The entire renovation of 42rvh just flashed before my eyes once more, and into my joints and bones via a van and 'dechetterie' or waste disposal.
I finally got around to removing all the debris and waste that I had temporarily parked in the empty room on the ground floor - the room whose owner was less than happy when he found it all there - how was I to know?, the place looked long abandoned and uninhabitable.
I shared a van rental with Patrick for the day and we shifted two loads out of the bar in the morning and then two loads out of 42rvh in the afternoon. In the process I relived 18 months of renovation as out came old doors, balustrades, tiling, baths, radiators, plasterboard, plumbing, electrics, wood and walls (in the form of hundreds of bags of debris).
Each load carried took me straight back to the time we removed it from it's original place and how and why it had to go and what is in it's place now.
But I am very very glad that I will never see them again. I must have moved half that rubble three times already and that was definitely the last. When we finally finished at six o'clock I was exhausted. I hadn't felt that tired for a very long time and my bones and muscles are definitely feeling it today.
That finally brings to an end the long running Operation Barney - hurrah, and I did manage to find my missing grout testing board - the one I had used to mix different measures of colour until we got just the right shade. I wasn't going to throw that away
To cap the day off, I had guests for dinner at eight, so two hours to shower, change, get my breath back and get dinner ready and the table set, when actually all I wanted to do was lie down.
I sometimes wonder why we put ourselves through these things - but dinner was a success and the guests are very happy and I feel better now that all the debris has gone from that room, so I guess it was worth all the effort.
Everything I pick up feels very heavy today though
Showing posts with label renovation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label renovation. Show all posts
Thursday, 26 June 2008
Monday, 4 February 2008
Getting there
Debrah's weekend visit disappeared in a flurry of socialising/networking and sorting/box clearing. The poor thing never seems to get a break at the moment and, of course, the weather turned a bit changeable just as she arrived and looks to be settling back down again just as she's returned to rainy London.
On Friday evening we finally got out to Simon and Juliet's place at Mailhac and were introduced to their friends Peter and Sally, who have run a hotel barge for several years but are now embarking on a new venture in a similar field to us. All useful contacts and business exchange opportunities a plenty, but more importantly, just really good to meet interesting people down here with whom we can have a really good dinner party - how terribly seventies does that sound? - have finally turned into my parents.
Today we met Jamie and Greca, who run the Languedoc Roussillon version of the French Entree website. They came for lunch but we subsequently realised that Debrah's flight was an hour and a quarter earlier than we thought when we made the arrangement, so it was all a bit rushed. Still, good business contacts and nice people too who could well become more socialising type chums who know lots of other interesting people here and in the region.
In between times we managed to empty or move every single last one of the boxes that were still in the dining room to be, which is now thankfully very nearly empty, after 18 months of operating as a builders yard and general storeroom - mind you the walls have taken a bit of a bashing and a final paint touch-up is needed. It would all be a lot less frustrating if the furniture order from Ikea would just arrive, but that is proving as difficult to arrange as it ever was and looks like it may be another last minute, skin of the teeth situation just before the first guests arrive.
Yes, we have guests arriving in two weeks time and we have a whole load of others following on behind them. Today has seen no less than two bookings and four further enquiries including our first potential honeymooners and the latest enquiry just moments ago as I was typing this very paragraph.
All of which makes the fact that the kitchen sink is blocked up very very very frustrating. It showed signs of backing up this morning, after working perfectly well last night. This afternoon I tried the plunger - I tried opening up the U-bend under the sink and I tried some caustic soda crystals designed for the task. The result is that while, this morning, the water drained away but slower than it should, it now won't drain away at all!! It seems that my attempts to clear the problem have made it worse, which shows what a genius I am at DIY - Chris, where are you when I need you?
I guess I need to be able to cope with the unexpected - so I am not going to panic. In fact I am going to go to bed and look at it afresh in the morning when I'm sure a solution will present itself.
On Friday evening we finally got out to Simon and Juliet's place at Mailhac and were introduced to their friends Peter and Sally, who have run a hotel barge for several years but are now embarking on a new venture in a similar field to us. All useful contacts and business exchange opportunities a plenty, but more importantly, just really good to meet interesting people down here with whom we can have a really good dinner party - how terribly seventies does that sound? - have finally turned into my parents.
Today we met Jamie and Greca, who run the Languedoc Roussillon version of the French Entree website. They came for lunch but we subsequently realised that Debrah's flight was an hour and a quarter earlier than we thought when we made the arrangement, so it was all a bit rushed. Still, good business contacts and nice people too who could well become more socialising type chums who know lots of other interesting people here and in the region.
In between times we managed to empty or move every single last one of the boxes that were still in the dining room to be, which is now thankfully very nearly empty, after 18 months of operating as a builders yard and general storeroom - mind you the walls have taken a bit of a bashing and a final paint touch-up is needed. It would all be a lot less frustrating if the furniture order from Ikea would just arrive, but that is proving as difficult to arrange as it ever was and looks like it may be another last minute, skin of the teeth situation just before the first guests arrive.
Yes, we have guests arriving in two weeks time and we have a whole load of others following on behind them. Today has seen no less than two bookings and four further enquiries including our first potential honeymooners and the latest enquiry just moments ago as I was typing this very paragraph.
All of which makes the fact that the kitchen sink is blocked up very very very frustrating. It showed signs of backing up this morning, after working perfectly well last night. This afternoon I tried the plunger - I tried opening up the U-bend under the sink and I tried some caustic soda crystals designed for the task. The result is that while, this morning, the water drained away but slower than it should, it now won't drain away at all!! It seems that my attempts to clear the problem have made it worse, which shows what a genius I am at DIY - Chris, where are you when I need you?
I guess I need to be able to cope with the unexpected - so I am not going to panic. In fact I am going to go to bed and look at it afresh in the morning when I'm sure a solution will present itself.
Saturday, 8 December 2007
In the know
The day after Christmas officially started, the sun unexpectedly came out for the Saturday morning market, which put everyone in a jolly, festive mood - everyone except the man in charge of the ice rink, who seemed to be having some trouble with his temperature control and was temporarily in charge of a very shallow swimming pool, which obviously isn't much good to anyone.
It really did feel like Christmas at last - the usual market stalls had spread throughout the streets surrounding the square (because of the ice pool or swimming rink thingy and the Christmas market log huts taking up the food market's usual spots) which meant it was more crowded and busier than is the norm. There were also, for the first time, Christmas trees and bunches of holly and bunches of mistletoe for sale and all the shops were much busier than normal. It seems that when the town says Christmas has officially started, everyone takes it literally and suddenly starts buying presents and decorations and drinking 'vin chaud' and saying 'bonne Noel'
The news that the Irish bar was now owned by an Irishman was greeted with enormous joy by the Saturday lunchtime crew - who had absolutely no idea that Patrick was even interested in the place. It seems that the ex-pat community are the only ones not in the know. Even Gary, who seems to know everyone in town had no idea and it's not very often that I can upstage him with local information. The only Frenchman who didn't seem to know (and indeed didn't believe it for at least ten minutes) was Pierre - that's what happens when you hang around with a bunch of foreigners all the time, you end up being treated like them and not told anything. Interestingly the rumour around the town seemed to be that an American had bought the place - Patrick lives in Chicago most of the time so I guess it was understandable that the US link emerged.
Before I got down to the market I put a first coat of paint on the chimney breast and the inside staircase wall in the studio. It was a fiddly job for a Saturday morning at the end of a long week but the dark colour on these two walls made a big difference to the overall look and feel of the finished studio. I am still very frustrated about running out of the clunch emulsion because, otherwise, it would now be finished apart from the woodwork. After a couple of hours out in the lovely sunshine over lunch, I returned to apply the second coat and to do some last tidying up before I return to London tomorrow.
After the dryest November on record for 60 years, the start of December has seen some rain and then some. It poured down all last night and started again late afternoon today and is still at it as I write this evening. I am not bothered - I feel so tired from the last week of work that I think I could sleep for 24 hours. As I have a plane to catch at 10.30am, that isn't going to happen but I am going straight to bed now. Goodnight
It really did feel like Christmas at last - the usual market stalls had spread throughout the streets surrounding the square (because of the ice pool or swimming rink thingy and the Christmas market log huts taking up the food market's usual spots) which meant it was more crowded and busier than is the norm. There were also, for the first time, Christmas trees and bunches of holly and bunches of mistletoe for sale and all the shops were much busier than normal. It seems that when the town says Christmas has officially started, everyone takes it literally and suddenly starts buying presents and decorations and drinking 'vin chaud' and saying 'bonne Noel'
The news that the Irish bar was now owned by an Irishman was greeted with enormous joy by the Saturday lunchtime crew - who had absolutely no idea that Patrick was even interested in the place. It seems that the ex-pat community are the only ones not in the know. Even Gary, who seems to know everyone in town had no idea and it's not very often that I can upstage him with local information. The only Frenchman who didn't seem to know (and indeed didn't believe it for at least ten minutes) was Pierre - that's what happens when you hang around with a bunch of foreigners all the time, you end up being treated like them and not told anything. Interestingly the rumour around the town seemed to be that an American had bought the place - Patrick lives in Chicago most of the time so I guess it was understandable that the US link emerged.
