Phill: “That should be enough for a screw”

No, times haven’t got tough just yet. Trying to drill into a wall made of solid rock got us both so frustrated this afternoon, that we succumbed to the forbidden notion of “that’ll do”. I want to make sure we do everything to the best of our ability here, and we have the time to do it as well as we can, so I never want to settle. Today, though, we had to, and a half inch screw replaced the one and a half inch I had originally picked.

If you’re interested, we were hanging my first couple of creations in Fayssac. We discovered some dusty old planks in the attic which were being used for tread-boards. After a bit of closer examination, they turned out to be oak (for marketing purposes, these will henceforth be referred to as antique French oak boards), and utterly beautiful. Phill grabbed one from the loft, and I cleaned it up, sanded it, waxed it, and turned it into a very lovely hook panel.

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There’s loads of them upstairs, so I’ve decided to make our farmhouse kitchen table out of them (when we have our farmhouse kitchen).

The week’s starting to slow to a more manageable pace – fewer early mornings, thankfully. The fosse is now completely installed and working. The poor builder battled through torrential rain last Friday, and gave up far later than I would have done in his shoes.

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Both cars have been in and out of garages. Staircase builders and stone masons have visited to measure up for quotes. We discovered an antique exhibition and second hand furniture store in Albi and spent next to nothing on 2 antique ornate beds, 3 ornate HUGE wardrobes, a mirror-fronted linen cabinet, and travelling trunk. Bargain! In among all this, Mum and Ian and I have been slowly chipping away at trees and bushes, collecting more firewood, and revealing more of the beautiful valley view, and a lovely stone wall which had hitherto been concealed.

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Mum and Ian flew back to Bristol yesterday, and it feels odd being in the house on our own again. The temperature at night has dropped. It won’t be much longer before we’re desperate for the yet-to-be-installed wood burning stove, which is sitting in the stables.

We treated ourselves to a little drive around this morning and visited a local small town, Lisle-sur-Tarn, splendid in its mediaevalness. We also popped into the local Orange shop, and our new mobile number is up and running finally (dodgy sim card, apparently). Back home to continue chopping wood, and Claude popped in to drop off a package (Phill’s fosse-friendly toiletries) and invite us to drinks on Sunday. His visit coincided with Lionel from the cafe dropping by to tell us about a plant sale at the local garden centre. All very homely, nice and welcoming. My last job of the day was to hang my new creation. How long do you think the screws should be, Phill?

 

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