Saturday, April 17, 2010

What a Week

Monsieur G and his workmen, lorries, vans and diggers completely took over the drive for most of the week as the "fosse septique" went in, the pipework was laid and then a large "bac à sable" (sand filter bed) and a drain were dug out on the other side of the drive in what used to be Serge's field. 

Friends told us they had planned to drop by but hurriedly drove on when they saw the controlled chaos.

As an aside, when he had a couple of hours spare,  Monsieur G also drove the digger back and forth over the rubble that we've been digging out of the ground around the cottage and at last we have a turning and parking space.  We no longer have to turn the cars up by the house and reverse back down the drive - alright in the day time but challenging at night in the pitch dark when it's hard to judge where the bank is on one side and the shed on the other.

The painter also arrived and squeezed his van in somehow and tuned his radio to a loud talk show programme that seemed to last all week.  Too late to do the kitchen mind you.  We thought the kitchen units were being delivered at the end of last week or early this, so we decided we had better crack on and paint the kitchen ourselves.  Long roller poles to the fore (the ceiling is high and the walls large) we applied three coats starting Friday and finishing Monday.  We chose a greyish white and bought every pot in our local DIY store plus two large cans of undercoat.  By Sunday we'd run out and it was obvious we still needed that third coat. 

French paints have a reputation for being expensive and not covering well. Local shops don't carry the stock.  And everywhere is shut on Sundays.  (Part of the charm and the frustration of living in France.)  Not a good mix for deciding at the last minute to do some DIY. So Sunday we gardened and helped Ian and his young mate lug our big fridge-freezer and dishwasher out of their van.  They'd taken them out of store for us as the kitchen has to be built round them.  Monday Tod set out, further afield, for the extra cans.

In the end the kitchen arrived late Thursday evening and the fitter (who also did the cottage) came yesterday.  Tall, quiet and calm, he worked steadily through all the large cardboard cartons and we already have everything in place on the long wall under the window. It all fits round the fridge and the dishwasher and looks very sleek. 

He's back this morning fitting the remaining units into what was the chimney breast, either side of our new, big black gas stove that's been sitting in the garage on its pallet.  At last we'll have an oven that takes more than just a chicken and a small tin of roast potatoes.  We might even get the parsnips in as well.

And with all this going on, we've gardened all week under clear blue skies and dug out pebbles from what one day will be the cottage lawn to form a smooth surface to the new parking area.

And in the background, between the rumbles of the diggers, we've heard the nightingales tuning up for summer.

Fosse septique goes in


Bac à sable being dug

Drain being dug

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