Sitting at my desk, firmly committed to do absolutely nothing (New Year resolution, do the strict minimum for the Nazi bitch), I remembered something my dad's girlfriend said to him when he suggested settling in our little village. She was afraid that, should something happen, they would be left to their own devices, far from everything: hospitals, shops and all. So she would prefer living in a town.
But when I reflect on the last few weeks and on poor Fox's misfortunes, I realised how unfounded her concerns are. From the moment our troubles started there has been a spontaneous and generous rallying around us. Mooh was immediately taken in and cared for by Annie and Alistair during our time in Poitiers for Fox's operations (and anyone knowing Mooh will tell you, this is a feat of endurance looking after her), and let's not forgetting the numerous meals she cooked for us throughout that time, Stéphane, our lovely builder, lit a fire for us on both occasions so we could come back to a warm and cosy house, Marina and Philippe are picking up our laundry to dry it regularly and have dropped cooked meals as well so we could chill out a little. And a lot of people have popped in quickly, not wanting to intrude, to see if we were alright and to ask us to let them know should we need anything.
In a village anonymity is non-existent and privacy is difficult to keep and I know that sometimes I moan when people are popping by for coffee and a chat (often in groups!), and they do that a lot, particularly at meal times when you're about to eat (they must have a sixth sense, "Hey! Marie! They're cooking I can feel it! Quick, get the car!"), but if this is the trade off for being part of a community that cares for its members the way our little group does, then I'm all for it.
Wednesday, 27 January 2010
Sunday, 8 November 2009
31. update
Well it's been quite a while since our last post and a lot has happened. After much searching, numerous tradesmen and countless quotes, each of them more expensive than the last, we have at last found a skilled and honest artisan, Stéphane, who didn't see our project as a mean to inflate his bank account and work has finally started on the classrooms.
Since then we have seen the rebuilding of the wall running through the building, followed by the laying of the concrete beams and concrete blocks onto which more concrete will be poured. The electrician has almost finished running his first round of cables (as we haven't got any ceilings as yet), and all eight windows have been fitted.
We also have had more visitors this winter than throughout the summer. Despite our repeated warnings about the house being very cold and with only (at the time) two wood stoves for heating system (now we have three), no one was deterred. And in a sudden turn of event, papa came to see us and announced he wanted to settle in or very near our village after leaving his girlfriend. Within three days he had found another. We were of course delighted of his decision to come live closer to us, but also couldn't help making lists of jobs he could do. Naughty naughty I know.
On the downside, Fox got a detached retina and had to have surgery in Poitiers. Two weeks of sheer agony followed the procedure. Then the silicone rail that bound his eye (which we were not aware he had) was rejected by his body and they had to operate once again. Hopefully this will be the end of it, although the doctors mentioned the possibility of a third operation. It's been quite dishearting.
And as for my job, it's not getting any better thanks to my boss. The expression "wolf in sheep clothing" has never been so true. She's all smiles and looks at you (well, the clients) the way Mother Theresa looked at lepers but becomes a cold selfish ruthless bitch that makes Hitler look like a choir boy when you least expect it. And should you stand up for yourself she reverts to her little girl act and starts crying (to which I last replied "whatever" before leaving the room).
We'll try to update the blog much more regularly from now on, promise (since I stopped caring about work, I found a lot of time to tweet, catch up with emails and endlessly stare into space so that shouldn't be a problem).
To have found our man for the job meant that we had to speed up clearing the space. Fox and I, but mainly Fox, had to lift all the floorboards in a very short period of time. We then removed all 70 odd oak beams, each weighting a ton, and stored them under the préau. We could barely stand after that.
Cast iron radiators felt the wrath of Thor, Fox's favourite hammer, pipes went too, along with the sink (which we will recycle in our own bathroom) and the previous heating system. The classrooms were now stripped of everything but their walls. Oh yes, and I got to use noisy, manly powertools, especially the angle grinder which had the dramatic effect of spraying sparks all over the place!
Cast iron radiators felt the wrath of Thor, Fox's favourite hammer, pipes went too, along with the sink (which we will recycle in our own bathroom) and the previous heating system. The classrooms were now stripped of everything but their walls. Oh yes, and I got to use noisy, manly powertools, especially the angle grinder which had the dramatic effect of spraying sparks all over the place!