Before I got down to the market I put a first coat of paint on the chimney breast and the inside staircase wall in the studio. It was a fiddly job for a Saturday morning at the end of a long week but the dark colour on these two walls made a big difference to the overall look and feel of the finished studio. I am still very frustrated about running out of the clunch emulsion because, otherwise, it would now be finished apart from the woodwork. After a couple of hours out in the lovely sunshine over lunch, I returned to apply the second coat and to do some last tidying up before I return to London tomorrow.
After the dryest November on record for 60 years, the start of December has seen some rain and then some. It poured down all last night and started again late afternoon today and is still at it as I write this evening. I am not bothered - I feel so tired from the last week of work that I think I could sleep for 24 hours. As I have a plane to catch at 10.30am, that isn't going to happen but I am going straight to bed now. Goodnight
Wednesday, 5 December 2007
A proper cup of tea
I awoke feeling a bit stiff and sore from yesterday's exertions but after a good stretch of the muscles and a cup of coffee or two everything settled down to it's normal level of acheyness and twinging.
I wondered why it was quite dark until I stuck my head out of the window and realised that it was really very foggy - a quite unusual occurence round here - I couldn't even see to the square at the bottom of the hill which is only a few hundred metres ( I typed yards there first before realising how much of an old colonial that made me sound - still, that was my first instinct - can we bring back the imperial system; it was so wonderfully irreverent and confusing for everyone and I can imagine it would wind up the French no end if we proposed it for all Europe at the EU)
This morning I used up the last of the clunch emulsion which covers all our ceilings and, as predicted, I ran out before being able to finish the full ceiling in the studio. How very frustrating - I scraped every last drop from the tin. I went round the room making sure that all the edges where the clunch would meet other colours had some paint on so that I could make a decent join with them and be able to slap the clunch on when we bring another tin down from the UK with us just before Christmas.
By lunchtime the sun had burned away the fog and it turned into a decent day - well actually, an exceptionally good day for December - I was wearing a T-shirt and not feeling at all cold. I decided to make the most of the dry and sunny day and headed to the discount carpet store for the flooring that we needed for the studio living space and bedroom. I knew they had it in store because I checked it with Debrah on Monday before she went back to London. I didn't want to wait for two weeks until we can lay it because I know from experience that there will be a national shortage of that sisal flooring at that time. The only trouble with my plan was that I was on my own.
No problem at the store. One piece at 4 x 5 metres and one piece at 4 x 6 metres and a 20kg tub of adhesive - all in stock and a very willing helper to get it all loaded into the topless Audi. I couldn't see out of the back, of course, and actually I couldn't see to the right because of the other piece on the passenger seat which was a tricky at junctions and also hampered my gear-changing a little bit - not very safe or, probably, legal but I got home OK. Then I realised that what had seemed fairly manageable with two people was extremely awkward and damn heavy to move on my own - just getting the sisal out of the seat spaces was a huge effort. By the time I had got each piece onto my back and shoulders and carried them through the front doors, up the stairs and into the apartment, I was absolutely covered in sweat. Furthermore, as I wasn't going to lay them immediately, I knew that they had to be rolled rather than folded and crumpled, as they were for the journey home and the lugging inside - so I had to drag them into the empty office space where there is enough room to unfold and roll up a piece of carpet of that size - sounds easy - it most definitely wasn't.
Since we ran out of teabags at the weekend, I have taken to making a pot of tea with proper loose tea from a tin (bought as Christmas gifts last year but not given to anyone). I boil the kettle and warm the teapot with hot water and make the tea and pour it through a strainer into a (the) china cup and scoff a load of biscuits. I definitely am regressing into an old colonial. But you know, it all makes a lot of sense. It means I stop work for ten to fifteen minutes whilst I prepare it which gives me a bit of a rest. The tea is incredibly refreshing when your throat is dry and full of paint fumes and the biscuits perk me up just when my energy is beginning to flag and take me through to whatever time I finish. An afternoon tea break, about 4pm - I highly recommend it.
So it was that after sorting the sisal carpet, I stopped for tea and resolved to carry on with some oil eggshell painting of woodwork and suddenly it was 8.30pm and I had to stop because I was tired and hungry and my right hand was really sore.
I was so glad for the left over spaghetti bolognese - minimum preparation for supper - and now I am going to put my weary self to bed.
I wondered why it was quite dark until I stuck my head out of the window and realised that it was really very foggy - a quite unusual occurence round here - I couldn't even see to the square at the bottom of the hill which is only a few hundred metres ( I typed yards there first before realising how much of an old colonial that made me sound - still, that was my first instinct - can we bring back the imperial system; it was so wonderfully irreverent and confusing for everyone and I can imagine it would wind up the French no end if we proposed it for all Europe at the EU)
This morning I used up the last of the clunch emulsion which covers all our ceilings and, as predicted, I ran out before being able to finish the full ceiling in the studio. How very frustrating - I scraped every last drop from the tin. I went round the room making sure that all the edges where the clunch would meet other colours had some paint on so that I could make a decent join with them and be able to slap the clunch on when we bring another tin down from the UK with us just before Christmas.
By lunchtime the sun had burned away the fog and it turned into a decent day - well actually, an exceptionally good day for December - I was wearing a T-shirt and not feeling at all cold. I decided to make the most of the dry and sunny day and headed to the discount carpet store for the flooring that we needed for the studio living space and bedroom. I knew they had it in store because I checked it with Debrah on Monday before she went back to London. I didn't want to wait for two weeks until we can lay it because I know from experience that there will be a national shortage of that sisal flooring at that time. The only trouble with my plan was that I was on my own.
No problem at the store. One piece at 4 x 5 metres and one piece at 4 x 6 metres and a 20kg tub of adhesive - all in stock and a very willing helper to get it all loaded into the topless Audi. I couldn't see out of the back, of course, and actually I couldn't see to the right because of the other piece on the passenger seat which was a tricky at junctions and also hampered my gear-changing a little bit - not very safe or, probably, legal but I got home OK. Then I realised that what had seemed fairly manageable with two people was extremely awkward and damn heavy to move on my own - just getting the sisal out of the seat spaces was a huge effort. By the time I had got each piece onto my back and shoulders and carried them through the front doors, up the stairs and into the apartment, I was absolutely covered in sweat. Furthermore, as I wasn't going to lay them immediately, I knew that they had to be rolled rather than folded and crumpled, as they were for the journey home and the lugging inside - so I had to drag them into the empty office space where there is enough room to unfold and roll up a piece of carpet of that size - sounds easy - it most definitely wasn't.
Since we ran out of teabags at the weekend, I have taken to making a pot of tea with proper loose tea from a tin (bought as Christmas gifts last year but not given to anyone). I boil the kettle and warm the teapot with hot water and make the tea and pour it through a strainer into a (the) china cup and scoff a load of biscuits. I definitely am regressing into an old colonial. But you know, it all makes a lot of sense. It means I stop work for ten to fifteen minutes whilst I prepare it which gives me a bit of a rest. The tea is incredibly refreshing when your throat is dry and full of paint fumes and the biscuits perk me up just when my energy is beginning to flag and take me through to whatever time I finish. An afternoon tea break, about 4pm - I highly recommend it.
So it was that after sorting the sisal carpet, I stopped for tea and resolved to carry on with some oil eggshell painting of woodwork and suddenly it was 8.30pm and I had to stop because I was tired and hungry and my right hand was really sore.
I was so glad for the left over spaghetti bolognese - minimum preparation for supper - and now I am going to put my weary self to bed.
Tuesday, 4 December 2007
Undercoating
Debrah flew back to London yesterday and the apartment suddenly feels very empty without her. That's the problem with having a really good weekend together - you miss each other even more when it's over.
After dropping Debrah at the airport, I returned to the seemingly never-ending painting. I put a second coat on the studio kitchen alcove, which was a fiddly job - no 'glory painting' involved at all - but it looks excellent now. I spent the evening in front of my computer working on forecasts for London.
