What happened to sensibility?

May 2010

To begin with, disbelief set in. I remember feeling disconnected with reality, attempting to pretend that the property was not mine! For a week or I was on avoidance by acting as a tourist at the local medieval event and then circumstances were such that I had no transport to travel the 30 minute drive to 'my house'.   Then my adult son, invited by both my partner and myself, arrived with strong arms, energy and expertise.....wake up RestlessinFrance and get your teeth into WORK! 

Within a few days I knew that I needed extra TIME to consider what I wanted to do with the house  but there was no TIME other than time to labour.   I adhered to the recommendations that one should not plan too much before becoming the owner of a property and also that one should inhabit a house for a while before making changes.  However, I could not have lived in the house in the state it was in.  It had a lovely ambiance but the wallpaper itself and the French brown woodwork would have driven me nuts!  I plunged in!

Indecisiveness had been an ever increasing problem for about 6 years, as a result of losing my career, bereavements and a major operation.  It's weird how the mind can be affected!  The  trauma resulted in mental and emotional dysfunction causing low self-esteem and it was difficult to manage in a mature way.  Now, on a steep learning curve, the men-in-charge needed me to make decisions and direct them as to what to do!  This pressure caused further anxiety when I had become used to deferring to others, and in doing so denying self-responsibility.  I always seemed to need multiple choices to see which one to choose!   It only caused disorganisation!

My son tried to teach me to have courage in the face of adversity.  He'd experienced a nightmare from hell renovation project when he and his girlfriend bought WendyAnn2 to convert to a house-boat.   If you read the start of his blog, dip into the postings and see today’s results you will marvel at their grit and determination to succeed where others would have given up.  It was character building.  I took heart from him.  There he was parenting me and encouraging me to think positively.   Mantras were necessary:

“I must tell myself I CAN make decisions.

I must NOT be worried about this and that.
I CAN do it.

I WILL do it.

 It will be OK!
     Don't give up!”  

I could see the enormity of work having removed the rose-tinted spectacles.  Depression on the Road to Hell was setting in!  Already it was clear that ambitions exceeded available funding and care would be necessary even just to update the ground floor.  

Initially the project was thought to be a make-over, however “maquillage” is camouflage.  My son was amazed at how I could think that the project could be achieved in a summer.  I didn’t want ‘to paper over cracks’  and gradually I realised what style and standard I wanted to achieve.  Oh dear, My mother always said I had ideas above my station.  A whole new spin was unknowingly developing inside my head whilst I stripped wallpaper from every room whilst I cried and fought internal as well as external battles!  My memory of this is etched on my brain!The top layer of stringy brown wallpaper revealed the paper firmly stuck to the plasterboard below.  It looked to be a long and painful endurance test to expose the bare walls but after several soakings with water and washing up liquid then applying the steamer kettle with one hand and scraping with the other the task became easier.  Little by little, it will be achieved!

My project carved itself into life. Physical exercise woke up the unused muscles which in turn began to creak at the end of a long disciplined working day.  It was essential to keep up the daily grind.  Social activities became fraught.  Life became ...'fall out of bed, rush to work, be active all day, rush home, have bath, cook meal, beaver away at domestic duties and fall into bed....late!'  Bizarrely, I loved the energy it gave me!  I had really slowed down and now I had the rekindled the kind of energy I had in my career days,  even if it did appear manic to those around me! I was also getting a good night's sleep free of anxiety! That was oh so GOOD!

Shopping for building materials re-entered our lives.  This became frustrating in its apparent consumption of time.  Travelling, purchasing and transporting goods in central France is not a quick fix!  N.B. When buying a house in Central France, ensure you have a DIY store nearby! I forgot about that on my list of criteria for buying a house!