John Main reading yesterday in chapel before lunch. (NB Henriette and Soren destroyed the altar rail - only made of plaster, as is the altar, and most of the chapel interior). "wholehearted". I want to be wholehearted about Bonnevaux, or Naxos.
Super-U and the hors d'oeuvres
At the end of a long day, and still some way from Bonnevaux, I suddenly noticed a Super-U as I approached another roundabout. They sell a nice NA bière blonde so i thought I would pop in. Round the corner, passed the petrol station, up a likely looking side road, then down another one that appeared to go into the back of the Super-U, only it didn't, just led to a closed security gate. I then spent about 40 minutes learning how to reverse my caravan back up the 500 metres to the main road. Back to the roundabout, drove up the road looking for the entrance, but there was no way in and I had to drive a couple of kilometres back to the previous roundabout and then back again to where I had first spotted the Super-U. The entrance was through the garage although again the French clearly felt there was no need to explain this. So, into the Super-U. I bought kettle chips, cornichons, smoked ham, and then found a complete rack of non-alcoholic beers, so I bought a pack of everything. Then spent a happy evening driving down the road to Poitiers, sampling the beers and eating the crisps, cornichons and bacon. And I now know I can reverse the caravan, if I absolutely have to; it's much more difficult than reversing a glider trailer, which is 8 or 9 metres long.
i've worked out what to with my pictures - I'm going to stick them to the ceiling. the dalai lama may visit, so i can show him his predecessor if he does. it's funny rebecca who i first met on the christian mysticism course in 2004 came to the wccm for the same reason as me - because the dalai lama said grow in the pot you were planted in.
henriette much smilier yesterday - perhaps because i didn't spoil the morning meeting by turning up, or maybe she was just feeling rough. another cancer survivor. brijji too, so meditation clearly isn't a preventative. maybe it helps you cope. henriette did an excellent intro to meditation for a young french permaculture couple from chateauriault (friends of thomas, who translated henriette's talk, which also helped, by slowing it down). v gentle and not insistent on the mantra, and mindful too. interesting chat with thomas at supper about cassian and the desert fathers and praying a formula. he wanted to know if christian meditation was "real" or just a modern invention.
I re-arranged my sleeping arrangements - my first night I felt like I was going to roll off my bunk, so I set it up to sleep across the caravan under the big window at the end, which was more comfortable, although my 'mattress' was made of multiple cushions which started to shift. Long term I probably need a proper made to measure mattress to fit the space exactly. The new system is easier to set up as well, and I can use the window ledge as my bedside table.
I realised I really am in a bit of a bind here (and couldn't stop thinking about it during morning meditation - I was late, 6.45 is not early enough to make myself a cup of tea and get dressed and have a fag - and I didn't have time to go to the loo). After med, I used the outside loo and had a wash - water nice and hot so I shall try a shower. Andrew says his water is 'tepid' which seems odd as my first shower was boiling, but I had had the heater on for at least 12 hours. The clever French plumber hasn't fitted the water softener, but it can't have calcified the element in 4 weeks. Maybe he fiddled with the thermostat.
Anyway back to the bind. I'm tucked into a shed, open at the east end, so at least my big window faces out into the rising sun (there was a glimpse this morning - terrific storm last night with a lot of rain and thunder and lightning). I can't see how I'm going to rig up my solar panel, unless I run a very long wire back from it to the caravan - it wants to be in full sun all day, facing south. And I can't light my stove under the lean to roof - all wooden beams carrying big tiles. Jean-Christophe has some tuilot (pipes I think) from the cooker in the chateau kitchen, which I could use to extend my exterior chimney up and through the roof of the shed.I just need to remove a tile or two - they're pretty big. I don't want all the money I've spent to be wasted, and I really don't want to live in the farm when I have my caravan all comfy and organised, even if I stay here for ever - I really do want to live off grid, in my own space. Soren has already laid claim to the hunting lodge, now called the hermitage, and J-C says he's done a lot of good work. Go and inspect. He's not back until September, so I could live there.
I don't want to be forced to leave the community because of the caravan issues, and go to Naxos by default. Actually I think I can make it work in the short term, and in the long run we're all dead.
