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And so the stud work is up. Now a vile job; the insulation. Every time I get to this part of a renovation I spend a while talking myself out of putting this disgusting stuff in behind the walls and ceilings . It is horrible to touch, it gets in your lungs (though they tell us it is perrfectly safe) and you always get tiny motes in your eyes as bits of `dust` fly off it when you are using it.

As usual, after trying to convince myself that I didn`t need (want) to use it this time I came to the inevitable conclusion that I had to. A joyous afternoon was then spend stuffing the walls and ceiling so tightly with the yellow stuff that just breathing out in the house should keep it warm !

Onwards with the renovation. Now with the floor in it`s so much easier to work. Just to walk around on a flat surface is a pleasure.

Next stage is the ceilings and walls. Firstly, the structure which will hold the platerboard in place needs to be made and this is done with wooden `chevron` (as the French call it). These are basically long strips of wood that are about 66/44 mm wide. The trick is to try and buy them from the builders merchant when it hasn`t rained for a while or they tend to arrive bent which isn`t ideal for your average wall.

Below is the structure for the lounge ceiling. It`s basically a load of hung chevron  all joined together like a huge Meccano set with no instructions. Although it`s hung it`s strong enough walk over the top of it (which I will do because there is a small loft above and I need to go up there to put down the insulation)

Note the rather unattractive grey blockwork and the odd electric cable (all soon to be covered with nice shiny walls !) The green marks were my guides for the concrete floor levels.

Once the ceiling structure is finished the walls can start going up. These are similar to the ceiling but obviously vertical. An upright chevron (called a stud) has to be put every 40cm round the entire house. This amounts to about 300 studs in total. Each one is about 3m long so add this to the base and top plates and I`ll be putting up the best part of 1km of wood.

Each stud must be perfectly upright and be tied into its neighbour. Any mistakes = wonkey walls and that`s not good. Nail guns make this work so much quicker. It`s a v expensive way of buying nails but the time saving is massive. The only catch is that they are VERY dangerous, one against your body would shoot a three inch nail right through it. So far I`ve manaaged it with a thumb and the palm of my hand and believe me it`s not pleasant !

Below is a photo of the stud walls going up

This room will be the bedroom and curving round to the right at the top of the shot will be the showeroom.

This studwork is going to take a few days and once it`s finished I`ll be packing it all out with insulation…………

By the way if you are thinking of renovating a house here in France come and stay in one of our gites.  I`m more than happy to talk you through the renovation process and give you any advice I can. See our gites on our website www.frenchgites.com

Mark

The French love a fete and can make a celebration over just about anything.

For the past couple of weeks I have seen signs advertising a soup fete in La Gacilly.

Sunday afternoon came and we braved the wind and rain and arrived at La Gacilly at about 2.00pm. There was much muttering in the back of the car .. Fetes are supposed to be fun.. all afternoon eating soup…uuk !!.. The road to La Gacilly was teaming with people. Eventually we parked in a temporary car park and made our way to the main street.

To participate, we were required to pay 3 euros each. We were then handed a bowl each and a form on which we were asked to write our thoughts on each soup. There were 40 soups to try !!..

In each shop along the main road of La Gacilly there was a different soup. Iona and Joe looked quite aghast at the prospect of having to try 40 soups !!.. The atmosphere was amazing as everyone jostled along the small roads with bowls in hand.

I think we tried most of the soups, Marks’ favourite was a scallop and mussel soup, the wild mushroom soup was top of my list and Iona and Joe both wanted a second bowlful of the leek and potato soup !!..

I have once again fallen foul of the ‘Rubbish Rules’.

I am quite happily redecorating the lounge / dining / kitchen areas at La Maison Crème.

After two days of soaking and scraping all of the vinyl wallpaper is now finally off the walls and on the floor. I looked at the paper and then looked outside. Across the road, just ten steps away is a large green lidded bin. The temptation is too great. I took huge armfuls of the soggy vinyl wallpaper and dropped it into the bin.

Two days and ten litres of magnolia vinyl silk later there was a knock at the door. It was the man across the road.

‘ Bonjour Madame, you cannot put wallpaper in the bin, it isn’t allowed.’

‘Oh, I am sorry.’ I said, wondering why wallpaper couldn’t go into a landfill.

For the next five minutes I was reprimanded over my crime and wasn’t I lucky the mayor hadn’t found out.

‘So, he continued, you must take all of the paper out of the bin and burn it.’

‘Of course.’ I replied meekly. Now how on earth was I going to get all of the paper out ?, the bins are so deep..I’ll probably fall in !!, I wonder if I’m permitted green topped bin waste !!.

Wearily, I walked across the road and opened the green topped bin. It was empty and there was a fire roaring in Monsieur’s garden.

That is a rare thing. When someone does something without being asked. A true act of kindness.

