Houston, We Have A Problem

 

 

Dateline: March 31: The morning after making the new drain connection, Paul said he had the most awful smell in his bedroom the previous night and it had nothing to do with our curry, well kind of! Paul’s shower tray is not finally fitted and the trap was dry, so the odours from the town sewer were gently wafting through his room, forcing him, even after pouring water down the shower trap to seal it, to sleep with all the windows open. Fortunately the nights are now warmer!

Following this incident, we were still concerned with occasional nasty whiffs outside and having previously failed to lift the manhole cover in the courtyard, we attacked it with renewed gusto, oh and a pick axe and several lump hammers of ascending size, and associated cold chisels.

Resistance was futile and despite the cover and frame having rusted together, the whole unit was finally lifted to reveal . . . a foot deep empty pit. What a let down. So far we had found not even a slightly sophisticated underground drainage fitting in any of the builder’s merchants we had visited and this discovery seemed even less remarkable. Closer inspection however and poking the rusty detritus around in the bottom of the pit, revealed an inset round plastic cover, a double sealed chamber in fact! Such sophistication!! This cover lifted easily enough and that’s when the full horror of an absence of maintenance for decades hit us . . . the smell and flies were disgusting. We were deep in the merde! (and where on earth did the flies come from? No, I don’t want to know, but have my suspicions)

There was only one thing for it and my brave comrade took a firm grasp of his shovel and with my stoutest pair of navvy gauntlets on, I held a pair of doubled up bin bags open to receive a foot thick of solid matter.

Why on earth an interceptor trap had been installed in a foul waste drain which discharges into a public sewer network is a mystery, but probably dates back to before the introduction of the town’s main drain network and was forgotten about. Not funny.

Anyway, a couple hours of flushing through with a hosepipe and newly cemented manhole cover in place and all is well and working much better then it probably has for many years.

I thought it best not to take any photos of this, our smelliest day, but these things are all part of a home renovator’s diary and as such, I though I would share it with you all.

I’m a sharing kind of person.

Night night everyone, sleep well and I wish you sweet (smelling) dreams.

LC

At Last, Someone Thought I Was French!

Wow, furry walls

Dateline: March 30: I finally ran out of excuses today and as Easter and our important visitors will soon be upon us, I had to go and take one for the team and make the drainage connection to the foul sewer.

The actual hard work was digging the fairly shallow trench from the house to the last manhole on the property, a distance of some six mighty metres and like any digging at Le Clos de la Rose, it involved rock. So much rock in fact, that I used the pick axe as much as the specialist all steel trenching spade. This latter, sleek and all black model, was acquired as much because it seemed a specialist tool was essential to have in my arsenal of manly tools, even although it’s not a power tool. It did however make life much easier, as its clever design made light work of forming a suitably narrow trench with much less spoil to shift.

Dusty, sat in the business end of the trench, deep in combat with my manly yellow and black power chisel, breaking through into the place of unmentionables, I heard a van pull up and someone addressing me. Not hearing much above the chatter of my weapon, I stopped, stood up and took off my gloves to greet my admirer. Me being a courteous sort, I had previously learned the correct phrase to use when interrupting someone and was pleased to hear this polite young chap apologise for disturbing me and realising I was a local builder working on a property, asked me for directions to a particular wine producer’s domaine. I was simply overjoyed as I knew it and gave him the directions he needed.

It’s possible that many of you wont realise the significant importance of this milestone event of my life in France. Every single French person knows before you ever breathe a word that you are English and when able, will always answer you in English, not French, whereas my van driver actually thought from the outset that I was French and understood my simple, yet hopefully effective directions. Life is cool!

Meanwhile, upstairs, Mr Beast is making great progress with the bathrooms and we now have furry walls, as the new partitions are filled with sound insulating quilt, in readiness for the final layer of plasterboard. A further trip to Bricoman and a most helpful Briconaut assisted us with getting the tiles and by the end of the day, we not only had the walls to the guest bathroom (my sister’s and husband Roger’s), but the first tiles on the floor.

In the next exciting episode: ‘Deep in the Merde’

That’s all folks, see y’all soon now,

LC

Six mighty metres of rock breaking

Signed by the author

Tiling the light fandango . . .

. . . and not forgetting the edges

Builder's curry !!!

