied-à-terre in Paris should be just that, not another country property. I had thought this all along. His definition of “Paris” is not quite the same as mine however; I wouldn’t just limit myself to addresses within arondissements, I count anything on the metro line as Paris and would be very happy there. We did agree though, that Saint Germain-en-Laye was a wonderful new discovery which merited visiting often.
Saturday 15 December 2007
We got back to discover lots of post: a few Christmas cards, one or two parcels and lots of reading material - London Review of Books, CAM Magazine (one each) and the latest issue of Maisons Normandes, the latter very strange after looking at so many pictures of modern Paris flats. There was also the December catalogue from the frozen food company - I perused it in bed that night and they rang the next day for my order, which was delivered this morning. All very efficient. With the delivery came a free Johnny Hallyday CD; last time it was a not-very-useful recipe book. N said he hoped I would not listen to the CD while he is around; I said it was important to listen as it is French Culture! I see that in January there is a free white china cake plate with all orders; much more practical.
And the new stools are just right under the kitchen table, I’m pleased to say.
Monsieur P the carpenter arrived on Wednesday morning for the payment of his bill for the verandah door and the new little window in the second outhouse, unfortunately a lot more than either of us remembered, but we agreed again that the door was necessary and well worth it, and nothing else so large needs doing, touch wood. He kissed me on arriving and departing; I hope we will still continue to see something of him even though we have no more large projects for him.
On Thursday a whole sheaf of Christmas cards arrived together from Cambridge; I think the senders must have all done them last weekend and got them in the post on Monday!
The house took some time to warm up as for much of the time since Tuesday temperatures have been very little above freezing with thick white frosts. Yesterday morning we set off to Bernay for the car service; this was due for 9.00 so we were up early in the dark, and expected the roads to be icy, but fortunately they were dry. (The car was being serviced in Bernay as it is now a year old and the Saint- Denis garage has closed down.) We had two hours to fill in until the car was ready, so walked to the Post Office and to Petite Italie where we stocked up and then had a welcome hot chocolate in the Café de la Gare before going on to our usual supermarket. Afterwards N walked back to the garage while I waited - an hour! - with the shopping in the supermarket café with a newspaper. Amongst other interesting things, I read that this time last year the temperature was 11 degrees. Also, we now have all next week’s TV programmes, lists of Christmas markets and some unusual recipes for topinembours.
N is now looking at properties in the Sèvres, Boulogne-Billancourt, Asnières, Courbevoie, Epinay and Enghien areas, and has decided after all to bring the grand piano to LNL, about which I am very pleased. He has also brought the viola and wooden music stand down to the salon and decided it will become the “music” room straight away because of the acoustics. I will clear a shelf in the large built-in cupboard next to the fireplace for all the music which will come from Paris with the piano. (But not before Christmas ….) The cupboard must be one of the very oldest parts of the house, and is currently filled with all the things that used to be in my loft - Christmas decorations, old photos - framed and in albums - LPs and pieces of china not wanted at present.
This afternoon while I was sitting here at the computer there was a ring at the garden gate and Robert Urset was there; especially welcome as when it rang yesterday afternoon it was only the local firemen selling calendars (a French tradition!) He was lucky as we had just decided to eat our panettone cake bought yesterday at Petite Italie, and not save it till Christmas. N also not surprisingly picked his brains about buying and selling properties in the Paris area and I told him we had been to Bon Marché again. He said he would call us in January and invite us to dinner. Perhaps after all we are getting somewhere with making new friends?
After seeing Madeleine and Caroline off at the Gare du Nord it was nice to be on our own again, and we began to wonder when we would receive the valuation for the apartment, and what it would be. I had a list of things I wanted to get done before the arrival of the next visitors on Friday; one of the most important was the Christmas cards. I had brought from LNL the labels, envelopes and stamps and having got the cards themselves in Bon Marché and finished the newsletter to go inside them, got them all in the post in Friday morning. All the making-up of beds and cleaning and tidying was done on Friday morning, too. I also went along to a picture framer N had recommended near the Basilique, with my poster of coffee and cakes from Vienna and an old gilt frame from the Italian house. The framer will add some glass and a border, and I can collect it when we go back at the beginning of January.