‘Help, I’ve just remembered I stuffed an empty glass olive oil bottle that I found in the kitchen cupboard in the middle of the wallpaper…. And glass is definitely a forbidden green topped wasted product.

Every November for the past six years I have asked a very good friend, Lisette, if I could go mushroom picking with her as I have no idea which mushrooms are edible and which are poisonous.

Each year she has nodded vaguely, ‘Oui, Oui’.

This morning she was enthusing about this years bumper mushroom crop, so I asked again if she could take me mushroom picking.

This time she looked me straight in the eye, and said. ‘Well, the thing is Nicole, I can’t take you mushroom picking. Each family has its own secret Champignon ‘coin’ (corner) and it is very unlucky to take anyone else there.’

Not deterred, I decided to go mushroom picking alone… I mean how hard could it be ?.

I spent a very pleasant afternoon in the depths of the forest picking every mushroom I came across in the vain hope that some would be edible !.

After three hours the light was fading fast and my basket was now brimming with lots of different varieties of mushrooms so I made my way to Lisette`s for her verdict on my crop.

She tipped the whole basket on the ground and prodded my carefully picked mushrooms with a stick. ‘Je suis desole, Nicole`, but all of these mushrooms are either poisonous of they taste awful’.

‘All of them.’ I repeated.

She then carefully described the two types of mushrooms I should look out for.

Tomorrow I shall try again !!

Yesterday nine cubic metres of ready-mix arrived in two lorries at the same time. Hundreds of gallons of concrete pumped into the house as fast as possible. All to be moved around and levelled acrross the entire ground floor to the centimetre !

Any mistakes and there`s no going back. I have to tile these floors and they have to be dead flat.

All seems OK but only time will tell !

Mark

The septic tank was emptied at 4.00pm.

The tanker arrived and a huge pipe was placed down into the tank and the whole contents were sucked into a large tanker.

The French drainage jokes have been wearing a bit thin. Although my mother in law has kept smiling I think that she will now be very pleased that she can have a shower and flush the toilet !!..

I have just got up, used the toilet, flushed the toilet. The water just rose up and stayed just under the seat. That means one thing, the septic tank is full and it will allow not one more drop of water into its 5,000 litre hold.

Why can’t there be a little warning system to let us know that soon we will not be able to use any water ?.. Actually that same point applies to cooking. The majority of cookers in rural France run on bottled gas and again there isn’t a system to tell you that the gas is running out..it just runs out usually when I’m in the middle of cooking dinner and if I don’t realise the meat is raw and the vegtables are ready !!…well, I digress.

Theoretically septic tanks should never need to be emptied. Basically a septic tank is a huge flat bottomed cube which has three drainpipes connected to the top of the tank which fork out in different directions down the garden. These drain pipes have small holes for their entire length so that they can ‘leak’ water into the soil beneath the grass. It is best not to think about what is being discharged under the grass, but I am assured that the waste water is treated in the tank and when discharged is almost pure. However, the grass grows a lot greener above the drainpipe runs !!.

Every month I religiously empty a sachet of enzymes into the tank to aid the conversion of waste water into cleaner water but there is obviously a blockage somewhere, either in the tank or in one of the discharge pipes.

I shall take Mark a cup of tea and mention that he might like to get his rods and check the discharge pipes and then phone a man with a huge hoover type device which is attached to a tanker and see if he can come an empty our tank. Until then, there can be no showers, no washing (typically I changed all the sheets yesterday as the forecast is fine today !) and no washing up… and to cap it all my mother in law arrives in four hours ….

The electrician`s been, just made it in time !!! The wires are now all over the earth floor. Concrete for the floor slabs is due in this week !!!

Mark

I was busy minding my own business working laying a new lawn for someone today when my mobile rang. It was the EDF (electric board). They were at the house wanting to fit the temporary socket and I was suppossed to be there as well !How was I suppossed to know they were coming I asked ? No response. I tried again ….. “`Did they make an appointment  ?“. Err NON !!!

However, if I was, told if I didn`t arrive straight away then no power would be connected !!!. Luckily I was only working 10 minutes away. When I arrived I found a large lorry which slowly disgorged  three disgruntled Frenchmen all sporting identical moustaches (EDF standard wear perhaps ?). After the formalities I was asked where I`d like my socket. `Anywhere indoors` I said. Well, it was worth a try I thought.  They were not amused and explained that I had the choice of pylons only. I.e I could have the plug and box connected to the base of one of two pylons in the street. The obvious answer was the nearest one so I indicated to it and as if by magic my box and plug were connected to the overhead cables.

I am now the proud owner of  a single socket that I can use for the works. The fact that it is in the middle of the street and anyone who is passing can hook up to it as well is merely a minor inconvenience !!!!

Mark