Since then we have seen the rebuilding of the wall running through the building, followed by the laying of the concrete beams and concrete blocks onto which more concrete will be poured. The electrician has almost finished running his first round of cables (as we haven't got any ceilings as yet), and all eight windows have been fitted.
We also have had more visitors this winter than throughout the summer. Despite our repeated warnings about the house being very cold and with only (at the time) two wood stoves for heating system (now we have three), no one was deterred. And in a sudden turn of event, papa came to see us and announced he wanted to settle in or very near our village after leaving his girlfriend. Within three days he had found another. We were of course delighted of his decision to come live closer to us, but also couldn't help making lists of jobs he could do. Naughty naughty I know.
Mooh's doing well, getting very big and boisterous, going stone deaf as soon as she is out on a walk and enjoying her status of Lady of the house. She still insists on climbing onto our laps to have a cuddle despite the fact that she is huge and can barely fit on them.
And as for my job, it's not getting any better thanks to my boss. The expression "wolf in sheep clothing" has never been so true. She's all smiles and looks at you (well, the clients) the way Mother Theresa looked at lepers but becomes a cold selfish ruthless bitch that makes Hitler look like a choir boy when you least expect it. And should you stand up for yourself she reverts to her little girl act and starts crying (to which I last replied "whatever" before leaving the room).
We'll try to update the blog much more regularly from now on, promise (since I stopped caring about work, I found a lot of time to tweet, catch up with emails and endlessly stare into space so that shouldn't be a problem).
Saturday, 29 August 2009
30. meteor shower
To pick up where Fox left off on the beautiful nights of our little village, a fortnight ago the Perseids meteor shower was once more scheduled to light up our skies. We went to the Galopin for a couple of drinks then headed home. I took the air bed from upstairs, along with a blanket, and set it up in the middle of the playground. With a glass of wine in hand we waited for the streetlights to go off. When they did at 11 p.m. sharp, we laid on the bed with Mooh between us and marveled at the spectacle. Some were quite small and disappearing fast, one or two were big and left a scar of light on the black sky that took some time to fade away. It was quite unique, and we were happy to be able to enjoy it the way we did, in our home lookng at our own bit of sky.
Now that the holidays are drawing to an end and that France is reluctantly going back to work, we are finally bracing ourselves for a second wave of quotes and, we hope, the imminent start of the renovation of the classrooms. The guy we are hoping to retain for the job came last week to have another look and to discuss some issues. Unmistakably French with his thick white moustache and red cheeks but with the adornment of an African chief, Mr G. was worried about the cost of digging a trench along the walls, inside the classrooms, for the foundations of small walls that would support the concrete beams of the new elevated floor. It would be quite an expense because there was no way a digger could be brought inside to do the job, and now that the men had gotten used of using effort-saving equipment and machinery they weren't too please to go back to the shovel or whatever it is they were using in the past to dig trenches.
But after much grunting, head scratching and measurement taking, it was decided that digging trenches was no longer necessary, the beams would be directly inserted in the outside walls of the school. Crisis averted. Well, until the quotes are in, of course.
As for the teachers' house it's slowly happening too. Suspended ceilings came crashing down, with the exception of the kitchen's and the bathroom's, and Fox and I are often looking at the regained height with delight. We went to buy sinks, toilets and shower trays the other day as papa is coming soon to give us a hand updating two of the bathrooms (he didn't plan to but got concerned, I suspect, when I told him I'll be "doing it all by myself", including fitting toilets where there are none at present).
Fox also did a tremendous job in the garden by smothering the knotweed, digging it up and covering it with tarpaulin and drenching anything growing through with poison.
As for Mooh she's still growing up fast. Now in her teenage years she has developped selective hearing and a taste for rotten pears (don't ask). Her baby teeth have fallen out and the big, white, adult ones are coming through. She ain't gonna be small and she'll have teeth to match.
Now that the holidays are drawing to an end and that France is reluctantly going back to work, we are finally bracing ourselves for a second wave of quotes and, we hope, the imminent start of the renovation of the classrooms. The guy we are hoping to retain for the job came last week to have another look and to discuss some issues. Unmistakably French with his thick white moustache and red cheeks but with the adornment of an African chief, Mr G. was worried about the cost of digging a trench along the walls, inside the classrooms, for the foundations of small walls that would support the concrete beams of the new elevated floor. It would be quite an expense because there was no way a digger could be brought inside to do the job, and now that the men had gotten used of using effort-saving equipment and machinery they weren't too please to go back to the shovel or whatever it is they were using in the past to dig trenches.