On Tuesday morning N had sent an e-mail to the estate agents asking if the valuation was ready and whether he could come and fetch it (he wanted to avoid it going in the post, where it would have automatically been forwarded to LNL along with the rest of his mail.) They said it would be ready that afternoon, so after going shopping together to get more family Christmas presents in the Virgin Megastore we went along and collected the valuation, which was considerably higher than N had thought it would be, in fact two and a half times what he paid for the apartment 10 years ago! (Taking into account the change from francs to euros.) This not surprisingly put him in a very good frame of mind for the rest of the day; in fact a Good bottle of wine was opened for dinner, and different and more expensive pages of the house magazines were consulted.
After much discussion and looking at maps and the house magazines themselves, we had decided that the best areas for a new apartment were those in the west or north-west of Paris, the right side for getting to and fro from Normandy. The western suburbs around the bend in the Seine are also the most desirable and expensive; we're not sure if this is a good or a bad thing! However there seem to be a good number to choose from with 2 or 3 bedrooms, about 70 or 80 m2 of floor space, a modern kitchen and bathroom, a garage or parking underground, a balcony, cellar, storage and nearby trains and shops, in the right price bracket. (Inevitably, perhaps, we are finding lots of words and especially abbreviations which were not included in the latest edition of the Lexique, and think we should begin to note these for the next edition.) We are both excited at the thought of a new “project”; the new verandah door at LNL is the last large (expensive!) thing needed there, and there is not so much to do and think about as there was when we first arrived.
Space is important - originally N thought of taking the grand piano to LNL, and perhaps some of the vast number of books, but has now decided he wants to keep all of this together, so storage is crucial. This is also because in the apartment here at Saint-Denis there are two lits-placards - beds which fold up into cupboards - one in the library where we sleep and a spare one for guests in the music room. Ideally these would come to a new apartment, and require specialist removing. There is also a huge piece of furniture called a "gentleman's commode", which N bought in an auction in Newmarket many years ago, and which houses not only his clothes but table and kitchen linen and spare bedding.
N favoured the area of Bougival, out to the west of Paris, as a place to begin the search for an apartment, so on Thursday afternoon we set out in the car - taking the opportunity to give it an outing after its various battery problems, and to put into the boot the two stools from Habitat and the laundry from last week's guests, going back to LNL for washing. It was not a good day for a drive; heavy rain and wind and traffic jams all round the outskirts of Paris. We got out in the main street in Bougival and visited an estate agent, the same chain as the one we are dealing with in Saint-Denis; got our names and requirements on his list, and picked up lots of local brochures. We also went though Chatou and La Celle Saint Cloud; nowhere looking particularly inviting on a wet December afternoon.
Eventually we had to get back to thinking about our guests arriving the next day, so stopped at the Super U supermarket in Chatou to stock up in readiness. By the time we had crawled back along the autoroute in the rain, and I had taken all the shopping upstairs to the apartment and N had got back after parking the car, it was dinner time.
Thursday 13 December 2007
Claire, Dan and Charlotte were due to arrive early on Friday afternoon. Another thing on my list of things to do last week had been the Messiah - to sit down and listen to the two CDs while following the score, in preparation for the Sing Along on Sunday at the American Cathedral. This I sat down to do after N left to meet the family at the Gare du Nord, unable to believe that I had over an hour all to myself just to devote to Handel. It was all too good to be true however; after about 20 minutes N rang saying that there was no train listed at the time Claire had said; could I find Dan’s parents’ phone number in his address book and ask them to check?
There was no number in his book; just the address, so I spent some time vainly trying to find the number of an International Directory Enquiries (in phone books mostly dating from 1998) with the Messiah going on valiantly in the background; N phoned again and said couldn’t I use BT on the Internet, as I had done before. I couldn’t get into the Internet, and when I at last found a relevant French phone number, there was only a recorded message saying I could now find the information on the Internet! Eventually N and all the guests turned up - the train had existed all along; no-one knew why it wasn’t on the Arrivals board. And I had listened to some of the first half of Messiah.
They only stayed the weekend; not long but perhaps enough with a small person in an apartment, the dark days and bad weather, and the impossibility of going anywhere in the car as there was no car seat for Charlotte. She not surprisingly had matured a lot since we last saw her, speaking very eloquently and playing on her own a lot of the time. The highlight of the weekend was a visit from the Palmers for Saturday afternoon tea; Charlotte and Daren looked at each other a bit suspiciously; apparently he didn’t know many girls, certainly not any who spoke English. I had done some baking at LNL, had bought some biscuits and Malika brought a cake, so I think all the grown-ups enjoyed it.
