Posts Tagged french house
I just realised, whilst going back over some old posts, that I didn’t update you on our little bit of building work that turned into a bigger bit of building work.
Do you remember this?
Well, now it’s more like this (and has been for a couple of months now but I got distracted).
If you click on the photo you get a nice big image but try not to notice the dust or the dog making the place look untidy.
Just thought I’d let you know as some of you expressed an interest in seeing the finished project.
Just to let you know why my Colette Zinnia skirt is still a work in progress and why I haven’t started another Skater Dress even though I’ve got the fabric. We’ve got the builders in. Well, I say ‘the builders’ it’s actually just one builder and I was very pleased with him until today when he disappeared a bit early and isn’t coming tomorrow at all, leaving me in a miasma of dust and uncertainty. Our old insert fire was showing its age and the faux chimney breast above was cracking badly so we decided to have that knocked out and get a free standing wood burner as we have in another room.
Yes, that’s the sort of thing, now just take out the old insert and make the wall good. What’s that you say? The wall to the right hand side has a void behind it so you could take it right back and take out the cupboard in the corner – it would make a bigger room. Oh, go on then.
Back to the original, original wall now, well mostly. I suppose these things happen when you have an ancient house and we know this and usually don’t tackle anything needing more than a screwdriver or, occasionally, a bit of light drilling. I’ve always fancied an exposed stone wall so that’s one redecorating decision made. There was an old doorway behind the cupboard and we plan on keeping the frame and infilling with stone – of which we have plenty – see small sample on left. At least the flue is now hanging straight down instead of draped across a crumbly wall. Stan is looking for rodent skeletons.
Ready to start backfilling and pointing up now but the builder has gone and won’t be coming back until the day after tomorrow. Something about not having the right sand.
Might as well go and finish putting the pleats in my skirt then.
On Saturday mornings I go to a yoga class. I go for my body but I wish it would help me with my mind too. I just cannot meditate or ‘switch off’. If anybody needed a bit of chanting and zoning out and chakra and zen (see, I even misuse the terminology) it’s me. My lovely teacher, Elizabeth, who is calmness and grace personified, tells us that, if we find our mind wandering during relaxation or meditation we must just acknowledge it, put it to one side and start concentrating on our breathing again. I try, I really do but all the time I am thinking of what I am going to do the rest of the day, what fabric I’m going to use for which project, whether there’s going to be a good flea market on the next morning, will I be able to understand the next episode of Dr. Who and just ‘stuff’ in general. This is why I can’t sleep at night.
I keep going though because it’s supposed to help with arthritis – which I haven’t got yet and don’t want – and flexibility. Apparently, I am very flexible. I am keeping this a secret from Mr. T in case he gets any ideas. Also, who wouldn’t want to pitch up here every saturday morning?
It’s a lovely drive on the way there too. Lots of fields and greenery and livestock and deserted roads and teeny villages and time to stop and go aaaaaah.
Any tips for ‘switching off’ would be gratefully received – preferably non-alcohol related as I do that already – although not before yoga on a saturday morning.