But after much grunting, head scratching and measurement taking, it was decided that digging trenches was no longer necessary, the beams would be directly inserted in the outside walls of the school. Crisis averted. Well, until the quotes are in, of course.
As for the teachers' house it's slowly happening too. Suspended ceilings came crashing down, with the exception of the kitchen's and the bathroom's, and Fox and I are often looking at the regained height with delight. We went to buy sinks, toilets and shower trays the other day as papa is coming soon to give us a hand updating two of the bathrooms (he didn't plan to but got concerned, I suspect, when I told him I'll be "doing it all by myself", including fitting toilets where there are none at present).
Fox also did a tremendous job in the garden by smothering the knotweed, digging it up and covering it with tarpaulin and drenching anything growing through with poison.
As for Mooh she's still growing up fast. Now in her teenage years she has developped selective hearing and a taste for rotten pears (don't ask). Her baby teeth have fallen out and the big, white, adult ones are coming through. She ain't gonna be small and she'll have teeth to match.
Tuesday, 28 July 2009
29. starry starry night
Well, I have been here a month now and what can I say? I already feel I have been here for years and am getting to know the area. I haven't watched any tv or films since I arrived and have to say that I haven't missed them. Ask me if it will be the same in winter and my answer will probably be different. We spend more time outside so there is no need to coop ourselves inside as we did in London because we didn't have any outside space, except a balcony in full view of the street. I keep thinking that someone is going to tap me on my shoulder and say 'er, excuse me, I think you're living someone else's life and they want it back, awright?'. In between looking after little Mooh I'm doing the shopping and smashing up the house ready for work to commence, and because of that I feel like I have lost some weight already, woohoo! Even though the house is a right old mess I could still live here, with it in that state, for the end of my days.
I started a little project a few weeks back taking a picture of the sunflower field opposite in the same place at around midday-ish everyday and posting it on Facebook, just to see how long it would take the army of yellow heads to rise and fall. It's such a beautiful sight to look out of the kitchen door window and see these stoic flowers standing, waiting to face and greet the sun every morning. Their heads are getting heavier now and bowing, almost kneeling with the weight, almost like the sun has offloaded some of its weight on them.
We spent an afternoon going through papers at the Mairie with one of its employees to see if we could find any more history about the school. The second floor of the builiding still has wallpaper from the fifties, peeling off and dusty. In a room piled with papers we attempted to help sort out documents while at the same time digging for documented gems for ourselves. We did find some lists of pupils and sundry papers, one of which seemed to indicate that at one time the playground had been cobbled. Fab! We then dreamt of finding these cobbles and using them to bring back the asphalt drive to life. We eventually want a garden there. There are still two old tennis court net posts in the playground and so Seb in his enthusiasm to see if there was anything underneath pushed and pulled it out of the ground, butch or what, only discover rubble underneath. Oh well, it's only a small part on the far side so we may yet discover some yet.
Poor little Mooh was spayed yesterday and was a bit sheepish when we got her home. I think she sees the V
et as Dr Death now, so that maybe a problem. When he gave her second injection she was almost climbing over me to get out. But she got her own back that night when we put her in her pen to sleep. She howled for an hour, and not just howled, cried, yelped, mewed and generally tore at our heart strings as he lay in bed wondering if we should go down. Seb went down at one point and nonchalently went to look at something on the kitchen table just to make sure she hadn't attempted to self harm and we'd find a bloodbath in the morning the noise was that disturbing. It really is like having a two year old. She was fine and eventually stopped. The Vet had even given us a morphine pill which we had administered and seemed to have made no difference whatsoever. I think next time we'll ask for a hardcore horse tranquiliser. She's sensitive but a tough bird.Mum and dad are coming out in early September and we are really looking forward to showing the place off to them. They may be a little aghast at some of the work needed doing but we'll get there. Sebs Papa and his girlfriend Michelle should be down too so they will finally meet, which will be interesting as neither speak each others language. But my Dad can be fluent in anything after a couple of beers!
Heard Mooh whining at 4.30am so took her for a wee (see we are dedicated parents really) and looked up and saw the clearest darkest sky speckled with a sheet of stars. Amazing! I count my lucky stars we live here.
