Le noyer et les pommiers qui dorment - Winter 2017

15 January 2017

We received a very special gift recently: an original ink and watercolour of La Fromagerie done with meticulous care by our friend M, (he of window-washing enthusiasm, kitchen skirting board prowess and fellow survivor of the Paddling Pool Summer of 2016). The barn is depicted circa 2015 (sans porch extension), but every detail is carefully represented: the blue and white chair/table set, the staircase that can just be glimpsed through the open French doors, the grape vine... We were thrilled and touched, as you will understand.

Ink and watercolour by M Kelleher

It's been a wild few days, weather-wise, and one of the shutters from the upstairs window was ripped off the wall in a particularly vicious gust of wind. It's heavy, so it hit the ground with a crash. Luckily, C was indoors, and not sunning himself on the terrace...I sound flippant, but actually, I feel pretty freaked out about what might have happened.

Looking pretty naked. Check the reflection of the sky in the window, and the colour of the sky overhead. 

The shutter fixing has been torn and rotated clockwise about 120 degrees...

...and the shutter didn't get away without damage, either.

Gregg and Tom will survey the damage, ensure that the the shutter is re-mounted securely (and will hopefully ascertain whether the other shutters are OK)...

So, after what he assures me (despite wayward heating and shutter dramas) has been a pleasant and peaceful time dans la France profonde, C is coming to the pointy end of his sojourn at the barn. These are his latest photos...:

Objat market one wintry Sunday morning

C's caption: 'The beast is hungry...'

The beast

Local residents

The fallen apples are still delicious, and those that are damaged are perfect for stewing.

C's caption: 'Beautiful sleeping trees' - Le noyer et les pommiers qui dorment

And 'Different time different mood' - (le noyer again, in all its glory)

This one is taken from the road; a better view of the barn itself.

We are starting to rev our engines for our next visit, 5.5 weeks away now. Between now and then, Tom is hoping to point the long wall that faces the orchard (assuming the really cold weather gives way to slightly milder temperatures), and Brian should be able to finalise the electrics (i.e. hide the junction box) in the dépendance, so that we can set up a study/office in there.

Working from home has never looked so inviting.

In the deep midwinter

5 January 2017

The barn welcomed its first independent visitor just before New Year; independent, that is, in the sense that we were not there to welcome him ourselves.

It's a very good thing that he is a good friend of very long standing, as he is not just visitor #1 (family doesn't count), but guinea pig #1. As luck would have it, it has fallen to him to test the heating for the first time, and let's just say it has not been a walk in the park.

Fortunately, for heating commissioning purposes, the daytime temperatures have been very low this last week - it was -6 yesterday morning - yet friend C has been sweltering in tropical, clothes-optional heat, with doors and windows flung open to enhance the sauna effect. You see, the thermostat seems to be ineffective, or the pump, or, oh, who cares? - the bottom line is that the boiler is massively powerful and needs to be reigned in a little. A lottle.

I guess it's better than feeble heating, huh?

So C has been liaising valiantly between us and Benoit the plumber, keeping notes and delivering heating bulletins, all the time enslaved by the pellet-hungry boiler which has yet to learn who's boss.

In between saunas, he has managed to find time to go for long walks, cycle to the village, and even drive to Objat (the car started for him!). He has also managed to take some rather lovely photos, so, without further ado, feast your eyes on these images of the Barn in Winter:

Freezing fog 

Frozen rain chains

Local spiders have mastered the art of slow - very, very slow - crochet

Brunch

View from upstairs

Lakes of mist at dawn

We are squirming that C has had to pioneer his way through his visit. G is particularly frustrated to be so far away while all this pipes/valves/thermostat blahblah is going on: he'd like to be commissioning it himself. Me? I just want it to work at the touch of a button. Please hide all those dials and manifolds from my tender gaze.

Tom has been in to tweak the rain chains (hands up all who noticed the double lengths of chain in the photo above - that's OK, I did not expect a forest of hands; truly, I am not disappointed at all) and bury an electrical conduit to the dépendance to replace the original one, which was somehow, er, lost during driveway construction...There's been a lot of head scratching about that, I can tell you.

Our next visit will be at the end of February, which coincides neatly with the sixth anniversary of our first sight of La Fromagerie in Feb 2011. This time, we are planning to do Absolutely Nothing, but we shall see. One thing written in indelible ink in the diary is 'Collect daughter C from Limoges'... :)