Today, I vowed that I would finish all the remaining undercoating of the plastering done by the Poles a couple of weeks ago. Easy vow to make but much harder to implement - eight and a half hours later and it was done, but what a soul destroying job it is. You spend all day working your butt off, up and down the scaffolding, moving stuff around the room out of your way, doing a bit of sanding and tidying up of corners and plug points as you go along and then vacuuming up the mess, thinning down the undercoat with water because the plaster sucks all the moisture out of it so that it starts peeling off again and then having it splashing around all over the place because it's a bit watery, having to climb back down the scaffold when you run out of paint because you are on your own, having to climb back down the scaffold when the phone goes and you have forgotten to put it your pocket when you are expecting an important call, having to climb back down the scaffold when you've got up there in position and realise you have left the paint on the floor (as I did once today) and then, when you've finished, it looks pretty much the same as it did before you started!
But it had to be done so no point going on about it - without the undercoat, the topcoat just wouldn't look as good - it's as simple as that - and it's done now so I can do colours tomorrow - hurrah.
After dropping Debrah at the airport, I returned to the seemingly never-ending painting. I put a second coat on the studio kitchen alcove, which was a fiddly job - no 'glory painting' involved at all - but it looks excellent now. I spent the evening in front of my computer working on forecasts for London.
Today, I vowed that I would finish all the remaining undercoating of the plastering done by the Poles a couple of weeks ago. Easy vow to make but much harder to implement - eight and a half hours later and it was done, but what a soul destroying job it is. You spend all day working your butt off, up and down the scaffolding, moving stuff around the room out of your way, doing a bit of sanding and tidying up of corners and plug points as you go along and then vacuuming up the mess, thinning down the undercoat with water because the plaster sucks all the moisture out of it so that it starts peeling off again and then having it splashing around all over the place because it's a bit watery, having to climb back down the scaffold when you run out of paint because you are on your own, having to climb back down the scaffold when the phone goes and you have forgotten to put it your pocket when you are expecting an important call, having to climb back down the scaffold when you've got up there in position and realise you have left the paint on the floor (as I did once today) and then, when you've finished, it looks pretty much the same as it did before you started!
But it had to be done so no point going on about it - without the undercoat, the topcoat just wouldn't look as good - it's as simple as that - and it's done now so I can do colours tomorrow - hurrah.
Sunday, 2 December 2007
A good weekend
Happily, the forecast cloud and rain for this weekend arrived during Saturday evening and had gone by Sunday morning. This worked out very well for us because by Saturday evening we were both extremely weary from a day of painting and shelf building. So much so, we tucked ourselves up in bed with a movie soon after 9pm.
Naturally we had managed a quick visit to the market in the morning, but with so much to be done we didn't hang around and certainly there was no thought of a casual Saturday lunchtime beverage. Instead we hurried home with our shopping and got on with the multitude of jobs still to be done before our Christmas guests arrive in three weeks time. It would be great if Debrah could stay for the week and help out because we certainly get on much quicker with two pairs of hands and it is just so good to be here together putting the finishing touches to things - we haven't spent enough time here, just the two of us and it was so much nicer to be sharing the joy and the pain - the joy of seeing the final elements coming together and the pain of aching limbs.
At least we now have an operational bathroom to soak the aching limbs and Debrah duly set up what seemed like a hundred candles and a litre of bath foam to create the correct ambiance - we have decided that we didn't quite get the lighting right in this, our own bathroom, but we will sort it out.
We set to work again this morning but I could tell that we were feeling the effects of what has been an arduous few weeks for us both in our different ways and a change of view would be invaluable before another busy week kicks in. So we stopped just after lunch and cleaned ourselves up and took advantage of the lovely Autumn sunshine. Normally we would have started up the trusty Audi and gone for a drive into the beautiful Aude countryside but for a change today we went for a walk around the town.
There was good reason for this. In the car park at the top of the hill there has been a good old fashioned fair in place for a couple of weeks so we set off in that direction to check it out. We were met by the usual sights and sounds of any fair the world over - inappropriate rock music blaring out above the usual collection of dodgy air rifle and floating duck stalls, dodgems, house of horrors, crepes and churros and 'le barbe du papa' (fathers beard - a sort of lollipop that you dunk into flavoured sherbet type stuff) and kid's carousels. Except that - hold on a minute - that carousel is being operated by four real live shetland ponies, each with a saddle on it's back and pulling little carriages round and round! Only in France could you still get away with that. It bought a very big smile to Debrah's face though and she even sat down for a minute or two on a dodgy plastic chair to watch the sad looking little ponies walk round in circles with equally sad looking little children on their backs or in the carriages behind them.
We rather easily resisted the temptation to waste any of our money on any of the stalls or rides and wandered down the Boulevard Barbes past the big wheel, which we decided to save for Christmas, towards the exhibition hall, the 'Salle du Dome'. We had read that there was a dog and cat show there this weekend - or to be more precise a puppy and kitten show - and there is nothing that Debrah likes more than a puppy or a kitten and the excitement was getting too much for her as we approached the doors.
Debrah has always wanted a dog. We had one unfortunate dog owning experience for three months about six years ago with a mad greyhound that liked eating chocolates and squirrels in equal measure - it's nose rooted out the chocolates at home and it's speed caught squirrels in the park - both proved to be too much for us to cope with at the time.
The time isn't right just now either with us both flying back and forwards between France and England, but it might be if the business get's going soon and I am based here more permanently. Anyway, those considerations didn't get in the way of a very happy hour stroking and petting and saying hello to puppy after puppy on stall after stall. The Weimeraners proved to be a winner, as did the french bulldogs and jack russels and the setter and the dachsund and the german shepherds and every single dog there as well as a few cute bewildered looking kittens. Debrah would have taken them all home, which would have been interesting, not to say expensive, but common sense prevailed for now. We'll see what happens in the coming year.
We walked back via the Place Carnot, where overnight all the wooden huts for the Christmas market have been set up and the ice rink is well under construction. Christmas officially starts here next Friday, the 7th (so just over two weeks before the big day) when the market is opened and the lights turned on, a far cry from the two month onslaught in London.
Debrah said "Thank you for making me go out - I had a lovely time", which is why we should be together more often.
To finish a fabulous day I cooked Debrah's favourite chocolate pudding for dessert.
I spoil that girl - a warm moment shared early on followed by breakfast in bed, ponies, puppies, kittens and a chocolate pudding - all in one day
Naturally we had managed a quick visit to the market in the morning, but with so much to be done we didn't hang around and certainly there was no thought of a casual Saturday lunchtime beverage. Instead we hurried home with our shopping and got on with the multitude of jobs still to be done before our Christmas guests arrive in three weeks time. It would be great if Debrah could stay for the week and help out because we certainly get on much quicker with two pairs of hands and it is just so good to be here together putting the finishing touches to things - we haven't spent enough time here, just the two of us and it was so much nicer to be sharing the joy and the pain - the joy of seeing the final elements coming together and the pain of aching limbs.
At least we now have an operational bathroom to soak the aching limbs and Debrah duly set up what seemed like a hundred candles and a litre of bath foam to create the correct ambiance - we have decided that we didn't quite get the lighting right in this, our own bathroom, but we will sort it out.
We set to work again this morning but I could tell that we were feeling the effects of what has been an arduous few weeks for us both in our different ways and a change of view would be invaluable before another busy week kicks in. So we stopped just after lunch and cleaned ourselves up and took advantage of the lovely Autumn sunshine. Normally we would have started up the trusty Audi and gone for a drive into the beautiful Aude countryside but for a change today we went for a walk around the town.
There was good reason for this. In the car park at the top of the hill there has been a good old fashioned fair in place for a couple of weeks so we set off in that direction to check it out. We were met by the usual sights and sounds of any fair the world over - inappropriate rock music blaring out above the usual collection of dodgy air rifle and floating duck stalls, dodgems, house of horrors, crepes and churros and 'le barbe du papa' (fathers beard - a sort of lollipop that you dunk into flavoured sherbet type stuff) and kid's carousels. Except that - hold on a minute - that carousel is being operated by four real live shetland ponies, each with a saddle on it's back and pulling little carriages round and round! Only in France could you still get away with that. It bought a very big smile to Debrah's face though and she even sat down for a minute or two on a dodgy plastic chair to watch the sad looking little ponies walk round in circles with equally sad looking little children on their backs or in the carriages behind them.
We rather easily resisted the temptation to waste any of our money on any of the stalls or rides and wandered down the Boulevard Barbes past the big wheel, which we decided to save for Christmas, towards the exhibition hall, the 'Salle du Dome'. We had read that there was a dog and cat show there this weekend - or to be more precise a puppy and kitten show - and there is nothing that Debrah likes more than a puppy or a kitten and the excitement was getting too much for her as we approached the doors.
