Crazy busy

4 May 2014

We spent the public holiday (raining with a chance of showers) inside the barn, working away on our separate projects: G applying coat # 2 of vitrificateur to the stairs; me painting shutters and coat # 2 on the shower room door. Despite the grey day, the light inside was amazing - and the new floor enhances it, which is good.

The driveway alongside the barn was jam-packed with cars, since Mr and Mme across the road were the focus of this year's festivities. Over the course of the day, various family members wandered past and stopped to say hello or introduce themselves: Jean-Marie, his wife, his son (and friend) and his daughters...

At 12, the noon bells in Chabrignac let us know that it was lunchtime, and Jean-Marie promptly appeared at our front door to invite us to join them for lunch. We were paint spattered and rather enjoying our quiet companionship, so politely refused... Besides, we had Plans for lunch - a picnic on the the floor of the barn - baguette and chêvre, tomatoes and carrots, and tea!

 

In the late afternoon, once the painting was done, we tackled the dépendance. First, G and I took turns up the ladder, chopping away the dead remains of the lierre that had infiltrated the roof. It was dangerous work, because the heavy slate roof tiles were sliding off, so it was important not not stand below them. Then we attached a string and rope to the eyelets of the enormous tarpaulin (bâche) and tied a heavy metal thing to the free end. G threw the metal thing over the roof and then, climbing up on the high bank opposite the dépendance, I pulled and G pushed, until we had the heavy tarp up and over the crest of the roof. At one point, the string broke under tension and I ended up flat on my back in the long grass. Think Mo of the 3 Stooges.

Jean-Marie couldn't resist the temptation to join in and together we wrestled the tarpaulin into submission. By this time, the rain had begun in earnest and the wind was getting up, so picture the three of us in the driving rain, struggling with ropes and flapping corners... In the end, though we three were soaked through and cold, we had the little building wrapped like a big green Christmas gift, and it was gratifying to see the rain sliding off the tarp.

 

We got home at nine that night, heated up some leftovers, and reflected on a very successful Labour Day.


Friday, our last day, was supposed to be a day off. We'd imagined mooching about the Troc, window shopping for a fridge or a bed, stopping for a coffee, staring into space... Like all best-laid plans, it did not exactly turn out like that. We must have driven miles. We collected the basin, returned the paint, bought an old kitchen table and a little armchair from Troc (two separate trips; an hour round trip each time)...We found coir matting for the front door and woodworm treatment for the old lintels too. We even managed to squeeze in a visit to Joan and Boris, which was lovely.

Saturday, we woke extra early, packed up and and were at the barn at seven. Dressed for travelling, there I was, balancing on a chair held steady by G, painting the two oak lintels in the living room of the barn (that we suspect of having woodworm past or present). Then the military operation swung into action. G dropped me in town, so I could do some shopping (for gifts for offspring), while he headed off to Troc to get some 'Van Gogh' reed-matting chairs that we'd spotted the day before. He had to get them packed away in the barn, say goodbye to neighbours, check out from the accommodation and be back at the hire car place before they closed at 12. (Amazing what one man will do to avoid a bit of shopping.)

We met at the hire car place, caught the train to Paris, then the flight to Sydney via Dubai...

Butter with a hint of honey

30 April 2014

The meeting with Chas went well. We are reasonably confident that the plumbing will all go according to plan, though once he has been in and fitted things, there will be a fair amount of plaster repair work to do, which Tom is grumbling about. Ah well.

We had a very productive afternoon in the ZI (industrial area), home of the megastores, ticking off various things on our must-do list: towel rail/radiator, bolt for the barn doors, tarpaulin and strapping for the dépendance... Also, convinced by everyone that we'd bought an inferior shutter paint, we chose a different (more expensive) brand (like ours, with a ten year guarantee), only this time in lavender blue, since our dove grey was not an option.

After an early start on Tuesday, we began on the shutter painting exercise by taking three down and setting them up on trestles in the barn. Thankfully the light inside is good; outside it was raining buckets. While G sanded and then applied a first coat of vitrificateur (varnish) to the stairs, I began with the shutters. After only one or two brush strokes, it became apparent that this paint was every bit as thin as the last. And it was too intense a colour. So, I wiped it off and started on the 4th coat of the original paint. MUCH better.

Lunch break

Phil arrived and began to hang the lovely oak door he has made for the shower room. There was a lovely companionable atmosphere in the barn, with the three of us working away on our own projects, and conducting a desultory conversation. G even dug out the camp stove and some mugs and we enjoyed a cup of tea. Then, while the shutters were drying, I put the first vitrificateur coat on the door.

Brian stopped by in the late afternoon and G and he went over all the electrical details while I continued to paint...and paint... and then together, G and I tidied and cleared the barn in readiness for Tom and Gregg, who were coming early to paint the floor. The last thing we did was open one of the tins so that we could see the colour.

