This was our roof from three years ago, after it had been attacked by storm Katie and annihalated by a twister going right through our garden.
As most of you know it has been the hardest part of this adventure to find work, or people you can trust to work for; and so we had no money to repair it. I have written only recently how we did not let that stop us, we carried on, we had no choice. (Boy can I see that what Rich and I went through was in prep for this adventure, because we already knew that nothing could beat us!)
But as I wrote in September the roof was finally being replaced; and oh my it is a piece of art!
Our wonderful builder Rob is a skilled man, because the roof had been open to the elements for so long some of the rafters had to be repaired (not replaced because bless him he knew we had to keep costs down.)
Being a carpenter Rob repaired joists and the result, particularly at the back of the roof is stunning; with it’s curves it looks like a wing of one of the kestrels or eagles that fly around us up here.
I love the contrast of the black tiles (black is de rigeur because we are in a protected national park, in fact we have only just found out that our barn is classed as a listed building because it was built in 1812) and the zinc edging that catches the light.
Having lived for three winters with the rain pouring in at times (we only had a worn out old tarp to protect it and we had bowles everywhere catching the water) my husband now dances round the kitchen every time it rains singing the ‘We’re lovely and dry’ song! Small things eh?!
This year we have achieved a lot with new doors and the new roof we are now warm and toasty; which means that the electric heater in the kitchen keeps us warm and the old calor gas fire, that we had in the kitchen, has now been moved up into the bedroom where I write, no more cold feet and hands for me this winter!
Small things, they are what matter.
Moisy
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Firstly I want to say a big thank you to all those who offered their advice regarding my question on my last post. A new blog will be set up early next week, it may shock some of you, but will show how adversity can, more often than not, bring about change for the good.
The roof is now well underway, as you can see from the picture above the old dormer window has now gone. We had to be realistic we were never going to use the small amount of storage space in the roof, and to keep it would have added additional cost to the work, so it had to go.
Continuing with the theme of change the roof started to help us understand the history of this house. We had always thought that our kitchen was a later ‘addition’ to the house (our house was built in 1812) but we now know that it had been an open ended stable, and the loft above it would have been used to store the hay for the animals. At some point it was bricked up and turned into our kitchen. You can see from the photo how the bricks were put in to create a doorway, and if you look to the left I believe that there used to be a window there also.
It also explains why we have such small windows (soon to be made bigger) in the wall at the side of the house, they would have just been open windows, the type you find in a barn.
The door to our living room from the kitchen is a beautiful, sturdy, solid oak door (shame about the wallpaper on it for some reason French people used to love wallpapering doors!) so we had assumed that this had been an outside door at some stage in our house’s history.
We also had our suspicions because it was clear that at some point the front door to our house was here, leading straight into what is now our big our living room. There is a concrete lintel in the floor under the window, which was a step at one time.
It was probably led into a small kitchen then, as you can see that our living room was originally two rooms, as there is a steel rafter across the centre of the room.
It’s been an exciting and busy time, the cats have loved investigating the old loft space, and our garden looks like a building site, but the first stage of the roof is now watertight and ready for the tiles next week.
We have been blessed with good weather, and I am counting my blessings every day. I realise as I write this now, how we are making more changes to this house, that will add to it’s history that, one day, someone else will uncover.
As I always say the only constant in life is change.
Keep reading, there’s more to come folks.
Moisy
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“An integral being knows without going, see withoug looking, and accomplishes without doing.”Â
Lao Tzu
In my previous post I told you how our roof is now being replaced, but for those who like to think differently there is more of a story here – it is how Rich and I have learnt to accept things as they are, and now things are coming together.
This has been our kitchen roof for the last two and a half years.
I wrote in a previous blog about Allianz the insurance company with whom we had our house insured, and how when storm Katy blew through in the March 2016, she ripped some holes in our roof and the insurance company refused to pay out because ‘we had not maintained it!’ Considering we had only lived here seven months that was difficult!
We had run out of money at that time and had no means to repair it. We listened to others and bought some tiles when we had some money left from our intermittent income believing that we would eventually accumulate enought to repair the roof, but we never did; we tried to drive circumstance and made our lives even more difficult because we were spending money we could not afford on something that was going to do nothing. As if to prove the point in the September a tornado ripped through the garden, literally! It took half the silver birch with it, and our gazebo, it carried Harley’s paddling pool off into the chemin
…but more than anything it took half the roof!