The news on France Musique sounds all bad - lots of grèves (strikes I think, rolling on the TGV, appropriately), Syria sounds bad, some eco-squat in London with composting toilets has been shut down by the authorities - it sounded like Notre Dame de Londres but that can't be right. It doesn't seem terribly important in French. Must do my babbel lessons.
I've worked out what my radio on my phone is for. It's crap, but it finds all the stations available, and gives me their names and exact frequencies, and then I can find them on my tranny and make sure they match. It was funny how my tranny was tuned exactly to France Musique (Radio 3 effectively) when I turned it on - nowhere close to where I normally set the dial for Radio 4 in England.
My battery torch / light works brilliantly I've discovered, if you put fresh batteries in. It has three settings - a torch, a very bright floodlight, and then a dimmer version. The bright floodlight lights up the whole caravan. Sorted through my bag of AAA batteries last night and discovered most of them are completely dead. Must eat porridge - morning meeting at 9. And the Chrome battery is nearly dead.
Perfect porridge. Not too hot, or cold, or salty, and the pan isn't burnt and the quantity just right - 2/3 tumbler oats, 1 1/4 tumbler water, 1/2 tspn salt. It's a big pan so it cooks very quickly. For some reason none of my pans have lids, so I warm my porridge plate by making it do duty as a lid. I realise my rather battered big old red casserole pan which I gave to the charity shop had a big lid which did duty for all my pots and pans, including my enormous frying pan. Buy some sausages!
Feet very cold. I don't think there's a draught, it's just the floor of the caravan is uninsulated. Get a trickle charger for my battery, then at least I can have electric lights, and light my gas heater. Candles are lovely and very atmospheric, but they don't give much light and are expensive. No-one makes oil lamps any more apparently, according to Cost-a-Fortune. But then they don't sell Opinel knives either. They only have rather poncy solar lights, mostly with horrid blue-white LEDs.
My new wellies have gone already - I'm wearing Laurence's! (It turned out Daniel had taken them, well aware that they were mine, but didn't seem to think it necessary to ask me if that was alright, and seemed quite hurt that I asked him to do so in future - the joys of community!)
J-C met me after the meeting - he said Andrew would not let me have the woodburner in the caravan in the shed, because of the risk of burning down the shed. Andrew came up to the caravan for a 'chat' and started waffling about J-C (who IS pissed off but not I think with me) and the woodburner. I jumped right in and got him to admit that he Andrew was the one who was unhappy. Then had a rant about the whole caravan situation and how much I'd spent on the woodburner/solar panel/car etc and would like some support. Calmed down and we agreed that we would ask the mayor for exceptional permission, while building work continues and there is no accommodation for me, to park the caravan in what now looks like the perfect spot, tucked away behind a wall but open to the sky and with a clear south facing aspect for the panel (and daylight for me). Should have put it there in the first place! I explained about not wanting to feel like I had to leave for Naxos just because I cannot live comfortably here in my caravan. Andrew has asked me to draft a letter to Mme. le Maire (or should it be la Mairée?).
Share tomorrow the importance of not lying, telling the truth, not gossiping, no polite / convenient half truths, no white lies, in community (as Benedict says) - don't say anything that you do not know to be true, not 'someone told me' but Mr or Ms {name} told me.
J-C was pissed off because Andrew had not told me about the stove (quite right too - Andrew could have brought it up at the morning meeting).
I've volunteered to cook lunch for 7, and take Henriette to the airport at 3pm, and get the tyre replaced at the Citroen dealer in Vivonne, and do some shopping.
They liked my lunch (well they ate it all up and Henriette said how nice it was) - spicy ratatouille and pasta / brown rice and a salad.
J-C and I moved the caravan to its new spot. I met M.Ruel and explained what we were doing and we were going to ask Mme le Maire (it is le Maire) for temporaire permet to keep the caravan on site. First thing he asked when I said I was staying was where would I sleep! He didn't seem to have a problem with the plan. Gave me a nice welcome. New spot is perfect. Taking Henriette to the airport and getting the tyre sorted.
A nice goodbye to Henriette and then wasted time in Vivonne's Brico and Super-U looking for a battery charger, a pot and a combination monox/smoke detector. And an Opinel. Either non existent or amazingly expensive. The caravan was so hot when I got back I had to open the windows.
Pasta for lunch, bloat and fatigue for tea.
