Windy and rain forecast all day. 7:30 and it is still pitch dark (but it is light until 6 in the evening). Another good night, tho I could have slept for another hour at least. And I found a chamber pot, one of the lovely coppers from the wall in the kitchen. Surprised by how heavy it is. My pooh has immediately started to smell very French. The magnificient loo continues to delight.
Have I mentioned the wall papers? Everywhere different, and all lovely - my room, the nursery, is pink roses, with a little ante room done in a small strong red diamond pattern. The throne room is black with large lilies, peeling away in the chimney leading up to a skylight. The halls and passages mostly a red fabric (silk?) much of it peeling off. The Secherons were in the painting and decorating business apparently. Some rooms the wallpaper covers the ceilings as well as the walls. It looks rather effective.
Frederique and Marie Dominique (ex Le Monde). M-D a mad turner-offer, keeps plunging dimly lit rooms into darkness. Her hubby Yves 'fixed' the boiler attempting to adjust the thermostat and now we have no hot water in the kitchen. Apart from the big pan on the woodburning stove which we keep burning all day. Just like Lagos Raki, only with a lot more wood.
Giovanni Felicioni is the worldwide point of contact for all things Bonnevaux.
Lie in 'cos it's Saturday, so meditation together in the salle a manger at 8am. Jean Christophe turned up to chain saw the logs for the Edspace base and to go hunting, but hunting was off 'cos it was pouring with rain and blowing a gale, so we sent him away. He went hunting anyway apparently.
Stuart and Andrew and I unpacked the van which fitted very neatly in the stable archway and all the bits went into the old stables and tack room (both enormous). Then Stuart and I worked on the base and fitted the DPC (NOT DPM) to the first course and then discussed the second course and laid it with a hole for the services (foul and grey water drainage, water and electricity inlet). Later I got the brand new chain saw started and lopped off the extra bits. We have one beam left over. I don't think I've damaged the chain saw.
Marie-D and Frederique went off to the market and then a diplomatic visit to the neighbours which they reported went very well. They (the voisins) had thought of buying the Abbaye as a meditation and retreat centre - they could afford to buy it (800K euros), but not the monster bill to renovate it (5mn euros) - and were very pleased that we had done so and to see the lights on in the old place (the Secherons never turned them on). They run a gite so that's the accomodation sorted for random rubbernecking non-contributing guests. And Thierry at the cafe in Marcay is very pleased because he foresees lots of mass catering opportunities.
George arrived on the TGV from Paris via London at lunchtime and he and Stuart got stuck into assembling the edspace, after they had checked and reset my levels (with a laser levelling gauge to within 5mm over the whole area - 7m x 2.4m). They carried on working until supper at 8pm. I went for a kip at 5.30 and missed Marie-D and Fred. leaving. Andrew spoke to Jacqueline Russell on the phone who's mad keen to come and sent her love. More difficulties at supper not having a beer, whisky and soda or wine, but I was happy enough in the end with the last of the tonic water. Ate too much cheese, especially a very violent Roquefort but I still slept like a pig. Don't know why I feel so tired (in a good way) - can't be too much fresh air, I get plenty at Sweffling.
I've finished CS Lewis' A Grief Observed. Very short. Got better (less self pity and silliness at the end) but still very argumentative and heady as he acknowledges himself. Fascinating the insights and crossovers between grief for death and separation. Made me think a lot about Pol and I (the cycle / spiral of depression, grief, despair, anger, liberation, joy) and how good it is that the lost love is still around, and can't turn into some fantasy figure. I don't have to remember the pleasure of her company, or her irritations, or she mine, I can just go and stay, or ring her up. It's funny how much a gap alcohol created, as my smoking still does, and how much better, more naturally, we seem to be with each other. If she snaps, I snap back, and vice versa, but there's no baggage in it, no bitterness, no farming back as she would say. Lewis very hung up on the after life and being with Helen / Joy in the 'next life'. I suppose it could be true.