So for two years we lived with a tarpaulin. Two tarpaulins over each other in fact, after the cat ripped one!
At first Rich and I could not see how we could carry on living here, or carry on with this adventure. Other’s asked whether life was indeed trying to ‘show us the way’ and if we should give up. But at this point I had started to read the Tao, and I did not want to go home. People asked how we could live like it, but, as someone said to me “It wouldn’t be an adventure if there weren’t bumps in the road!”
So we did the only thing we could do, we carried on and believed that good things would come our way one day.
At first Rich got really stressed. worried about the timber rotting – as someone helpfully told him it would – questioned how we were living like this, but I never stopped believing; and I would read the Tao to him and eventually he ‘got it’. So whilst over the years we’ve had bowls all over the kitchen at times, and learnt how to stop water splashing everywhere, we also learnt to accept that it had not killed us, had not killed our dream and we were still here. The worry about how we would survive left us because we knew that to worry about something that you cannot change is just a waste of energy that will just bring negative shit your way; and most important of all we learned to laugh about it.
As time went by I started to read Deepak chopra and as he says:
‘You accept things as they are, not as you wish they were in this moment. This is important to understand. You can wish for things in the future to be different but in ‘this’ moment you have to accept things as they are.”Â
(The Seven psiritual Laws of Success – The Law of Least Effort)
This situation has reminded me of my old life when I lived in England; then we would have stressed to the max about getting the roof fixed, got into debt, panicked, listened to others who would have said we had to get it done. We would have believed that we could not survive without it, and we would have worried about what other’s thought. Here in rural France everyone lives simply, and I find that people understand and accept when people cannot afford things and they do not judge – not our neighbours anyway. But most importantly Rich and I have learnt not to care what other’s think, to let go of our egos and just be us. I say it often, as my darling late mum used to say “All the time they are judging you they are leaving someone else alone.” A brilliant way to look at things.
So here we are over two years later and our roof is being replaced. I know that this is at the right moment of time that his has happened and I know that we had to be without that roof to show us that we did not need what we thought we did; that nothing other than ill health and death is insurmountable and that something would come along in the end and enable us to replace our roof – and come along it did. But most importantly this lesson showed Rich and I that you do not need everything that you think you do – No, not even a roof!!
Let go, don’t force things and see what happens.
Trust – Always
Moisy
“Relinquish your attachment to the known, step into the unknown, and you will step into the filed of all possibilities. ”
Deepak Chopra (The Seven Spiritual Laws of Success.)
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I have made myself a promise, in this insane world, to give myself a little silence every day.
Here in France it is a beautiful autumn day, the sun is bright and warm, with just the occasional cloud blowing by.
So I took the time, from my what can be stressful days at the moment, and I had my tea and toast outside with the Welshies.
As I sat listening to the birds singing, and the trees sighing with resignation as the breeze took more of their leaves from them, I thought back to my first autumn here. I can remember how I would stand by my washing line and look around me in amazement that I owned the land where the huge oak trees loomed over me, and the crab apple dropped her apples loudly onto the goat shed roof. I remember walking up the chemin that was covered with a carpet of acorns and cob nuts crunching underfoot, and thinking this is mine.
But it was never mine, I never owned it, I borrowed it when I needed to heal, and it did it’s job. Now it’s time to let it go, and let someone else sit as the leaves blow by. Let someone else look down in wonder at the carpet of walnuts hiding amongst the leaves. Most years there are well over three thousand, we have given up trying to pick them all up, and we giggled the other day when we took the dogs for a walk down the lane and realised we were following a trail of walnut shells left by the squirrels. .
I will ask my neighbours if they want to collect some. If not the squirrels will be fed for the winter.
I will never tire of this view.
But one of my lessons has been it’s a view, that’s all. There will be more views.
Rosie
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Very early on in our adventure I wrote about our wonderful neighbours. I have written about them often since, about their kindness, of how they welcomed us into this community, in fact only these past three weeks Marc helped Rich complete our barn roof. But that is for another post, a simplistic, factual post. This post is about heartbreak and emotions.
Over the years we have all called out to each other Bisoux (kisses), when we see them. It was all started by the fun loving Nadia and infected everyone. We would wave as she drove past, and it was a joy to watch her and Marc together.