Debrah has always wanted a dog. We had one unfortunate dog owning experience for three months about six years ago with a mad greyhound that liked eating chocolates and squirrels in equal measure - it's nose rooted out the chocolates at home and it's speed caught squirrels in the park - both proved to be too much for us to cope with at the time.
The time isn't right just now either with us both flying back and forwards between France and England, but it might be if the business get's going soon and I am based here more permanently. Anyway, those considerations didn't get in the way of a very happy hour stroking and petting and saying hello to puppy after puppy on stall after stall. The Weimeraners proved to be a winner, as did the french bulldogs and jack russels and the setter and the dachsund and the german shepherds and every single dog there as well as a few cute bewildered looking kittens. Debrah would have taken them all home, which would have been interesting, not to say expensive, but common sense prevailed for now. We'll see what happens in the coming year.
We walked back via the Place Carnot, where overnight all the wooden huts for the Christmas market have been set up and the ice rink is well under construction. Christmas officially starts here next Friday, the 7th (so just over two weeks before the big day) when the market is opened and the lights turned on, a far cry from the two month onslaught in London.
Debrah said "Thank you for making me go out - I had a lovely time", which is why we should be together more often.
To finish a fabulous day I cooked Debrah's favourite chocolate pudding for dessert.
I spoil that girl - a warm moment shared early on followed by breakfast in bed, ponies, puppies, kittens and a chocolate pudding - all in one day
Friday, 30 November 2007
Bath Christening
Debrah has waited so so long. She has asked if it was possible soon for about a year now. She has begged us to try and finish it as soon as possible. She has pleaded with us to do it more quickly than scheduled. She has vented her anger at us for not getting on with it. She has stamped her feet in frustration and desperation at the thought of it never happening.
The very beautiful and large white double skinned bath has sat in our 'dining room' for far too long. Not before time, it was finally fitted by Chris and I in the last couple of weeks and today, Debrah arrived from London for the first time since the installation was complete.
It was a lovely sunny day and I collected Debrah from the airport with the roof down on the Audi, as is my custom whatever the weather as long as it's not actually raining. The old Audi continues to attract lots of interest - a French guy came up to me at the airport for a chat about my car which he was clearly admiring - then his wife arrived in their new A4 Avant - once an Audi driver, always an Audi driver.
After a look round at all the changes since Debrah's last visit, we went down to the square for a hot chocolate and a brandy chaser. I love the South of France - it's the last day of November and it was minus four last night, yet here we were sat outside as the sun disappeared over the top of the buildings and we weren't alone.
I'd put a beef casserole on the hob this morning that had been cooking all day - you could smell it as soon as you came back in through the front door, a homely welcoming aroma that immediately made you feel hungry. When I took the lid off the pot the beef had gone black in the red wine sauce. It was delicious with boiled potatoes and buttered cabbage and, naturally, a bottle or so of the exceptional local red wine.
Just when I thought Debrah was going to slope off to bed, she looked up over the top of her computer and said "Shall I have a bath?"
So it was the bathroom and the bath was finally christened. Another first for our French home. Apparently the lighting isn't quite what it should be though - too bright with the lights on, not enough with a candle - it seems that we should have fitted a dimmer switch which is another one of those fabulous hindsight insights that have dogged our whole refurbishment.
In the meantime, it appears that the search has already started for a suitable candelabra to give the required bathtime ambience!
The very beautiful and large white double skinned bath has sat in our 'dining room' for far too long. Not before time, it was finally fitted by Chris and I in the last couple of weeks and today, Debrah arrived from London for the first time since the installation was complete.
It was a lovely sunny day and I collected Debrah from the airport with the roof down on the Audi, as is my custom whatever the weather as long as it's not actually raining. The old Audi continues to attract lots of interest - a French guy came up to me at the airport for a chat about my car which he was clearly admiring - then his wife arrived in their new A4 Avant - once an Audi driver, always an Audi driver.
After a look round at all the changes since Debrah's last visit, we went down to the square for a hot chocolate and a brandy chaser. I love the South of France - it's the last day of November and it was minus four last night, yet here we were sat outside as the sun disappeared over the top of the buildings and we weren't alone.
I'd put a beef casserole on the hob this morning that had been cooking all day - you could smell it as soon as you came back in through the front door, a homely welcoming aroma that immediately made you feel hungry. When I took the lid off the pot the beef had gone black in the red wine sauce. It was delicious with boiled potatoes and buttered cabbage and, naturally, a bottle or so of the exceptional local red wine.
Just when I thought Debrah was going to slope off to bed, she looked up over the top of her computer and said "Shall I have a bath?"
So it was the bathroom and the bath was finally christened. Another first for our French home. Apparently the lighting isn't quite what it should be though - too bright with the lights on, not enough with a candle - it seems that we should have fitted a dimmer switch which is another one of those fabulous hindsight insights that have dogged our whole refurbishment.
In the meantime, it appears that the search has already started for a suitable candelabra to give the required bathtime ambience!
Thursday, 29 November 2007
Clunch crunch
I just knew we were going to run out of that paint - the paint we have used for all the ceilings throughout all the three apartments. It's a Farrow & Ball paint named 'clunch' and it is just perfect as a ceiling colour for these rooms. Today I painted the office and hallway ceiling in the main apartment and the hallway and mezzanine bedroom ceiling in the studio - all look great as always - but I am now down to the last third of a tin and will definitely need at least one more to finish.
It's not a disaster but will mean some re-jigging of work. Ideally, I'd like to do all the ceilings first but as I won't get the new tin of paint down here until just before Christmas, when I drive down from London (paint being 50% cheaper in the UK than it is in France, for some reason), I'll have to finish all the wall and woodwork painting first - oh well.
Apart from the painting, I put a second coat of varnish on the new vanities and did a bit of tidying up in advance of Debrah's arrival tomorrow.
After yesterday's momentous news of our first booking enquiry (they still haven't confirmed) came the news that my London job received it's first sales order today - it may only be 100 units but it is confirmation that there is a market for the product. We never doubted it but as we are currently seeking a third round of funding it is very timely assurance for our investors - so get your cheque books out boys - I need paying.
It's not a disaster but will mean some re-jigging of work. Ideally, I'd like to do all the ceilings first but as I won't get the new tin of paint down here until just before Christmas, when I drive down from London (paint being 50% cheaper in the UK than it is in France, for some reason), I'll have to finish all the wall and woodwork painting first - oh well.
Apart from the painting, I put a second coat of varnish on the new vanities and did a bit of tidying up in advance of Debrah's arrival tomorrow.
After yesterday's momentous news of our first booking enquiry (they still haven't confirmed) came the news that my London job received it's first sales order today - it may only be 100 units but it is confirmation that there is a market for the product. We never doubted it but as we are currently seeking a third round of funding it is very timely assurance for our investors - so get your cheque books out boys - I need paying.
Thursday, 22 November 2007
Rhume
For the second time in three weeks, I have a cold, or 'rhume' as it is known in France. Just my luck.
I didn't stop for the first one and I'm not going to stop for this one either but it has definitely slowed me down, or is that just that I was feeling a bit knackered anyway - I don't know.
Today I undercoated the studio hallway and the the walls and shelves on either side of the studio kitchen, which were a bit fiddly and took longer than I expected. At 4.00pm I decided that I had had enough - so went for a shower and cleaned myself up. Half an hour later I was feeling guilty at having stopped so early in the day. I thought to myself I could go and varnish the new vanity worktops in the two new bathrooms - that won't be too strenuous and will be one more job done. It is one more job done and they now look as fabulous as the others - but half way through I knew that it was a bad idea.
Consequently, I had an early supper (very early in fact) and put myself to bed with Lara Croft - Tomb Raider on dvd. What a load of nonsense - not real you know - nobody in the movies is ever sat in bed with a pile of tissues around them and a head that feels like it's full of cottonwool. Atishoo.
I didn't stop for the first one and I'm not going to stop for this one either but it has definitely slowed me down, or is that just that I was feeling a bit knackered anyway - I don't know.
Today I undercoated the studio hallway and the the walls and shelves on either side of the studio kitchen, which were a bit fiddly and took longer than I expected. At 4.00pm I decided that I had had enough - so went for a shower and cleaned myself up. Half an hour later I was feeling guilty at having stopped so early in the day. I thought to myself I could go and varnish the new vanity worktops in the two new bathrooms - that won't be too strenuous and will be one more job done. It is one more job done and they now look as fabulous as the others - but half way through I knew that it was a bad idea.
Consequently, I had an early supper (very early in fact) and put myself to bed with Lara Croft - Tomb Raider on dvd. What a load of nonsense - not real you know - nobody in the movies is ever sat in bed with a pile of tissues around them and a head that feels like it's full of cottonwool. Atishoo.