Friday, 10 July 2009
28. new friendships
Mooh is sprawled across the threshold of the kitchen's French doors leading to the playground, stretching every now and then, snoring to her puppy's heart's content, Fox is cutting the small trees we chopped down into tinder for this coming winter and for the first time in weeks I can actually sit down and do something other than working or falling into a slumber. Life is good today. Bar the little fuckers flies that seems to come out of nowhere in their droves as soon as the sun is up.
I was at the Galopin few days before Fox's long awaited arrival, talking about our overgrown garden (Mooh isn't allowed at the back, we fear never to see her again the grass is so high) and the lovely Marina and Philippe casually mentioned they would come and make a start on it sometimes. I thought it was lovely and neighbourly but I have to admit I was a bit doubtful about it actually happening.
Then few days later, as I was driving back from work I saw, sticking out above the wall of the school, a ma
n's head in the playground. I'm now used to finding people wandering on the school ground so wasn't alarmed, just slightly annoyed. But as I turned into the school's playground I found Marina armed with a rake and Philippe with a machine strapped to his body, cutting down the grass, as they said they would. It was baking hot, they had been working that day, but still, here they were true to their promise.
Marina then took me on a tour, showing the rescued Wisteria and rose bush I didn't know were there and we carried on for a little while. I was then invited for dinner. I was very touched, and felt a bit guilty for my initial scepticism. what a lovely thing to do. That night I ate a delicious home cooked dinner, listen to them playing the piano and bass guitar, talking til late, enjoying new friendship.
Then the day following Fox's arrival, as we were having a drink at the Galopin, Marina announced to me that they, the usual crowd I got to hang around with, had had a talked and thought we had enough to do in the house to get ready for the coming winter and therefore should not worry about the garden anymore. They would deal with it. So-and-so had a tractor and an attachment for the back that could take care of the overgrown field at the back, who had the number? And off they were organising the tasks.
Then Stéphane dropped by the next morning with his trailer to help take some of our rubbish to the tip. I went into the caravan to make him a cup of coffee to find him when I retu
rned up the ladder, taking down the bell that threatened to fall down.
It's a quite strange for Fox and I, after years of living in London where people ignore one another and certainly don't want to get involved, to be
looked after in that fashion. There have a been dozen or more such selfless deeds to help us since I arrived, and even more wonderful evenings getting to know the folks of our lovely village.
But all those new friendships are no substitutes for the old ones. I miss my friends terribly and wish they could be here to enjoy a glass of wine and the wonderful night sky with us. Remember, the caravan is now ready for guests.
I was at the Galopin few days before Fox's long awaited arrival, talking about our overgrown garden (Mooh isn't allowed at the back, we fear never to see her again the grass is so high) and the lovely Marina and Philippe casually mentioned they would come and make a start on it sometimes. I thought it was lovely and neighbourly but I have to admit I was a bit doubtful about it actually happening.
Then few days later, as I was driving back from work I saw, sticking out above the wall of the school, a ma
n's head in the playground. I'm now used to finding people wandering on the school ground so wasn't alarmed, just slightly annoyed. But as I turned into the school's playground I found Marina armed with a rake and Philippe with a machine strapped to his body, cutting down the grass, as they said they would. It was baking hot, they had been working that day, but still, here they were true to their promise.Marina then took me on a tour, showing the rescued Wisteria and rose bush I didn't know were there and we carried on for a little while. I was then invited for dinner. I was very touched, and felt a bit guilty for my initial scepticism. what a lovely thing to do. That night I ate a delicious home cooked dinner, listen to them playing the piano and bass guitar, talking til late, enjoying new friendship.
Then the day following Fox's arrival, as we were having a drink at the Galopin, Marina announced to me that they, the usual crowd I got to hang around with, had had a talked and thought we had enough to do in the house to get ready for the coming winter and therefore should not worry about the garden anymore. They would deal with it. So-and-so had a tractor and an attachment for the back that could take care of the overgrown field at the back, who had the number? And off they were organising the tasks.
Then Stéphane dropped by the next morning with his trailer to help take some of our rubbish to the tip. I went into the caravan to make him a cup of coffee to find him when I retu
rned up the ladder, taking down the bell that threatened to fall down.looked after in that fashion. There have a been dozen or more such selfless deeds to help us since I arrived, and even more wonderful evenings getting to know the folks of our lovely village.
But all those new friendships are no substitutes for the old ones. I miss my friends terribly and wish they could be here to enjoy a glass of wine and the wonderful night sky with us. Remember, the caravan is now ready for guests.
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