We had our BBQ on Saturday the 29th of August, all of our wonderful friends and neighbours together, with them all saying how sad they were that we were leaving, and how they would miss us. My friend Nadia not least, confirming over and over again that she was ‘tres triste.’ I promised her Carrot Cake from Jersey.
I got back on Tuesday. Rich said that she had been off work this week, very unlike her. So today I took over her Carrot Cake, and noticed her best friend, and our friend too, carrying bags of stuff out of the house. Then I saw Nadia, she was bereft. She told me that she and Marc had split up, and I saw in her eyes the pain that I had felt many years ago. I hugged her close, so close, as she sobbed into my shoulder.
I said to her ‘Je navez pas les mots.’ I don’t have the words. What do you say to someone with a broken heart? We all know that there is nothing that will heal that pain, only time.
And so, even before we leave life in our little hamlet has changed, as life does. We hugged her goodbye, but I will stay in touch with her, she is a friend who has shown me kindness so often, and I will miss seeing her come home, and calling out ‘Bisoux.’ As will RD.
Times they are a changing. Life can be so hard sometimes. I feel so sad.
Autumn has never enthralled me more than since moving here. I have written about it So often.
Autumn is a time for letting go, and no more so than this year.
So last Sunday, before I returned to work for what I thought was going to be a long stint, I realised that when I returned home in October the evenings would be dark, and the opportunity to sit in my garden on these warm autumn evenings would be passed; that this would be the final weekend evening ever when I could savour my garden as she began her preparation to move from summer to autumn. Because all things are changing.
It has been incredibly warm here for September, with the temperature in the early thirties most days, so as the sun went down RD and I decided to take a walk around our garden, and savour what we have, at times, taken for granted.
Off we went up the chemin (ooh matron!) that divides our main garden from our field behind our barn, as the sun started to set. Needless to say the Welshies were with us, excited that mummy and daddy were walking around the garden with them, as if they wanted to show us all the things we might miss. Like the crab apples, and Cobb nuts, crunching beneath our feet.
And not put off by Welshies at all decided to join us on our walk. She is fondly known as ‘cat Dog’.
Up she came behind us, stalking the serial killer known as Wiglet (she is a Bond villain after all!) not put off my Wiglet’s penchant for killing small things, because Daisy is a bit of an oompa loompa!
As we walked on to the field behind our barn, with its newly repaired roof (the boy done good) the sun set reflected onto the old building, built in 1812, it shimmered in the sunlight, as if knowing that yet again it was being left behind. That building must have so many stories to tell. We are going to become part of it’s history now.
As we stood taking in the sunset RD reminded me of the fabulous view from just over the horizon of the field behind us. In five years I had still not walked down to see it. I will make a note to do that when I get home.
I looked at all my beautiful animals, and was reminded of just how much they love us.
I savoured the sunshine, and thought of all those beautiful creatures who we have lost in the last five years, poignant memories, the kind that make you smile with tears in your eyes. Autumn reminded me, as always, of the things we take for granted.
I realised then that I rarely show you the view from this side of our garden, or the sun setting from this angle. So time to share this walk with you, with all who have followed this adventure with me. From the fields surrounding us, to the old statuesque oaks, standing so tall in our garden. They will give someone else shelter next year.
I miss my home….
Rosie
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So a few days ago our lovely immoblier contacted us to say that it may not be possible to convert our barn into a dwelling. We had never advertised the house in such a way as to imply it could be, but the people who have offered are keen to convert. The implication is that this may affect the sale. But strangely I feel very calm. We feel very calm.
As you know RD has been working on our house and I have not actively sought work for him this year (it is difficult enough but add Covid to the mix and it is virtually impossible.) However over the past two weeks he has been contacted direct re working for people in the area. Not least at one of the most beautiful places he has ever been asked to work.
We visited with trepidation but our fears were quickly allayed because the people are very nice. There is no agenda, just really nice people. He also has other work lined up from previous clients so now it is raising questions about our way forward.
Now as you all know we believe that life shows us the way, and the fact that so many people had contacted RD we decided that if he worked it would enable him to employ someone to help him with our barn roof now that his good friend has returned to the UK for good. (A poignant time when he said goodbye, as change so often is.)