Wednesday, 21 November 2007
Reality Check
I slept longer than I had planned and woke up a bit late this morning. I guess with Chris having gone, sub-consciously I knew I didn't have to be up and ready for anyone else.
Chris clearly made the right decision to drive to Paris. Overnight, some militant strikers sabotaged a large part of the TGV network. Personally, I don't think it was a very shrewd move - the country has been struggling to get to work for six days and negotiations between Government and Unions were due to start this morning - if they wanted to turn public opinion against them they couldn't have done a better job - talk about shooting yourself in the foot. Anyway, I had a text from Chris to say he was boarding his plane, which was good news.
After yesterday's slightly heady bit of euphoria, the reality of everything still to be done - by me, on my own, between now and Christmas - hit home today. I think I said no more sanding, but when I looked a bit closer at the office ceiling before under-coating could commence, I realised that it needed a bit of work on it before it looked even reasonable. So, there I was stood on a scaffold, sanding plaster above my head once again, realising that it was just me in this vast apartment and while this bit of plaster was being sanded, nothing else was being done - which was a bit deflating to be honest.
But it got done, and the under-coating of the office ceiling and walls and all the new door frames and skirtings that were fitted yesterday also got done. Actually I think I could do with a day off but I'll push on through one more day of work here before I go back to London on Friday - then I can have a weekend to relax with Debrah which will be wonderful.
On a different tack altogether, when I took some more rubbish out to bins earlier on, I noticed that the starlings are back - not in such great numbers but definitely there doing their dusk time swooping and swirling. So much for false falcon noises and rockets - seems like they just moved somewhere else for a week and then came back. Oh well, another unsuccessful French campaign.
I love France and the French and their ideosyncratic ways but it does amaze me how they have survived as a nation - not since Napoleon marched all over Europe have they really had anything to shout about (and he was a Corsican). You might think I'm stretching the point a bit but I'll happily argue it. For years the TGV and French railway system has been held up as a model of efficiency and wonder, but the truth is you can only use it when the drivers decide you can and successive French governments have ignored the fact that they can't afford to pay for it so continue to put the country further into debt.
It will be interesting to see if President Sarkozy can introduce the same reality check on France that I experienced today in my apartment.
Chris clearly made the right decision to drive to Paris. Overnight, some militant strikers sabotaged a large part of the TGV network. Personally, I don't think it was a very shrewd move - the country has been struggling to get to work for six days and negotiations between Government and Unions were due to start this morning - if they wanted to turn public opinion against them they couldn't have done a better job - talk about shooting yourself in the foot. Anyway, I had a text from Chris to say he was boarding his plane, which was good news.
After yesterday's slightly heady bit of euphoria, the reality of everything still to be done - by me, on my own, between now and Christmas - hit home today. I think I said no more sanding, but when I looked a bit closer at the office ceiling before under-coating could commence, I realised that it needed a bit of work on it before it looked even reasonable. So, there I was stood on a scaffold, sanding plaster above my head once again, realising that it was just me in this vast apartment and while this bit of plaster was being sanded, nothing else was being done - which was a bit deflating to be honest.
But it got done, and the under-coating of the office ceiling and walls and all the new door frames and skirtings that were fitted yesterday also got done. Actually I think I could do with a day off but I'll push on through one more day of work here before I go back to London on Friday - then I can have a weekend to relax with Debrah which will be wonderful.
On a different tack altogether, when I took some more rubbish out to bins earlier on, I noticed that the starlings are back - not in such great numbers but definitely there doing their dusk time swooping and swirling. So much for false falcon noises and rockets - seems like they just moved somewhere else for a week and then came back. Oh well, another unsuccessful French campaign.
I love France and the French and their ideosyncratic ways but it does amaze me how they have survived as a nation - not since Napoleon marched all over Europe have they really had anything to shout about (and he was a Corsican). You might think I'm stretching the point a bit but I'll happily argue it. For years the TGV and French railway system has been held up as a model of efficiency and wonder, but the truth is you can only use it when the drivers decide you can and successive French governments have ignored the fact that they can't afford to pay for it so continue to put the country further into debt.
It will be interesting to see if President Sarkozy can introduce the same reality check on France that I experienced today in my apartment.
Tuesday, 20 November 2007
A Momentous Day
It's not over yet, but a watershed point was reached today on the renovation of my three apartments. As Chris and I manouevred the toilet into place in our main apartment bathroom, he turned to me and said "You know that this is the last thing to be fitted".
We had been working so intensively over the last eight days that I hadn't realised the enormity of what was happening there and then, but he was right. Five bathrooms, three kitchens, one ceiling raised, several walls knocked down and rebuilt - no more tiling to do, no more plumbing to do, no more cabling to put in, no more plastering or sanding, no more toilets, showers, baths, sinks, kitchen cabinets or hobs to install, no more vanity units to build. The whole thing took me so much by surprise that I had a lump in my throat thinking about all that had been achieved - the seemingly un-ending hard slog over the last couple of years - the bone jarring and muscle aching labour - the joyous moments of achievement and the frustrated cursing about bad builders and French DIY shops and falling off ladders and being apart from Debrah for weeks on end and the sheer cost of it all. It still hasn't fully sunk in.
Naturally, there had to be a final trip to Tridome for the correct size valve to connect the water to the toilet, which delayed the moment by half an hour. I have a box full of plumbing parts that I will probably never use again but not the right size valve needed for today's final connection.
It's not ALL over yet though - there is still a large acreage of wall space to be painted, a new carpet to be laid, a wooden floor to be sanded and stained and varnished, some plug points and light fittings to tidy up and some shelves to put up here and there - but that's all cosmetic really compared to what has already been done.
Chris and I had planned, quite rightly, to go out and toast this moment with several bottles of the very drinkable local red wine, but this being France, the French had very different ideas about that. They wouldn't stop us drinking red wine, of course, but they have stopped anyone moving around the country very easily for the last week.
Chris is booked on a plane from Paris to New York in the morning and had booked an overnight train to get him there from here. Well, as the French rail drivers strike entered it's sixth day and they were joined by the civil servants and the air traffic controllers and anyone else who didn't fancy getting up this morning, Chris had no option but to hire a car and cancel his train ticket - which meant that instead of getting slightly happy and sleeping all the way to Paris, he had to put his tired and aching and very sober body into the hire car and drive through the night. I don't envy him that.
So suddenly, I am here on my own again. I have already planned my jobs for tomorrow - no point letting up as it all needs to be completed asap. We are now listed on two travel websites and there is press interest apparently. It looks like a new phase in the life of 42 rue victor hugo is about to begin and with it a new phase in my life. Bring it on.
We had been working so intensively over the last eight days that I hadn't realised the enormity of what was happening there and then, but he was right. Five bathrooms, three kitchens, one ceiling raised, several walls knocked down and rebuilt - no more tiling to do, no more plumbing to do, no more cabling to put in, no more plastering or sanding, no more toilets, showers, baths, sinks, kitchen cabinets or hobs to install, no more vanity units to build. The whole thing took me so much by surprise that I had a lump in my throat thinking about all that had been achieved - the seemingly un-ending hard slog over the last couple of years - the bone jarring and muscle aching labour - the joyous moments of achievement and the frustrated cursing about bad builders and French DIY shops and falling off ladders and being apart from Debrah for weeks on end and the sheer cost of it all. It still hasn't fully sunk in.
Naturally, there had to be a final trip to Tridome for the correct size valve to connect the water to the toilet, which delayed the moment by half an hour. I have a box full of plumbing parts that I will probably never use again but not the right size valve needed for today's final connection.
It's not ALL over yet though - there is still a large acreage of wall space to be painted, a new carpet to be laid, a wooden floor to be sanded and stained and varnished, some plug points and light fittings to tidy up and some shelves to put up here and there - but that's all cosmetic really compared to what has already been done.
Chris and I had planned, quite rightly, to go out and toast this moment with several bottles of the very drinkable local red wine, but this being France, the French had very different ideas about that. They wouldn't stop us drinking red wine, of course, but they have stopped anyone moving around the country very easily for the last week.
Chris is booked on a plane from Paris to New York in the morning and had booked an overnight train to get him there from here. Well, as the French rail drivers strike entered it's sixth day and they were joined by the civil servants and the air traffic controllers and anyone else who didn't fancy getting up this morning, Chris had no option but to hire a car and cancel his train ticket - which meant that instead of getting slightly happy and sleeping all the way to Paris, he had to put his tired and aching and very sober body into the hire car and drive through the night. I don't envy him that.
So suddenly, I am here on my own again. I have already planned my jobs for tomorrow - no point letting up as it all needs to be completed asap. We are now listed on two travel websites and there is press interest apparently. It looks like a new phase in the life of 42 rue victor hugo is about to begin and with it a new phase in my life. Bring it on.
