My very, very, very fine house

May 2010

My very, very, very fine house

It consists of two buildings joined to make an L-shaped property:

1. the original long farm house with a centrally placed chimney / fireplace

2. a barn conversion

A neighbour, who used to live in this house, remembers the farmhouse section being one room,   The position of the entrance doors and chimney confirm this.  She used to wash in a lead bath in the room behind what is now the kitchen.  That room now contains the oil fired central heating system which I'm not using.  It was a very grubby, damp and unpleasant cellar type room.  I now call it the buanderie (laundry room).  It's interesting because this particular part of the property is on the Napoleon cadastral plan.  The neighbour also remembers the house being divided into three small rooms. What is now my ‘small room’ was once the kitchen and what is now the kitchen was once a bedroom. And what is now the oval room was once the living/dining room and still is.

The barn conversion has a bedroom and bathroom and a large living room with a staircase to the attic plus access to a workshop and the rear garden.  The house decoration and barn conversion were made in 1985; the date under the removed wallpaper confirms this!  The large French-brown gates can be closed on the outer world for privacy in the courtyard or be opened wide!

This photo was taken in April just before I bought the property.

The neighbour's garden is behind my barn. The workshop has been constructed of old doors and windows but the footplan is concrete so it will be easy to gain permission to convert it into a pretty verandah. I have a huge water cistern in the ground which collects rain water from the gutters. Looking at the photo the building on the right is not mine.  Out of view is a scruffy shed area and a hen house. No I don't have any inclination to keep chickens.  The garden is L-shaped. It's a wonderful garden because it is very private!

A heritage song comes to mind:  

Crosby Stills Nash & Young - Our House (Live 1974) with thanks to YouTube

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!

Restless at the start

April 30th 2010

 

Once the four brothers and I had signed our names on every page of the Acte de Vente my anxieties were replaced by others but a supportive little bird, held my hand and said "Bravo".  I was so happy,  realizing the importance of this momentous occasion of buying a house in France!  I was not to be restless!  There was to be no more house searching, no more worries about whether a choice or decision is correct, no more money sitting in the bank,  here I was with responsibility creating a whole new stress curve,  just so I could have the security of owning "bricks and mortar" to make a home of my very own. 

My purchase included: 

1. one house with a courtyard and a garden on one plot of land 

2. one garage / stable building with planning permission to convert and extend into a dwelling. 

September 2011
During the last 15 months I've been through a gamut of emotions which are far too difficult to express or even explain.  Colourful it has been!  I'm not sure that I want to delve deeply when it has all been set down and the past is now the past!  
But set down I have been, set down to be in my very own "home" in the present!
 Perhaps it's just not worth the time and energy to try and answer why things are as they are!

This is this and I am lucky to have this as it is.
I am fortunate.

My house and home

On 30th April 2010, I signed for the purchase of my very own property situated in "un plus beaux village de France".  It had been my dream for 7 years since first setting sight on this delightful village and although I had looked at many houses they were always rejected because they were not pretty enough or were without a garden or were without exterior or side windows!
I'd been RestlessinFrance for many years having sold my beautifully renovated 400 year old former English inn, and being Cancerian, needed to have property of my very own.  This is part of my "empire"and I still don't understand why I have it!  I repainted the shutters which were previously brown.

A new story begins of a second new life in France

September 2011 - the approach of Autumn

I can hear the water flowing deeper

in the rippling, rappling river,

amidst the shifting shafts of sunlight sparkling through the bending boughs.

I can feel the brisk, breeze blowing

in my face, hair tingling, tangling 

causing me to shake my head in laughter to see again the view.

I can hear the regular, rhythmic trudge

as I climb the rugged slope,

avoiding rocks and roots of trees for space where feet can be placed.

I can see the change of season

as the browns and greens transform

the track of the leafy, shady arbour where many have walked before.

I can crunch the sharp, black, juicy fruit

of blackberries untouched,

Fronds of fennel, oregano wild and sweet pink marjoram clutched.

I can knock the dark brown walnuts

out of their green protective case,

one stamp and wiggle out nutmeat, to eat as a tasty treat.

I can smell the warmth of history

as I pass the secret garden gate

of a tiny hidden house overhanging forbidden Magdalenian caves.

I can be the buzzard flying

gracefully, regally, high

above the earth-brown, autumn tilled field, eagle eyes searching for prey.

Praise the wind, the sun and earth

for all that it supplies

to give me hope and radiance -  a feast before my eyes.

I can tread these walks of a village I love,

choose a new path every day,

celebrate the gift of life, for tomorrow, we know not come what may.

This is this.

A gift for all my friends.

My reasons for creating this diary and blog

A Life of Enquiry

I'm creating a narrative with regard to owning French property, having purchased a renovation project! As a result I think I am 'growing up' in retirement age. I try to conceal a personal, private story apart from a public story but that which I share, indicates a journey in My Life. I'm confronting life-long behaviour patterns and emotions. Fluctuating levels of sanity or insanity arrive as I strive to correct 'mistakes' and yet these have created who I am. Courage and confidence have to be learned. I try not to seek approval or disapproval. I know who I am when I feel happiness being as free as the wind walking on the beach. No beaches where I live!Since the 1970s without influence I developed my own ideas about the primary classroom and that EDUCATION should instil ENQUIRY. One of the most important gifts for the child is to develop confidence. It is learned. It is vital not to become passive nor aggressive, but to become assertive and express one's opinion. Despite teaching this, I did not learn it! Being proactive to make a decision and choice requires confidence. My parents never encouraged me/ taught me to be confident so I wonder if my own children learned their confidence from their life with me? I definitely tried to impart it to the primary children who were receptive in my classroom but with my own children I think I was more strict!
In my later life I acknowledge that every action, look, word, thought has consequences and that we choose every second of the day what the future will be! My own children seem to have learned this before me and have become self-assured adults. I'm still learning to begin to manage thought and conduct and still I make mistakes. I believe that we have the power to make changes that should not hurt anyone and it is important to be considerate of others. But when sometimes thoughts and feelings are projected onto us, it is more about the person the observations emanate from. It is better to walk away. I try to live by observing the outside-of-me-myself-world and heed my intuition.
I have come to my house to enquire about many things. It asks me to be patient, calm, active and it would like me to be confident and have more courage.
I love my place in France but I miss my home. I enjoy living in one of the most beautiful villages in France but yearn for the beaches, reedbeds, pretty houses, cream scones and Adnams beer of the Suffolk and Norfolk coastlines.
I miss the sound of the sea.
"A home is where a heart is and my heart is in France as well as near the sea and the East Anglian coast. When I love two or more places, I can enjoy being wherever I am, and when I go from one place to the other I can always look forward to going home!"