We also believe that when life sends you such a strong message you really do have to listen. So for the first time in a long time RD is working very locally for lovely people in a fairytale setting. But it does now put pressure on us re the move as I am still working in another country and due to the wonderful Covid I have to spend six days of my time without pay and away from home, whilst I isolate. Is this best for us?
Something to consider, given the messages we are being sent.
So back to the house sale. We had an offer on our house within ten days of it going on line, with a whole influx of emails from people who wanted to view it. In fact still want to view it, even though it is under offer. We know that the location of this house is second to none. It is down a two kilometre lane, that finishes where our house is. No through traffic, in a national park, with as you know stunning views. No amount of money put into a house can change it’s location. So when asked if we would agree to wait until the people find out if they can convert the barn, we declined. We cannot live in limbo, packing everything away ‘just in case’ and then find that they are going to pull out, and we have to start all over again.
We know that this house and it’s location is worth every penny, so if they decide that the conversion of the barn (which can never be fully guaranteed until you go through a long process) is a deal breaker it will be back on the market. Tout suite.
Another thing we have learned: Our Worth!
Rosie
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When I first came home I said to RD how we live in this house rent free. We have stuck to our learnings about not getting any debt for windows, or cesspits, or anything that we don’t have the money to pay for. There have been times on this adventure that we have thought ‘Thank God we didn’t get any debt!’
There were times we were tempted. The French Government has a scheme for new windows and doors where you can obtain loans at a very low interest rate. But they are still loans, and they still tie you and trap you and stop you having options for the future. We stuck to our guns and so we live in this house, that is fully paid for, rent free.
But the housing market across the world has been affected by the pandemic and the valuations came in at less than we hoped. We wouldn’t lose any of our initial outlay, but we would not recoup what we have paid for water, and a new roof, new doors, new gates, and a soon to be new barn roof.
But we also know that we live in the Parc Normandie, and have rolling hills in front of us and countryside surrounding us. We also live on a dead end road, no through traffic just quiet, with neighbours near enough to support us, but far enough to have our space. We know what this house offers so it will work out, the things we have money cannot buy, and they cannot be added.
But we were pragmatic and thought well if we moved to Ireland we would have to rent and pay out money we don’t pay out now. I now have a job, let’s just enjoy France for a year and see where life takes us. We have a lot to do before it goes up for sale next month.
However there is another way to look at it. There is no work here for RD, and there will be some work in Ireland, mainly based on the fact that he speaks the language. Let’s put it this way: There won’t be any less! If RD earns the money that the rent would cost then we won’t be any worse off than we are now. Mmmmmmm a dilemma.
So we have decided to put the house up for sale, let life show us the way, and when it does we will make the decision on when to move.
We’re not stressed. We know that what will be will be.
Rosie
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Nearly five years ago I started this blog. We had lived in France for just three months. I was full of enthusiasm about taking a chance, in fact I started this blog to encourage others. And although I am now going to put things into place to leave France, I still feel that life is an adventure; and for me, or should I say us, staying still and doing the same ‘ol, same ‘ol is not the way forward.
I have often written about my Tree of Tao the huge old fir tree in our garden that has always relaxed and inspired me as it gently swayed in the wind. Recently as we sat under it I found myself looking up through her majestic branches as they went with the flow of the breeze, and felt a little poignancy that we will be leaving this place.
As we tend to do we got chatting about changing direction, and I asked RD if he had ever regretted the move. His resounding answer was no, as was mine; and we both said the same: ‘Because we have learned so much.’
If someone had told my five years ago that it didn’t matter if your roof had blown off, because at some point you would be able to fix it, that you just had to trust that what you needed would come your way at the right time, I would have laughed at them, or thought them mad. We would have got into debt and got the roof fixed. But during our time here we have read and embraced many philosophies of the Tao Te Ching, and not having debt is one of them.
We did not get into debt, we lived with a leaking roof for over three years, and we are still alive, and it got fixed.
In the same vein when our well ran dry two years after arriving we lived without water for eleven days, and again for four days in the winter until we were able to have mains water connected to our house. Yet here we are, still alive, with memories of showering each other with a watering can (not easy when your husband is over six feet and you have to stand on a ladder!) and laughing as we did it. As a result of all of this we don’t waste water, and we don’t fear things going wrong, it doesn’t kill you, but it does make you stronger.