Butter, with a hint of honey. Maybe more butter, less honey.

Another early start this morning: on the road to the barn, skeins of mist rising from the forests. Gregg had opened up and we hung the shutters together before Tom arrived. A cup of tea and a chat before the day's work began; theirs is not a high-stress lifestyle :)

Before they began painting, Tom went upstairs and handed the upstairs shutters down to Gregg, so that I could paint them.

G climbed the rogue walnut tree that had been growing sideways out from under the dépendance and, after clipping off the smaller branches near the telephone wires, set about using Gregg's chainsaw to cut down the tree in earnest. It's something we've been planning to deal with for ages.



I set my shutter painting workshop up in Jean-Marie's cabine next door. Surrounded by the woodpile and generations of tools, I spent the morning painting happily in the gloom, listening to the sounds of the hamlet: birds, children playing, church bells... Every now and then there'd be a little commotion as a tiny bird swooped into the cabine, returning with a morsel for her chicks, whose straining beaks I could just see if I stood on tiptoe.

Before you all say it, yes, I have messed up my jumper (an old one chosen for the sacrifice).

By noon, the first coat of paint was down on the floor, the walnut tree was history, and I had painted one side of 5 shutters. Very satisfying. After lunch, G went off to get things on the list, leaving me to continue with the shutters, while Gregg and Tom began on coat #2 of the floor.

Sanding the floor

First coat

Finished!

Spot the acorn detail

At the end of the day, the floor was done and Tom had gone off home in his little white van. Gregg stayed back to fit our lovely new bolt to the barn doors and then wandered off home. G and I were weary but still full of beans, so we spent a while clearing up and laying weed mat around the new plants and only reached home as the 8pm bells were chiming.

Newsflash: every single new plant has new, bright green leaves.

Tomorrow is la fête du premier mai - a public holiday - so we are looking forward to a quiet day, working at the barn. I have three more shutters to paint; G wants to put another coat on the stairs and shower room door...

Perfect weather if you are either a) a duck or b) a plant

27 April 2014

Friday at the barn was spent planting and digging and planting some more. There'd been a deluge in the night, so the nursery-raised shrubs that we'd planted the day before were looking perky, if a trifle baffled. The rain held off all morning, which was convenient, but the ground itself was muddy and difficult to work. After all the plants were in, we wrestled with long strips of weed mat, which turned into sails in the wind. At last we managed to get it pinned down with metal staples and old wooden beams that had been stripped out of the barn (not for this express purpose, you understand). The effect is suitably rustic, but more important than that, it will hopefully serve to mark the edge of the 'civilised world' when the grass grows back around the new plants and the over-zealous neighbour or roads department people approach with their tractors.

We put in several hours of work before we had to get cleaned up and head for the airport to collect G's aunt, who was to be our first official visitor.

The local airport is smart and new and, well, tiny. I have a suspicion that the woman at the check-in desk also serves the coffee and pressions in the combined arrivals/departures café. And wasn't it also her on the runway with the ping-pong bats, guiding a plane towards the terminal building?

We had a very busy but fun weekend, sharing with our guest the delights of the barn, the local villages, the market, the local Troc (emporium of second-hand everything), and consuming unhealthy quantities of good food and vin rouge by the glass. Yesterday, we were chilled through to our marrows as we'd spent hours standing around on the bare concrete floor of the barn in our stockinged feet, discussing details and schedules with Tom, so we repaired to our local Bar Tabac dreaming of a restorative cup of tea and, perhaps, an omelette piperade.

Omelette piperade

The owner (who is now on nodding terms with us) seemed reluctant to make omelettes - piperade or plain - instead suggesting quite forcefully his special of the day. Soon we were tucking into generous bowls of duck/haricot bean/potato/carrot/onion stew, served with chunks of crispy baguette. Talk about restorative.

But the pièce de résistance of the weekend was Sunday lunch in a very understated restaurant (a warm and welcoming refuge from driving rain and a chilly wind): we chose parmentier de confit de canard et patates douces. Very, very delicious.

Parmentier de confit de canard et patates douces

Clearly we are bad news for ducks.

This coming week looks as follows:
Monday - meet with Chas to discuss the plumbing; make a start on varnishing the stairs; finish planting
Tuesday - meet with Phil to discuss snags; Phil to hang the bathroom door; finish varnishing stairs
Wednesday - Tom to paint downstairs floor
Thursday (la fête du premier mai public holiday) - paint shutters
Friday - paint shutters; attend to dépendance (pack away tools etc. tidy, support walls with strapping and possibly waterproof with bâche); bid neighbours au revoir
Saturday - check out from chez Feral; hand back hire car; catch train to Paris