Rebecca went a bit mad with the gong at meditation, and then my phone went off in the middle of her poem (we had been in the Chapel for 45 minutes).
Super-U and the hors d'oeuvres
At the end of a long day, and still some way from Bonnevaux, I suddenly noticed a Super-U as I approached another roundabout. They sell a nice NA bière blonde so i thought I would pop in. Round the corner, passed the petrol station, up a likely looking side road, then down another one that appeared to go into the back of the Super-U, only it didn't, just led to a closed security gate. I then spent about 40 minutes learning how to reverse my caravan back up the 500 metres to the main road. Back to the roundabout, drove up the road looking for the entrance, but there was no way in and I had to drive a couple of kilometres back to the previous roundabout and then back again to where I had first spotted the Super-U. The entrance was through the garage although again the French clearly felt there was no need to explain this. So, into the Super-U. I bought kettle chips, cornichons, smoked ham, and then found a complete rack of non-alcoholic beers, so I bought a pack of everything. Then spent a happy evening driving down the road to Poitiers, sampling the beers and eating the crisps, cornichons and bacon. And I now know I can reverse the caravan, if I absolutely have to; it's much more difficult than reversing a glider trailer, which is 8 or 9 metres long.
i've worked out what to with my pictures - I'm going to stick them to the ceiling. the dalai lama may visit, so i can show him his predecessor if he does. it's funny rebecca who i first met on the christian mysticism course in 2004 came to the wccm for the same reason as me - because the dalai lama said grow in the pot you were planted in.
henriette much smilier yesterday - perhaps because i didn't spoil the morning meeting by turning up, or maybe she was just feeling rough. another cancer survivor. brijji too, so meditation clearly isn't a preventative. maybe it helps you cope. henriette did an excellent intro to meditation for a young french permaculture couple from chateauriault (friends of thomas, who translated henriette's talk, which also helped, by slowing it down). v gentle and not insistent on the mantra, and mindful too. interesting chat with thomas at supper about cassian and the desert fathers and praying a formula. he wanted to know if christian meditation was "real" or just a modern invention.
I re-arranged my sleeping arrangements - my first night I felt like I was going to roll off my bunk, so I set it up to sleep across the caravan under the big window at the end, which was more comfortable, although my 'mattress' was made of multiple cushions which started to shift. Long term I probably need a proper made to measure mattress to fit the space exactly. The new system is easier to set up as well, and I can use the window ledge as my bedside table.
I realised I really am in a bit of a bind here (and couldn't stop thinking about it during morning meditation - I was late, 6.45 is not early enough to make myself a cup of tea and get dressed and have a fag - and I didn't have time to go to the loo). After med, I used the outside loo and had a wash - water nice and hot so I shall try a shower. Andrew says his water is 'tepid' which seems odd as my first shower was boiling, but I had had the heater on for at least 12 hours. The clever French plumber hasn't fitted the water softener, but it can't have calcified the element in 4 weeks. Maybe he fiddled with the thermostat.
Anyway back to the bind. I'm tucked into a shed, open at the east end, so at least my big window faces out into the rising sun (there was a glimpse this morning - terrific storm last night with a lot of rain and thunder and lightning). I can't see how I'm going to rig up my solar panel, unless I run a very long wire back from it to the caravan - it wants to be in full sun all day, facing south. And I can't light my stove under the lean to roof - all wooden beams carrying big tiles. Jean-Christophe has some tuilot (pipes I think) from the cooker in the chateau kitchen, which I could use to extend my exterior chimney up and through the roof of the shed.I just need to remove a tile or two - they're pretty big. I don't want all the money I've spent to be wasted, and I really don't want to live in the farm when I have my caravan all comfy and organised, even if I stay here for ever - I really do want to live off grid, in my own space. Soren has already laid claim to the hunting lodge, now called the hermitage, and J-C says he's done a lot of good work. Go and inspect. He's not back until September, so I could live there.
I don't want to be forced to leave the community because of the caravan issues, and go to Naxos by default. Actually I think I can make it work in the short term, and in the long run we're all dead.
The news on France Musique sounds all bad - lots of grèves (strikes I think, rolling on the TGV, appropriately), Syria sounds bad, some eco-squat in London with composting toilets has been shut down by the authorities - it sounded like Notre Dame de Londres but that can't be right. It doesn't seem terribly important in French. Must do my babbel lessons.