We say to each now, there is no point in stressing over it, what will be will be.
As we sat under that old tree, talking about all the things we have learnt, lessons we can take with us, we laughed about all the things that had happened, because we are stronger because of them. We realised that we are more patient than we ever were before, we don’t have to have everything now, and often say to ourselves ‘Do I really need that?’
The answer is invariably ‘No’.
But more than anything RD and I have learned that we are not ‘doing the driving.’ And we have learned acceptance, even though we often have to remind ourselves of that.
We know that ultimately what is meant to happen will happen and there is no point fighting it. In fact our ‘Faith’ often brings tears to our eyes, because we know that is the biggest gift that has been given to us, and I don’t mean any religion, just ‘faith.’
We have learned that where there is good there is bad, and where there is bad there is good. That life is a balance, you cannot have one without the other. I do believe that attitude of mind can bring you good or bad depending on your mindset.
We have each other, we have lived in this fabulous place, we have seen hares and deer and breath-taking sunrises and awe inspiring sunsets. But to have that we have also had a hurricane, and a tornado, and freezing nights.
We have struggled with money and work, and people, but we have always had each other, and we know that is a gift.
We have had the gift of love from our animals, we were given Wiglet, but we lost our lovely Tillybet. We looked after Sophie the feral cat, and the joy of seeing her change was balanced by the tears when she died. We had twenty years with our green eyed cat Molly, balanced by the heartache when she left us at the beginning of the year. Understanding that balance has helped us so many times. We know we cannot have it all.
During our time here as well as the ‘Tao’, we have read The Alchemist’, and we are still reading the fabulous Mark Nepo (The Book of Awakenings.) It never ceases to amaze us when we open that book at a difficult time that the passage we come to read gives us the answer to our problem.
For me, my most recent learning has been to ‘let go’. Or I thought it was until I realised that I had let go once before, when we sold our beautiful house in the UK and look at what it gave me. This time it was a reminder, let go and you know good things will come.
Rosie
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I am still in Jersey. It has been nearly eight weeks now, and I cannot begin to tell you how much I want to go home.
My work had assisted in finding a little cargo boat, that I have taken to calling Boaty McBoatface, to take me home last Wednesday.
I duly completed the paperwork for travel during this pandemic and sent it off. The French immigration came back asking for proof that I lived in France. I duly sent four bills, and my tax returns from last year and the not yet completed (because I am stuck here!) Tax forms for this year. I could have opened a bank account with the amount of documentation I sent! But the good old French immigration department waited until the day I was due to travel to say that because I had mistakenly ticked a box on the form that didn’t apply to me (the other two boxes applied: I was returning to my home address, I was travelling across France to get to my home address) they had refused my application.
I have lived in France long enough to know that because the restrictions are being lifted on Monday they don’t want to do the paperwork. The only problem is if I leave it until Monday I will be cutting it fine to get the boat on Wednesday. As the old regulations apply I have filled in the form again and done it now. I am placed with fantastic people, but I am desperate to go home, and they understand that.
I am not going to lie, there were a lot of tears on Wednesday, as I had to open my case and get some clothes back out.
Add to that in the afternoon I fell over a concrete block, and I fell hard. I actually counted my blessings that at fifty-seven I didn’t break my hip, arm or leg. I guess having some weight on me helped, but I think mainly it was all the years I taught aerobics. (Mental note: I must resume exercising!) On Wednesday I felt very sorry for myself. But the lovely lady I am with told me to have a hot bath, and boy did it help. I didn’t realise how much I was in shock.
I came over with only early spring clothes to wear. Summer is almost here so luckily the garden centre (which has beautiful Italian clothes) had a 50% sale, due the pandemic. Five dresses, five tops, three pairs of trousers and four pairs of shoes later, I have consoled myself with some retail therapy. (It’s been a long time coming!)
But it doesn’t make up for being with RD, who is finding it hard, or my beautiful furries.
They are all missing their mummy, and, boy, am I missing them.
But being me, I have pulled myself back together, but I am going to ask all my readers to send some positive thoughts that I get home next week, because they would really be appreciated.
I however am going to break with my normal approach of thinking well and just this once I am hoping that bumptious official in immigration has a shitty bank holiday weekend!
Namaste!
Rosie
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