Afterwards we watched a video of the film Fantasia which Charlotte found quite captivating apart from saying “Where’s Mickey Mouse?” every few minutes. When she was in bed we watched Porterhouse Blue; Dan and Claire knew the story and we hadn’t seen it for some time. On the Saturday morning we had all gone for a walk to the Basilique and seen a wedding party arrive at the Hotel de Ville - and to Carrefour and a playground, and on Sunday morning Dan and Charlotte went out on their own, to fetch patîsseries for lunch and to see the market.
After Sunday lunch - roast chicken, stuffing, roast potatoes, cauliflower, broccoli & gravy, and the said patîsseries - we all set out together, me towards the American Cathedral and the others, having decided against the animated shop windows, to the Zoo at Vincennes. I was far too early, and when I came out of the metro at Georges V it was raining, so spent time looking at the Champs Elysées and in particular the Drugstore Publicis next to the Arc de Triomphe and the bookshop there.
I arrived in good time at the Cathedral, and they seemed pleased I had my own score. It was a long while since I had been in such an environment, and was amused at the overheard pieces of conversation, just like one always hears before choral events or rehearsals. Most people seemed to be either French or American, but there were a few English accents. The central aisles were divided into four sections for sopranos, altos, tenors and basses, and the few members of the “audience” were at the sides. I talked to a chatty French lady on my right, who commented on my accent and said I was “de vrai”, whether she meant for Handel and the Messiah or as opposed to all the Americans, I don’t know. On my left was a very tall, very blonde young French woman, a member of the Paris Choral Society, sponsors of the event.
It was only when I’d arrived that I saw that we were to sing just Part I of the Messiah, plus the Hallelujah Chorus. The conductor - in residence at the cathedral, and very good - took us through all the usual things to remember, in both French and English, and introduced the soloists and the organist, and also said that it was an annual event; for the fifteenth year running. Must look out for it next year. I thoroughly enjoyed the singing, although noticing that my breathing was not what it was, and that the trills needed some work. I was certainly doing much better then the lady next to me; the young woman the other side sang the notes well enough, but with a very French accent - I had forgotten this syndrome which I then remembered from the Saint-Denis chorale - trying to sing properly pronounced English words while everyone else is singing them wrongly is not easy! There were forms to fill in if one was interested in singing Parts II and III at a later date; I left my details and have since received an acknowledgment by e-mail.
We ended by singing the Hallelujah Chorus twice, also a tradition apparently, and all went out into the dark and rain. The weather was exactly the same last December when I had gone to the Carol Service; I must try and have a look at the place one day in the summer! At least I saw the Champs Elysées and the Arc de Triomphe with all their Christmas lights.
C, D and C set off for the Gare du Nord in the middle of Monday morning, accompanied by N; we exchanged Christmas presents, and wished them well for the arrival of the newest member of the family due in February. I stripped beds, tidied a little and wiped sticky door handles and when N came back we had a quiet lunch and collapsed gratefully on to the sofa. He had been as far as FNAC and bought up-to-date maps of the Paris suburbs and of the RER train system; the ones we had been consulting were about 10 years out of date; we need current ones if we are to make proper decisions. We spent the afternoon looking at the new maps and the previous house magazines in the light of the new maps.
By this time N was beginning to change his mind about both the piano and the lits placards, and thinking about Saint Germain-en-Laye as a place to look for an apartment. That evening we saw a useful house programme on TV; the, kind I have seen countless times in Britain, but never before in France. It dealt with a house that would not sell, and advised the owners to get rid of personal items and bring it up to date. I could see that might help a lot with the apartment at Saint-Denis; N was not so sure. One always thinks that if one likes certain things oneself then how could any prospective buyers not love them too?
Leaving the apartment at Saint-Denis on Tuesday morning was fraught as usual. The big front door was locked, but even if it had been open the car would not have got in as the pavement was blocked by Ursuline dustbins awaiting emptying; I don‘t think we have ever tried to leave at that time in the morning before. Once we were safely in the car with all our luggage, laundry, Habitat stools, the viola, Christmas presents, left-over food and butterfly net and assorted other items being relegated to LNL, N said did I fancy going via Saint Germain-en-Laye, which seemed like a great idea. Unlike the previous Thursday the weather was bright and sunny; with not much traffic on the roads.