I've worked out what my radio on my phone is for. It's crap, but it finds all the stations available, and gives me their names and exact frequencies, and then I can find them on my tranny and make sure they match. It was funny how my tranny was tuned exactly to France Musique (Radio 3 effectively) when I turned it on - nowhere close to where I normally set the dial for Radio 4 in England.
My battery torch / light works brilliantly I've discovered, if you put fresh batteries in. It has three settings - a torch, a very bright floodlight, and then a dimmer version. The bright floodlight lights up the whole caravan. Sorted through my bag of AAA batteries last night and discovered most of them are completely dead. Must eat porridge - morning meeting at 9. And the Chrome battery is nearly dead.
Perfect porridge. Not too hot, or cold, or salty, and the pan isn't burnt and the quantity just right - 2/3 tumbler oats, 1 1/4 tumbler water, 1/2 tspn salt. It's a big pan so it cooks very quickly. For some reason none of my pans have lids, so I warm my porridge plate by making it do duty as a lid. I realise my rather battered big old red casserole pan which I gave to the charity shop had a big lid which did duty for all my pots and pans, including my enormous frying pan. Buy some sausages!
Feet very cold. I don't think there's a draught, it's just the floor of the caravan is uninsulated. Get a trickle charger for my battery, then at least I can have electric lights, and light my gas heater. Candles are lovely and very atmospheric, but they don't give much light and are expensive. No-one makes oil lamps any more apparently, according to Cost-a-Fortune. But then they don't sell Opinel knives either. They only have rather poncy solar lights, mostly with horrid blue-white LEDs.
My new wellies have gone already - I'm wearing Laurence's! (It turned out Daniel had taken them, well aware that they were mine, but didn't seem to think it necessary to ask me if that was alright, and seemed quite hurt that I asked him to do so in future - the joys of community!)
J-C met me after the meeting - he said Andrew would not let me have the woodburner in the caravan in the shed, because of the risk of burning down the shed. Andrew came up to the caravan for a 'chat' and started waffling about J-C (who IS pissed off but not I think with me) and the woodburner. I jumped right in and got him to admit that he Andrew was the one who was unhappy. Then had a rant about the whole caravan situation and how much I'd spent on the woodburner/solar panel/car etc and would like some support. Calmed down and we agreed that we would ask the mayor for exceptional permission, while building work continues and there is no accommodation for me, to park the caravan in what now looks like the perfect spot, tucked away behind a wall but open to the sky and with a clear south facing aspect for the panel (and daylight for me). Should have put it there in the first place! I explained about not wanting to feel like I had to leave for Naxos just because I cannot live comfortably here in my caravan. Andrew has asked me to draft a letter to Mme. le Maire (or should it be la Mairée?).
Share tomorrow the importance of not lying, telling the truth, not gossiping, no polite / convenient half truths, no white lies, in community (as Benedict says) - don't say anything that you do not know to be true, not 'someone told me' but Mr or Ms {name} told me.
J-C was pissed off because Andrew had not told me about the stove (quite right too - Andrew could have brought it up at the morning meeting).
I've volunteered to cook lunch for 7, and take Henriette to the airport at 3pm, and get the tyre replaced at the Citroen dealer in Vivonne, and do some shopping.
They liked my lunch (well they ate it all up and Henriette said how nice it was) - spicy ratatouille and pasta / brown rice and a salad.
J-C and I moved the caravan to its new spot. I met M.Ruel and explained what we were doing and we were going to ask Mme le Maire (it is le Maire) for temporaire permet to keep the caravan on site. First thing he asked when I said I was staying was where would I sleep! He didn't seem to have a problem with the plan. Gave me a nice welcome. New spot is perfect. Taking Henriette to the airport and getting the tyre sorted.
A nice goodbye to Henriette and then wasted time in Vivonne's Brico and Super-U looking for a battery charger, a pot and a combination monox/smoke detector. And an Opinel. Either non existent or amazingly expensive. The caravan was so hot when I got back I had to open the windows.
Pasta for lunch, bloat and fatigue for tea.
Rebecca went a bit mad with the gong at meditation, and then my phone went off in the middle of her poem (we had been in the Chapel for 45 minutes).
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