Monday, 19 November 2007
Nearly There
What a week it has been.
When I returned to France and found out that Chris had booked a trip to the States - not for the two weeks we had discussed, but for four weeks up to the 19th December - it took me a day or so to work out the full implications of the work still to be done and the work that would be needed to be done when he came back. When the subject was raised, I thought for a while that we were about to fall out about it, but we didn't, and Chris understood my concerns about the timing so fully that the last week has been the most intense period of work we have undertaken here.
We have just finished eight days in a row working an average of twelve hours a day - Chris cramming into that period two bathroom fits, one kitchen fit, some shelving, a lot of tiling, two door frames and a host of general electrics and other work and me painting rooms as he went along to enable final finishing as well as general rubbish clearance, materials buying, work for a critical stage of product development in London and, very importantly, making coffee at a very constant rate all through the day.
At this very moment, late on a Monday evening, I can honestly say we are both very proud of what we have achieved in the last week and are both totally knackered. Chris is probably a bit worse for wear than I am because he has done more of the work - but as he rightly pointed out, I am paying him to do it and he will be sat on his arse for a while in the States whilst I still have a massive amount of painting to do between now and Christmas. Oh joy.
It is so difficult to put into words the genuine excitement I am feeling - the end really is in sight. Every day sees another completed bit of work, another sink in place, another wall painted, another room nearly done. I have now packed up the tile cutters and moved them into the cellar for storage - there is no more tiling or tile cutting to be done (the neighbours will be pleased - actually one of my neighbours moved out this weekend and I did speculate if she had had enough of the noise from downstairs and how ironic it was that she moved on the day the tiling was complete) .
All the old offcut tiles have been thrown out as well as a host of other stuff that we have been hanging onto 'just in case' it might be needed. Even now, I am still deliberating between putting odd bits of plasterboard or chipboard in the cellar or the bin. Put them in the bin for God's sake.
I still have a couple of tonnes of rubble down in the disused room on the ground floor, which nobody has complained about so far but is probably only a matter of time. I decided today, whilst in rubbish removal mode, to take a few bits out and so deposited a toilet and a couple of bags of concrete in the local bins this afternoon. I figure that a couple of bags a day should get rid of it in about six months, give or take.
Earlier on this evening, the doorbell rang and I was faced with two guys wearing flourescent yellow coats with the SITA logo emblazoned across the front and back. SITA is the local sub-contracted rubbish removal / dustmen company who do a fabulous job of emptying the bins three times a day seven days a week. I prepared myself for a question about broken tiles, plaster or rogue toilets - but actually just got a request for the Christmas fund. When they discovered I was English they turned tail and fled which was a shame, because if there is any group of workers in France who deserve a Christmas tip from me it is they, for they have hauled an awful lot of my building crap away over the year and nothing seems to faze them - I must try harder!
Naturally, life would not be complete without some last minute crises to keep everyone on their toes. Late on Saturday I had to dash to the specialist tile shop for another bag of tile adhesive which I managed with about five minutes to spare and late this afternoon I had to dash to the DIY store for some more grout for said tiles, which I also managed through the rush hour (rush 20 minutes) traffic.
And, Chris is due to leave tomorrow evening on a train to Paris to pick up his flight to the US. Which is all well and good, except that the 'lazy French fuckers' (my wife's description) who operate the French railway have been on strike for 5 days and show no signs of getting back to work anytime soon - and all because they think it is reasonable to retain the right to retire on full pay at age 50. Ahh - this is France - if they had got wind of our working hours over the last week there would probably be a protest outside the appartment demanding that we slow down a bit and stop for lunch.
Oh well, what will happen tomorrow - Chris has a last few jobs to finish - he may or may not get his train to Paris and therefore his flight to the US - he may have to hire a car and drive - who knows. It will probably all work out in the end - it usually does.
Nearly there.
When I returned to France and found out that Chris had booked a trip to the States - not for the two weeks we had discussed, but for four weeks up to the 19th December - it took me a day or so to work out the full implications of the work still to be done and the work that would be needed to be done when he came back. When the subject was raised, I thought for a while that we were about to fall out about it, but we didn't, and Chris understood my concerns about the timing so fully that the last week has been the most intense period of work we have undertaken here.
We have just finished eight days in a row working an average of twelve hours a day - Chris cramming into that period two bathroom fits, one kitchen fit, some shelving, a lot of tiling, two door frames and a host of general electrics and other work and me painting rooms as he went along to enable final finishing as well as general rubbish clearance, materials buying, work for a critical stage of product development in London and, very importantly, making coffee at a very constant rate all through the day.
At this very moment, late on a Monday evening, I can honestly say we are both very proud of what we have achieved in the last week and are both totally knackered. Chris is probably a bit worse for wear than I am because he has done more of the work - but as he rightly pointed out, I am paying him to do it and he will be sat on his arse for a while in the States whilst I still have a massive amount of painting to do between now and Christmas. Oh joy.
It is so difficult to put into words the genuine excitement I am feeling - the end really is in sight. Every day sees another completed bit of work, another sink in place, another wall painted, another room nearly done. I have now packed up the tile cutters and moved them into the cellar for storage - there is no more tiling or tile cutting to be done (the neighbours will be pleased - actually one of my neighbours moved out this weekend and I did speculate if she had had enough of the noise from downstairs and how ironic it was that she moved on the day the tiling was complete) .
All the old offcut tiles have been thrown out as well as a host of other stuff that we have been hanging onto 'just in case' it might be needed. Even now, I am still deliberating between putting odd bits of plasterboard or chipboard in the cellar or the bin. Put them in the bin for God's sake.
I still have a couple of tonnes of rubble down in the disused room on the ground floor, which nobody has complained about so far but is probably only a matter of time. I decided today, whilst in rubbish removal mode, to take a few bits out and so deposited a toilet and a couple of bags of concrete in the local bins this afternoon. I figure that a couple of bags a day should get rid of it in about six months, give or take.
Earlier on this evening, the doorbell rang and I was faced with two guys wearing flourescent yellow coats with the SITA logo emblazoned across the front and back. SITA is the local sub-contracted rubbish removal / dustmen company who do a fabulous job of emptying the bins three times a day seven days a week. I prepared myself for a question about broken tiles, plaster or rogue toilets - but actually just got a request for the Christmas fund. When they discovered I was English they turned tail and fled which was a shame, because if there is any group of workers in France who deserve a Christmas tip from me it is they, for they have hauled an awful lot of my building crap away over the year and nothing seems to faze them - I must try harder!
Naturally, life would not be complete without some last minute crises to keep everyone on their toes. Late on Saturday I had to dash to the specialist tile shop for another bag of tile adhesive which I managed with about five minutes to spare and late this afternoon I had to dash to the DIY store for some more grout for said tiles, which I also managed through the rush hour (rush 20 minutes) traffic.
And, Chris is due to leave tomorrow evening on a train to Paris to pick up his flight to the US. Which is all well and good, except that the 'lazy French fuckers' (my wife's description) who operate the French railway have been on strike for 5 days and show no signs of getting back to work anytime soon - and all because they think it is reasonable to retain the right to retire on full pay at age 50. Ahh - this is France - if they had got wind of our working hours over the last week there would probably be a protest outside the appartment demanding that we slow down a bit and stop for lunch.
Oh well, what will happen tomorrow - Chris has a last few jobs to finish - he may or may not get his train to Paris and therefore his flight to the US - he may have to hire a car and drive - who knows. It will probably all work out in the end - it usually does.
Nearly there.
Thursday, 15 November 2007
Hectic
To say that the last ten days have been hectic would be an understatement. Work has reached a critical, time intensive and very pressured stage in both London and France.
In London, we are on the cusp of selling the new product but have frustratingly come to a halt because of lack of funds - so we are looking for a further round of investment to get us over the last hurdle and into the market. It means a temporary hiatus in being paid - as always, just before Christmas, just when you are stretched to the limit already, just when you can least afford it.
In France, we are on to the final push. I vowed that all would be finished before Christmas but that vow is going to be put to the test.
As I type, Chris is still laying tiles in the new studio kitchen at 11.30pm. We have a very definite and very intense schedule of work to complete between now and Tuesday evening when Chris leaves for the US, to shoot animals and ride snowmobiles and frame a couple of houses. As he is not back until five days before Christmas, all the major work needs to be done now - hence the late nights.
As ever, nothing is plain sailing.
We bought most of the mdf needed for the new kitchen shelves two weeks ago, but since then they have been out of stock (this months national shortage a la France). I found somewhere else that supplies it but they are wholesale and you have to buy the whole sheet rather than just the bits you need - and I don't need a whole sheet. So we have two shelves made and the batons for the third in place.