The Nights Are Getting Warmer

Dateline: March 26: All thoughts of snow and ice are now lost in the past (well apart from the grievous damage to my wristwatch after falling on some ice and finding it isn’t covered on any insurance policy!) as we have an early summer now and since the clocks moved forward, are eating on the terrace most nights and then admiring the stars as they pop out of a darkening sky in one twos and threes until the sky is full of pin pricks.

The other night however, we were preparing a late meal in the kitchen, when I heard some fireworks going off, thinking it must be someone’s birthday of some such celebration, as the French do so like their fireworks and are very good with them. There followed however a thunderous commotion of sound and popping my head round the door revealed a sky full of bright orange flame and sparks, not quite what I had anticipated.

Outside our gates, there was a concerned atmosphere amongst the dozen or more neighbours gathered there, about a third wrapped in their dressing gowns, as the flames ravaged a nearby building up the alley in front of us. Being braver, or curious, or more foolish than the others, Paul et moi set off up the alley to discover a building only recently being worked on by the builders, ablaze and the external door wide open to add fuel to the fire. Kicking it smartly shut, we felt we had reached to limits of our bravery and retreated to the safety of the neighbourhood watch to see what would happen next.

Twenty five firemen arrived and succeeded in keeping spectators from warming themselves too much and we, having ascertained that the building was uninhabited, retired to finish our dinner.

Meanwhile, the build continues and we have our focus firmly fixed on completing the new bathrooms for our Easter visitors. Back to work then, more later . . .

LC

PS. We have a cunning plan to restore the wrist watch to its former glory without having to pay a certain Swiss company a wholly unreasonable ransom. It’s a simple case of ‘who you know’

Well, It Had To Happen

Editor's note: I am extremely pleased to hand over the blog to my good friend and expert wielder of every manly power tool now residing in the, erm, joinery shop! Mr Beast, aka Paul, has risen to the invitation to pen a blog spot and moreover, if he gets some favourable comments, has intimated he will pen his continuing story of life here at Le Clos de Rose for your further enjoyment. LC  

 

Well it had to happen; the job is now officially a load of old Pauls.

Paul 1 (aka Mr Beast) has been joined by Paul 2 (the sparky) and thanks to Sparky, we at least now have all our dangly bits in the right places!

Wires of course, what did you think I meant!

We returned from the UK last week (Monday) complete with a new engine for the Volks Wagon, lining paper (you wouldn’t believe the price of it here in France) and some paint which is equally expensive and not such good quality we are led to believe.

So first thing Tuesday we delivered the engine to Monsieur Le Garage who after much studying of the cooling system conveyed to us that something was wrong, He and his mechanic were offering up the old water pump with the one fitted to the replacement engine, there ensued much arm waving and cries of ‘impossible’, then Monsieur Le Garage asked if the engine was from another pickup to which Bill replied “Non, a camper”. “Ah” he replied, shaking his head. Then a few moments later, cries of ‘Eureka’ as Monsieur Le Garage saw the answer to the conundrum and all would be OK and we wouldn’t need his spare Subaru engine after all, the VW could stay just a VW and not a VW ‘s’.

Apparently the cooling system is different from the pickup to a camper we now await the delivery of said pickup, as we are in desperate need of some plasterboard.

The week has seen some ups and downs; the main up of course was getting Sparky on site to start getting the wiring sorted,  another up was seeing the beautiful roof structure.

On the down side, was me falling off the steps and twisting my ankle but worst of all was our plan to insert the shower for bedroom 2 in the cupboard which use to be in bedroom 1. I had blocked off the doorway to the cupboard in bed 1 making it into a recessed book shelf.

Recessed surprise bookshelf

Then to our surprise when we broke out the false clay pot wall lining we found a tie bar right in the way. It might have been ok, other than the floor in the cupboard, in keeping with the front side of the house, is about 100mm higher which in turn meant that you would have to be a dwarf to get in the shower.

So the landlord and I had to come up with plan ‘B’ which is, the recessed bookshelf will become a recessed bookshelf come secret door, while the bedroom 2 side will be boxed out at the bottom, the toilet pan will now sit there, said tie bar will be hidden and some recessed glass shelves will be fitted with some LED down lights to show off the cleaned up stonework and the glass. Nice!