Neither of us had been to Saint Germain-en-Laye before, although we knew it was rather expensive and “sought-after”, but we were unprepared for the magnificent château in the middle of the old town, right next to the RER station. After driving round a few times we parked deep in an underground car park and then walked around; there were lots of very nice expensive shops with well-heeled customers and I reflected that I would need an increase in my dress allowance if I was to live there. (“But you don’t have a dress allowance ….” said N; “Exactly,” I said.) We also saw a good big market, and visited a very helpful estate agent. He explained that none of the properties in the old town had parking as they were all too old, and that in any case there were never very many on the market. He advised us to look at an area called Bel Air, where the prices were lower - with parking, a bus ride away from the old town. There was also a station there linked with Saint-Lazare, which would make getting to and from La Neuve-Lyre very much easier. (This had been the case with other properties west of Paris which we had read about, and I thought was a great advantage.)
We gathered information from outside other agents and then decided it was time for lunch in a nice cosy little restaurant, and then drove over to Bel Air, very modern and seemingly a long way away. The only plus seemed to be that all the streets were named after composers! We drove back to LNL - not that far as we were on the right side of Paris - and N decide that a pied-à-terre in Paris should be just that, not another country property. I had thought this all along. His definition of “Paris” is not quite the same as mine however; I wouldn’t just limit myself to addresses within arondissements, I count anything on the metro line as Paris and would be very happy there. We did agree though, that Saint Germain-en-Laye was a wonderful new discovery which merited visiting often.
Saturday 15 December 2007
We got back to discover lots of post: a few Christmas cards, one or two parcels and lots of reading material - London Review of Books, CAM Magazine (one each) and the latest issue of Maisons Normandes, the latter very strange after looking at so many pictures of modern Paris flats. There was also the December catalogue from the frozen food company - I perused it in bed that night and they rang the next day for my order, which was delivered this morning. All very efficient. With the delivery came a free Johnny Hallyday CD; last time it was a not-very-useful recipe book. N said he hoped I would not listen to the CD while he is around; I said it was important to listen as it is French Culture! I see that in January there is a free white china cake plate with all orders; much more practical.
And the new stools are just right under the kitchen table, I’m pleased to say.
Monsieur P the carpenter arrived on Wednesday morning for the payment of his bill for the verandah door and the new little window in the second outhouse, unfortunately a lot more than either of us remembered, but we agreed again that the door was necessary and well worth it, and nothing else so large needs doing, touch wood. He kissed me on arriving and departing; I hope we will still continue to see something of him even though we have no more large projects for him.
On Thursday a whole sheaf of Christmas cards arrived together from Cambridge; I think the senders must have all done them last weekend and got them in the post on Monday!
The house took some time to warm up as for much of the time since Tuesday temperatures have been very little above freezing with thick white frosts. Yesterday morning we set off to Bernay for the car service; this was due for 9.00 so we were up early in the dark, and expected the roads to be icy, but fortunately they were dry. (The car was being serviced in Bernay as it is now a year old and the Saint- Denis garage has closed down.) We had two hours to fill in until the car was ready, so walked to the Post Office and to Petite Italie where we stocked up and then had a welcome hot chocolate in the Café de la Gare before going on to our usual supermarket. Afterwards N walked back to the garage while I waited - an hour! - with the shopping in the supermarket café with a newspaper. Amongst other interesting things, I read that this time last year the temperature was 11 degrees. Also, we now have all next week’s TV programmes, lists of Christmas markets and some unusual recipes for topinembours.
N is now looking at properties in the Sèvres, Boulogne-Billancourt, Asnières, Courbevoie, Epinay and Enghien areas, and has decided after all to bring the grand piano to LNL, about which I am very pleased. He has also brought the viola and wooden music stand down to the salon and decided it will become the “music” room straight away because of the acoustics. I will clear a shelf in the large built-in cupboard next to the fireplace for all the music which will come from Paris with the piano. (But not before Christmas ….) The cupboard must be one of the very oldest parts of the house, and is currently filled with all the things that used to be in my loft - Christmas decorations, old photos - framed and in albums - LPs and pieces of china not wanted at present.
This afternoon while I was sitting here at the computer there was a ring at the garden gate and Robert Urset was there; especially welcome as when it rang yesterday afternoon it was only the local firemen selling calendars (a French tradition!) He was lucky as we had just decided to eat our panettone cake bought yesterday at Petite Italie, and not save it till Christmas. N also not surprisingly picked his brains about buying and selling properties in the Paris area and I told him we had been to Bon Marché again. He said he would call us in January and invite us to dinner. Perhaps after all we are getting somewhere with making new friends?
# posted by Chez Katherine @ 7:05 AM 