Meanwhile the extra tiles that I ordered arrived from Italy in two weeks which was something of a miracle and about four weeks earlier than we expected. We shouldn't have got carried away though by this fabulous news because, although they are in the same packaging and carry the same identifying reference numbers, they aren't quite exactly the same colour or thickness and there are only four to a box not six, which means we are still going to be a bit tight and have nothing left over and let's hope nobody else notices eh?
Half way through today we ran out of grout for the mosaic tiles on the kitchen wall - just a poxy square foot left to do. Yesterday I had spent a bit of time mixing grouts to get the right colour from the fairly basic selection available here, which of course meant we had to make up a new batch from some new grout and hope that we got the mix correct or else we'd be able to see the join - not good.
It would be so damn easy if it all went to plan - but where is the fun in that?
No doubt there will be more minor traumas tomorrow.
Other news - the starlings have gone. Whether they were scared off or whether they just emigrated anyway, nobody knows - but gone they have and the Christmas lights have gone up in the street outside and all the other streets in town, which is quite exciting really.
In London, we are on the cusp of selling the new product but have frustratingly come to a halt because of lack of funds - so we are looking for a further round of investment to get us over the last hurdle and into the market. It means a temporary hiatus in being paid - as always, just before Christmas, just when you are stretched to the limit already, just when you can least afford it.
In France, we are on to the final push. I vowed that all would be finished before Christmas but that vow is going to be put to the test.
As I type, Chris is still laying tiles in the new studio kitchen at 11.30pm. We have a very definite and very intense schedule of work to complete between now and Tuesday evening when Chris leaves for the US, to shoot animals and ride snowmobiles and frame a couple of houses. As he is not back until five days before Christmas, all the major work needs to be done now - hence the late nights.
As ever, nothing is plain sailing.
We bought most of the mdf needed for the new kitchen shelves two weeks ago, but since then they have been out of stock (this months national shortage a la France). I found somewhere else that supplies it but they are wholesale and you have to buy the whole sheet rather than just the bits you need - and I don't need a whole sheet. So we have two shelves made and the batons for the third in place.
Meanwhile the extra tiles that I ordered arrived from Italy in two weeks which was something of a miracle and about four weeks earlier than we expected. We shouldn't have got carried away though by this fabulous news because, although they are in the same packaging and carry the same identifying reference numbers, they aren't quite exactly the same colour or thickness and there are only four to a box not six, which means we are still going to be a bit tight and have nothing left over and let's hope nobody else notices eh?
Half way through today we ran out of grout for the mosaic tiles on the kitchen wall - just a poxy square foot left to do. Yesterday I had spent a bit of time mixing grouts to get the right colour from the fairly basic selection available here, which of course meant we had to make up a new batch from some new grout and hope that we got the mix correct or else we'd be able to see the join - not good.
It would be so damn easy if it all went to plan - but where is the fun in that?
No doubt there will be more minor traumas tomorrow.
Other news - the starlings have gone. Whether they were scared off or whether they just emigrated anyway, nobody knows - but gone they have and the Christmas lights have gone up in the street outside and all the other streets in town, which is quite exciting really.
Wednesday, 31 October 2007
Cold cures
It was all a bit less frenetic today, without the Poles and the plaster and the dust clouds. Oh don't worry, we still have dust - lots and lots and lots of it. Every bit of cleaning in one part of the apartment is negated by walking from another part, leaving a trail of dusty footprints - will it never end?
Today was one of those strange France days when I spent pretty much all day working with my London head on - sat at my computer putting financial forecasts together. It also coincided with a constant runny nose and sneezing. Aren't colds the pits? - nothing you can do about it - just constant hot toddies, a ready supply of tissues and just try to ignore it. Frankly, there is far too much to do both here in France and in London to let a cold bring a halt to proceedings.
Meanwhile, Chris has been getting on with the tiling in the studio, which is looking good, notwithstanding the fact we might be short of a tile or two.
And Chris' advice for my cold? - "alcohol, mate - always works for me" - suppose I better open another bottle of wine then.
Today was one of those strange France days when I spent pretty much all day working with my London head on - sat at my computer putting financial forecasts together. It also coincided with a constant runny nose and sneezing. Aren't colds the pits? - nothing you can do about it - just constant hot toddies, a ready supply of tissues and just try to ignore it. Frankly, there is far too much to do both here in France and in London to let a cold bring a halt to proceedings.
Meanwhile, Chris has been getting on with the tiling in the studio, which is looking good, notwithstanding the fact we might be short of a tile or two.
And Chris' advice for my cold? - "alcohol, mate - always works for me" - suppose I better open another bottle of wine then.
Tuesday, 30 October 2007
Tile ordering
I went out early up to Tridome with my fingers firmly crossed that they would still have some of our tiles in stock. The fact that we bought them six months ago and they were a special offer at the time did not fill me with confidence. On arrival I quickly scanned the displays of tiles - nothing - my heart sank. I plumped up courage and cornered the tilemeister (or whatever they are called in France - le maestro de carrelage?) and showed him the torn off ends of a box that I had brought with me showing the name and code numbers of what I needed.
Actually, he was no maestro because he couldn't work the computer system and had to constantly either phone a colleague or get up and find someone to help him, all the time mumbling incoherent French at me - 'if you want me to at least have a stab at understanding you, please talk clearly', I thought to myself, and even then it will only be a 50/50 chance of success. The computer system was so obvious, even in French, that I was dying to grab the mouse off him and find the stock item myself, but given that Air France cabin crew have been on strike for five days because somebody sneezed on a plane or something, I thought better of it as the last thing I need at this critical point of the renovation is a nationwide walkout of staff from the DIY stores because an impatient Englishman grabbed a man's mouse!
My heart leapt when he eventually decided they had three boxes left in stock. I needed four to be on the safe side but three would have to do - I went off to get a trolley while he went to look in the storeroom. My heart sank again as he emerged holding a tile that was clearly the wrong colour. I think he said to me that the code numbers didn't match - which is why, you durr, the colour wasn't right. So it was back to the computer.
Whilst he continued his struggle with technology, I grabbed the Cooperativo Ceramico Imola catalogue from the shelf behind him and found the tiles I needed straight away with matching code number and a pretty picture and everything. His eyes lit up and he punched the code into a new screen he had found listing all current stock items. Hurrah. Sadly not. Computer said No.
His smarter, more tech savvy mate, popped his head round the corner, clicked the mouse a couple of times, pulled up the manufacturer details and stock list and a price for the item and in clearly understandable French said we could order them no problem if I wanted. Hallelujah - isn't life so much easier when you find the person who knows what's going on? Sadly, he then ran off again leaving Einstein to fill out the order, which took another twenty minutes with me helpfully pointing to the bits he had missed or got wrong. The upshot of it all is that I have to pay double the original price because they are no longer on special offer and we might have to wait six weeks for them to arrive, by which time Chris may well have left and I will be laying them myself. All of which left me feeling quite depressed this morning.
I returned to the apartment for the final afternoon of the Polish plasterers work for me, which involved more plastering, more sanding, more cleaning, a lot more dust and the handing over of a large wad of notes. Still, it took them seven days to do what would have taken me four weeks to not do as well as they have, so it is undoubtedly money well spent.
I thought my sore throat was due to the dust or the paint fumes, but this evening it has given way to sneezing and snot and I know I have a cold coming on - just what I don't need. Oh well - better get off to bed with a hot drink and get it sorted.
Actually, he was no maestro because he couldn't work the computer system and had to constantly either phone a colleague or get up and find someone to help him, all the time mumbling incoherent French at me - 'if you want me to at least have a stab at understanding you, please talk clearly', I thought to myself, and even then it will only be a 50/50 chance of success. The computer system was so obvious, even in French, that I was dying to grab the mouse off him and find the stock item myself, but given that Air France cabin crew have been on strike for five days because somebody sneezed on a plane or something, I thought better of it as the last thing I need at this critical point of the renovation is a nationwide walkout of staff from the DIY stores because an impatient Englishman grabbed a man's mouse!
My heart leapt when he eventually decided they had three boxes left in stock. I needed four to be on the safe side but three would have to do - I went off to get a trolley while he went to look in the storeroom. My heart sank again as he emerged holding a tile that was clearly the wrong colour. I think he said to me that the code numbers didn't match - which is why, you durr, the colour wasn't right. So it was back to the computer.
Whilst he continued his struggle with technology, I grabbed the Cooperativo Ceramico Imola catalogue from the shelf behind him and found the tiles I needed straight away with matching code number and a pretty picture and everything. His eyes lit up and he punched the code into a new screen he had found listing all current stock items. Hurrah. Sadly not. Computer said No.