On the whole, progress has been good this week. All the walls are now in place for bedroom 2 and I can now run the pipe work and get it tested prior to finishing the plaster boarding to all the walls. Then it’s just a matter of decoration, simples!

I wish!

Paul.

                                                                                                                                                

Beware Of The Dreaded . . .

We were doing ever so well after the bride left us to fend for ourselves and returned to the UK to do some work. We did the shopping, cleaned the house, did the clothes washing, built things, yet for all this goodness, still managed to both get the lurgi. Now as all you blokes know, we chaps suffer much more than the ladies in the flu department, hence the sometimes grossly misunderstood and simply devastating ‘man flu’, but a case of the lurgy, well it’s pretty serious stuff is that! Beast and I performed a feat of synchronised rushing to the only toilet in the house all night long and we never once clashed on the stairs, or had to queue (perish the thought) for this only room. We reckon we could represent the UK in the 2012 Olympics if only this sport of champions could be recognised in time!

Monday was therefore an unscheduled rest day as we both fell into recovery and sleep mode and by tea time, after risking some agreeable beans on toast, had an early night, thankful for being cured.

We must have been spotted the next morning driving through he village in Paul’s white van, as Monsieur la Garage patron put his head round the gates as soon as we were back to give us the news that the engine was now an ex-engine, dead, deceased, defunct and no amount of nailing it back on it’s perch would ever make it talk to us again. He was impressed with my new stainless steel exhaust system though and was most emphatic that the truck was not in his way taking up too much space in his workshop and I set off in pursuit of a replacement motor, having politely declined his offer of a 2.0 litre flat 4 Subaru engine he had, which would fit in ‘no problem’. I found a replacement engine inside 5 minutes of looking on the web and spoke to Stuart in Winchester, just 7 miles from our UK base and a deal was struck and a ferry booked to collect the new unit next week. 

I’m trying to be completely optimistic with this, hoping that the new motor is okay and grateful that Paul has a van big enough to get the job done. It will be good to see the bride and the two pussy cats and we can have a little splurge at Screwfix and Waitrose and bring a few more home comforts back to the Loire.

Progress this week might have been slow to start, but we finished on a high and now have a kitchen / diner seemingly twice its previous useful size and two huge bedrooms and one and a half bathrooms upstairs. I’ve moved my bed downstairs into the salon to make room for the work and we will soon, new drainage connection permitting, have three bedrooms and bathrooms available. Just as well too, as my sister and bro’ in law are coming with the bride for Easter, so we’ll have a wonderfully full, happy and noisy household of five for some festive holiday fun ;~)

All the best and TTFN

LC

A very  rare image captured for ever, Mr Beast actually reading the instructions! Whatever next?

The dwarf wall was as high as the fridge and went past the fireplace

No more dust!

Room for singin' and dancin' too ;~)

Of Trucks and Salle des Bains

I used to enjoy snow when I was a kid who knew nothing of how much harder the stuff can make daily living, but now that I’m more adult than kid on most days, I’ve learned the reality of how much harder this cold white stuff makes daily working as well. This particularly applies to building work when one’s extremities tend to be much closer to nature.

One of this week’s missions was to find a stone mason who would understand what we now think we want to do to the main house’s sad neglected facades and since e-mail seems to be treated with suspicion even by those claiming to have it, we wrote carefully worded invitations to a number of local masons inviting them to come and see our project and were in the process of delivering them when the truck started to make some strange creaking noises.

Having found and fixed a leaking coolant hose and topped up the level, we set off to mason number two and by a magnificent feat of navigation, managed to break down in spectacular fashion right outside his workshop door. The right hand head gasket had blown, enveloping the truck in a cloud of steam and as I walked through the mist to the rear of the truck (where the engine is), it was behaving like a living breathing truculent steam locomotive just made to halt to let a herd of cattle cross the track.

The bride thinks I’m a bit crazy liking the truck so much, but he’s handled absolutely everything that’s been thrown at him so far and with ease and despite the heavy fuel consumption, is a joy to drive. Bertie is now practising his French in our local garage and the owner has given us the diagnosis and estimate of time and cost to remove the engine and put it to rights again. It’s a very realistic proposal and if I really can get truck back into service by the end of next week, then I’ll be a very happy man.