Not doing any Metanoia, or proof reading of Stuart's book - really no time. Doing this is a bit of a strain.
Have I mentioned the wall papers? Everywhere different, and all lovely - my room, the nursery, is pink roses, with a little ante room done in a small strong red diamond pattern. The throne room is black with large lilies, peeling away in the chimney leading up to a skylight. The halls and passages mostly a red fabric (silk?) much of it peeling off. The Secherons were in the painting and decorating business apparently. Some rooms the wallpaper covers the ceilings as well as the walls. It looks rather effective.
Frederique and Marie Dominique (ex Le Monde). M-D a mad turner-offer, keeps plunging dimly lit rooms into darkness. Her hubby Yves 'fixed' the boiler attempting to adjust the thermostat and now we have no hot water in the kitchen. Apart from the big pan on the woodburning stove which we keep burning all day. Just like Lagos Raki, only with a lot more wood.
Giovanni Felicioni is the worldwide point of contact for all things Bonnevaux.
Lie in 'cos it's Saturday, so meditation together in the salle a manger at 8am. Jean Christophe turned up to chain saw the logs for the Edspace base and to go hunting, but hunting was off 'cos it was pouring with rain and blowing a gale, so we sent him away. He went hunting anyway apparently.
Stuart and Andrew and I unpacked the van which fitted very neatly in the stable archway and all the bits went into the old stables and tack room (both enormous). Then Stuart and I worked on the base and fitted the DPC (NOT DPM) to the first course and then discussed the second course and laid it with a hole for the services (foul and grey water drainage, water and electricity inlet). Later I got the brand new chain saw started and lopped off the extra bits. We have one beam left over. I don't think I've damaged the chain saw.
Marie-D and Frederique went off to the market and then a diplomatic visit to the neighbours which they reported went very well. They (the voisins) had thought of buying the Abbaye as a meditation and retreat centre - they could afford to buy it (800K euros), but not the monster bill to renovate it (5mn euros) - and were very pleased that we had done so and to see the lights on in the old place (the Secherons never turned them on). They run a gite so that's the accomodation sorted for random rubbernecking non-contributing guests. And Thierry at the cafe in Marcay is very pleased because he foresees lots of mass catering opportunities.
George arrived on the TGV from Paris via London at lunchtime and he and Stuart got stuck into assembling the edspace, after they had checked and reset my levels (with a laser levelling gauge to within 5mm over the whole area - 7m x 2.4m). They carried on working until supper at 8pm. I went for a kip at 5.30 and missed Marie-D and Fred. leaving. Andrew spoke to Jacqueline Russell on the phone who's mad keen to come and sent her love. More difficulties at supper not having a beer, whisky and soda or wine, but I was happy enough in the end with the last of the tonic water. Ate too much cheese, especially a very violent Roquefort but I still slept like a pig. Don't know why I feel so tired (in a good way) - can't be too much fresh air, I get plenty at Sweffling.
I've finished CS Lewis' A Grief Observed. Very short. Got better (less self pity and silliness at the end) but still very argumentative and heady as he acknowledges himself. Fascinating the insights and crossovers between grief for death and separation. Made me think a lot about Pol and I (the cycle / spiral of depression, grief, despair, anger, liberation, joy) and how good it is that the lost love is still around, and can't turn into some fantasy figure. I don't have to remember the pleasure of her company, or her irritations, or she mine, I can just go and stay, or ring her up. It's funny how much a gap alcohol created, as my smoking still does, and how much better, more naturally, we seem to be with each other. If she snaps, I snap back, and vice versa, but there's no baggage in it, no bitterness, no farming back as she would say. Lewis very hung up on the after life and being with Helen / Joy in the 'next life'. I suppose it could be true.
Not doing any Metanoia, or proof reading of Stuart's book - really no time. Doing this is a bit of a strain.
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