His smarter, more tech savvy mate, popped his head round the corner, clicked the mouse a couple of times, pulled up the manufacturer details and stock list and a price for the item and in clearly understandable French said we could order them no problem if I wanted. Hallelujah - isn't life so much easier when you find the person who knows what's going on? Sadly, he then ran off again leaving Einstein to fill out the order, which took another twenty minutes with me helpfully pointing to the bits he had missed or got wrong. The upshot of it all is that I have to pay double the original price because they are no longer on special offer and we might have to wait six weeks for them to arrive, by which time Chris may well have left and I will be laying them myself. All of which left me feeling quite depressed this morning.
I returned to the apartment for the final afternoon of the Polish plasterers work for me, which involved more plastering, more sanding, more cleaning, a lot more dust and the handing over of a large wad of notes. Still, it took them seven days to do what would have taken me four weeks to not do as well as they have, so it is undoubtedly money well spent.
I thought my sore throat was due to the dust or the paint fumes, but this evening it has given way to sneezing and snot and I know I have a cold coming on - just what I don't need. Oh well - better get off to bed with a hot drink and get it sorted.
Thursday, 25 October 2007
A bit chilly
What to say about the last two days? It has been a bit wierd really. I have pretty much just been sat at the kitchen table in front of my computer working on different financial scenarios and forecasts for my London job whilst all around me the building work has been progressing without much input from me.
And it has been cold just sitting at the table. It's definitely Autumn. Earlier in the week the sun shone and for three or four hours in the middle of the day it bathed the kitchen table in glorious golden light - kept me nice and warm but couldn't see the screen because of the glare. Today, however, it was grey and drizzly, just like England, and even though I had two jumpers on and a constant supply of hot coffee, it was still too cold - so the electric heaters were turned on to try and take the edge off - a good month earlier than I had planned on using them.
Meanwhile, the Poles are cracking on with the plastering and sanding. Twelve days they quoted with much sucking of the teeth - hah! I think they will be done by the middle of next week at the rate they are going. Doing a cracking job though so I'm not complaining. They brought a new boy with them yesterday and today - fresh off the boat, so to speak - doesn't speak a word of English or French and is given all the shitty jobs like sanding the ceiling above his head (I've done that so I know just what a shitty job it is). Poor kid - all part of his education I guess.
Hopefully they will be out of Chris' way tomorrow so that he can get on with the tiling. The perfectionist that he is, he has spent all week agonising over the correct tile adhesive to use for putting new porcelain tiles over old glazed ceramic tiles. Of course, the Poles just pointed at the stuff we already had, but in the end we went to a specialist tile shop and in my best French I asked what we should use and bought two bags of their recommendation. I know Chris still isn't convinced - but hey, let's hope it works cos I don't feel like buying anything else.
It'll work - I'm certain of it.
And it has been cold just sitting at the table. It's definitely Autumn. Earlier in the week the sun shone and for three or four hours in the middle of the day it bathed the kitchen table in glorious golden light - kept me nice and warm but couldn't see the screen because of the glare. Today, however, it was grey and drizzly, just like England, and even though I had two jumpers on and a constant supply of hot coffee, it was still too cold - so the electric heaters were turned on to try and take the edge off - a good month earlier than I had planned on using them.
Meanwhile, the Poles are cracking on with the plastering and sanding. Twelve days they quoted with much sucking of the teeth - hah! I think they will be done by the middle of next week at the rate they are going. Doing a cracking job though so I'm not complaining. They brought a new boy with them yesterday and today - fresh off the boat, so to speak - doesn't speak a word of English or French and is given all the shitty jobs like sanding the ceiling above his head (I've done that so I know just what a shitty job it is). Poor kid - all part of his education I guess.
Hopefully they will be out of Chris' way tomorrow so that he can get on with the tiling. The perfectionist that he is, he has spent all week agonising over the correct tile adhesive to use for putting new porcelain tiles over old glazed ceramic tiles. Of course, the Poles just pointed at the stuff we already had, but in the end we went to a specialist tile shop and in my best French I asked what we should use and bought two bags of their recommendation. I know Chris still isn't convinced - but hey, let's hope it works cos I don't feel like buying anything else.
It'll work - I'm certain of it.
Tuesday, 23 October 2007
Kitchen Lights
For two years we have had a single bare light bulb sat forlornly high up in the centre of the ceiling in the kitchen. We have always known what we wanted to put in place and have had the light shades sat here in a bag for most of those last two years.
Alison and Graham, the first builders that we employed down here, were supposed to have fitted them, but they turned out to be useless, slow and incompetent - Alison and Graham, not the lights. We are even now having to correct or work around some of the work that they did in the early days of the renovation, and that really pisses me off, especially when I think about the money that we paid to them.
At long last, the single light bulb, which turned out to be just 40 watts (no wonder I had trouble reading properly at the kitchen table in the evening - or am I just losing my sight?) has been replaced with two elegant shades hanging low over the kitchen island and the kitchen table respectively. What a difference they make, not just to the light and visibility but also to the look and feel of the entire kitchen. Hurrah.
The Poles are continuing to work at a rapid pace - so much so that Chris has been able to start tiling in the studio bathroom, which is also very exciting news. I hope you are all as excited as I am, whoever you are.
By the way, it was Chris' birthday today - so happy birthday to you - and thanks for the kitchen lights. I'm supposed to give you a present but it turned out the other way round. You said to me that it was just another day, but it isn't - it's not everyday that a long running kitchen light saga is sorted.
Alison and Graham, the first builders that we employed down here, were supposed to have fitted them, but they turned out to be useless, slow and incompetent - Alison and Graham, not the lights. We are even now having to correct or work around some of the work that they did in the early days of the renovation, and that really pisses me off, especially when I think about the money that we paid to them.
At long last, the single light bulb, which turned out to be just 40 watts (no wonder I had trouble reading properly at the kitchen table in the evening - or am I just losing my sight?) has been replaced with two elegant shades hanging low over the kitchen island and the kitchen table respectively. What a difference they make, not just to the light and visibility but also to the look and feel of the entire kitchen. Hurrah.
The Poles are continuing to work at a rapid pace - so much so that Chris has been able to start tiling in the studio bathroom, which is also very exciting news. I hope you are all as excited as I am, whoever you are.
By the way, it was Chris' birthday today - so happy birthday to you - and thanks for the kitchen lights. I'm supposed to give you a present but it turned out the other way round. You said to me that it was just another day, but it isn't - it's not everyday that a long running kitchen light saga is sorted.
Tuesday, 18 September 2007
Full Steam Ahead
After my jolly to the rugby in Montpellier on Sunday it was time to get back down to work on both my London and Carcassonne projects, both of which are reaching a critical stage of development and both of which could probably demand all my time - so I need to put some hours in this week to satisfy their demands.
I have found that I am more productive on London work first thing in the morning - up at 7.00am with the first bell of the day, a pot of coffee, still relatively quiet outside and at this time of year still darkish. Of course, in the UK it is only 6.00am so anyone receiving an early email from me is always well impressed.
That isn't the reason for working this way around though. After doing the physical side of things on the renovation I am always aching - seeing as I am getting on a bit these days and there is a lot of mileage behind me - and I find it more difficult when I am physically tired to think straight and do financial planning. I am hoping I am not alone in this.
Of course, up early and thinking clearly is only possible if I am sensible the night before. So, a degree of discipline is required this week, something I haven't been renowned for in the past, but I am getting better.
As I sit here now at the kitchen table, waiting for the water to come to the boil for the spaghetti for my dinner, I am pretty happy with my two days effort on both fronts - how smug does that sound? It shouldn't sound smug at all because I have only made but a dent in the work that still needs to be done to bring both these projects to fruition.
Supper nearly ready so time to go. I think I might go to the pub and watch the rugby later .......
I have found that I am more productive on London work first thing in the morning - up at 7.00am with the first bell of the day, a pot of coffee, still relatively quiet outside and at this time of year still darkish. Of course, in the UK it is only 6.00am so anyone receiving an early email from me is always well impressed.
That isn't the reason for working this way around though. After doing the physical side of things on the renovation I am always aching - seeing as I am getting on a bit these days and there is a lot of mileage behind me - and I find it more difficult when I am physically tired to think straight and do financial planning. I am hoping I am not alone in this.
Of course, up early and thinking clearly is only possible if I am sensible the night before. So, a degree of discipline is required this week, something I haven't been renowned for in the past, but I am getting better.
As I sit here now at the kitchen table, waiting for the water to come to the boil for the spaghetti for my dinner, I am pretty happy with my two days effort on both fronts - how smug does that sound? It shouldn't sound smug at all because I have only made but a dent in the work that still needs to be done to bring both these projects to fruition.
Supper nearly ready so time to go. I think I might go to the pub and watch the rugby later .......
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