I’ve also learned a bit more of the local classic car fraternity and been told of the garage patron’s annual rallye to Mangy Cours in May when he gets to drive his BMW track car around the F1 circuit. I’m thinking Beast and moi may possibly see if we might tag along in the TR and have a bit of fun.

By the time I had truck recovered and got home, we had an e-mail response from mason number 2, giving his phone number and asking us to ring to make an appointment. The power of e-mail kind of works and Monsieur D arrived promptly the next day, understood what we wished to achieve without breaking the bank and promised his devis would arrive soon.

Meanwhile, the work is coming along a treat. Too cold o work outside, plan B is working a treat and inside the last 24 hours, an en-suite bathroom has been created in Paul’s bedroom. We’ll shop for a shower tray tomorrow or Friday and pick up a toilet and basin and see if we can and get some plumbing hooked up.

If we can keep up this rate of progress of a room a day, then the gites will be open for business in no time! I’m happy that things are progressing well, but realise that we have a lot of hard work to get through yet. The gites are the relatively easy parts of the project and as Paul and I know one another so well, we are finding it easy to develop construction details and achieve some good features as a result. 

Today’s morning tea delivery to me in the ‘hay loft’ resulted in the bride and me changing our thinking completely about the barn kitchen and we are now moving to the whole of the ground floor being one large kitchen diner with all ancillary functions relocated to adjoining spaces. This will give us the sort of kitchen we’ve always dreamed of and will become the working centre of the house, with direct access to the courtyard and our public spaces.

Saturday recap: an eventful week seeing the end of the snow, a sad temporary demise of truck, an even sadder parting with the bride, as she returned to the UK for business meetings, a window quotation from Lapeyre with half the windows and all the roof lights missing, a new upstairs room and purchase of all the fittings and plumbing supplies for the two new en-suite bathrooms to the big gite, all the 30 year plus old hay removed from the hayloft and barn dig now at 90%. Beast and I are dinning out tonight in Doue la Fontaine and we have a rest day tomorrow.

TTFN

LC

Before you ask why is Paul doing all the work, remember that someone has to take the pictures!

Life In The Deep Freeze

The snow came, stopped, stayed and then came back again. Temperatures sometimes venture into that heady region just above freezing for a few hours before settling right down again and today, six days after it came, the snow is glistening quite majestically under a furiously bright sunny sky at 2 degrees below. Indoors however, Eric Clapton is cheering us on, as we three adventurers prepare to eat the chicken casserole that’s being slow cooking for three hours causing gastric juices to flow with rising anticipation of the hearty glow soon to be within us, while we lay the table and pull corks from bottles.

My friend Paul arrived from Malta last weekend in his white van laden with tools and the bride finally made it late on Tuesday. However, this was after circling the airport at Poitiers while her pilot searched unsuccessfully to find a runway and then spent the next 2 hours being bussed back from Limoges while I slowly turned to ice in a deserted terminal building dreaming up equally strength sapping discomfitures for its architect for deciding that a heating system would have been an extravagance!

We are now three and enjoying the companionship of a bigger family and as suspected, within 48 hours of his arrival, Beast (old nickname with history, fortunately not all bad), has claimed my workshop as his own, installed racking for his tools and built a 3.8 metre long work bench, soon to be the envy of all who gaze upon it. He now only refers to the workshop as, ‘the joinery shop’, and I can see it may take a monumental force of personality ever to put it to my intended use as a home and workshop for my beloved classic cars!  

Having Paul here is a real bonus, as his professional skills are already boosting progress in leaps and bounds. 

The sub zero temperature however has made it impossible to work in the barn, so plan B has been put into place in the main house. The partition between Paul’s and the adjoining bedroom came down in a morning and sadly, the motor bike wallpaper in one room and the Spanish galleons in the other are now history as well. Miraculously, a beautiful limestone block wall was hiding under the wallpaper, this being glued directly to the dressed stonework, which is adding an unexpected additional touch of sophistication to the gites’ décor.

We’re going to investigate hot and cold water plumbing options tomorrow. Copper has ruled itself out due to its prohibitive price here, so it’s between two plastic systems, one of which comes with three entirely different jointing options. Why? Because it’s French!

Keep warm and more soon.

TTFN

LC

Letting the kids choose the wallpaper seemed a good idea at the time

Phil often remembers his day’s as a drummer with Genesis with a warm appreciation.