The house is quiet these days. No builders. No jackhammers. No appointments. Just Cherie, me and our dog Saxon. Waiting out the Covid-19 pandemic in our tower of solitude. Like many, if not most of you, the steady rumble of activity which once marked the passing of each day has come to a rather abrupt halt.
France has been in lockdown since the 17th of March. And it’s been a considerable change. Fougères is not normally a town that’s frantic with activity, but the streets are now nearly deserted throughout the day. We’re allowed to go out to buy groceries, go to the pharmacy, take one hour of exercise per day (providing it’s solitary and no further than one kilometer from home), or to take our dog for a walk to use one of his many favorite toilette spots around town. Spoiled for choice, really. We’re fortunate in that we have a small grocery store and two boulangeries within a couple of blocks walk from our house, along with a boucherie (butcher) and a poissonnerie (fishmonger). They are allowed to remain open so that everyone can still obtain food, wine, cheese, toilet paper, medicine, and – of paramount importance – their daily baguette. Even in the face of a national crisis, the French keep their priorities straight.
The deadly seriousness of current events has ironically been belied by the absolutely glorious weather we’ve been having during this period. It just goes to show that Nature couldn’t give a damn about whatever ills humans are suffering. And rightly so. Since when have we, as a species, ever really given a damn about Nature? At least Nature isn’t intentionally hostile to us. I wish I could say the same about humanity. From our windows in the tower, we can watch the park’s resident team of goats, bees and chickens go about their business. I haven’t actually asked them, but I get the feeling that they are quite enjoying the respite from human activity. Like most of the other parks, the Parc du Nançon below us has been closed as part of the lockdown. As a consequence, the park’s domestic animals and wildlife have had the space to themselves. It’s probably just the intensified quiet, but we swear that the birds are singing more spiritedly and more often. And the squirrels are much more visible. No humans. No dogs. Air pollution levels have dropped considerably since the lockdown too. What a blissful vacation the park’s flora and fauna are having!
If all you watch is YouTube, you get the feeling that everyone who has been under lockdown is already beginning to go a little stir crazy. People are bored and resorting to watching a steadily degrading selection of Netflix series or performing increasingly stupid human tricks. But we still have a huge amount of work to do on our new house. So boredom hasn’t yet taken hold. Except, perhaps, for Saxon. He is pining for the parks and greenways and he doesn’t understand why we can’t take him for long walks. So, yeah, the dog’s a little bored.
Construction work on our house has ground to a complete halt. Technically, the lockdown rules allow builders to continue to work if they are able to maintain social distancing. However, they can’t really obtain the materials they need to keep busy. Most of their suppliers have shut down operations. So, in effect, the lockdown has halted nearly all building activity. But the list of small projects which Cherie and I can accomplish is long and we’ve continued to steadily tick them off. Our guest bedroom is now 95% complete after we posed the last wallpaper panel and finished the trim and paint for the en suite bathroom door. The radiator is still a hideous green banana color and there is a small section of baseboard which I need to make; but other than that, we have our first nearly-complete room.
Our beautiful new door handles have been fitted to our bathroom doors. I know it doesn’t sound like much. How hard can that be? Bloody difficult, I can tell you. But only because I very unwisely chose to purchase british door handles and locks. You see, the hostility which the British and French have felt for each other for hundreds of years has been at a low ebb over the last century. But it still exists. And this cultural antipathy manifests itself in thousands of little ways. Frustratingly, one of these ways it makes itself felt is in door hardware. To my dismay, I discovered that british handles and locks do not match up with french doors and frames. Which is to say, the english male bits don’t fit in to the french female bits. While this metaphor has been overcome thousands of times in cross-Channel conjugal relations (as the many resulting french/english children attest), it remains an insurmountable obstacle when it comes to door hardware. As a result, I spent a ridiculous amount of time reconfiguring our french doors and doorframes so that they would accept our new british door handles. What a pain! But they are now both in place and looking rather spiffy. Brass on the outside and polished nickel on the inside. Now we can enter the closed borders of our guest bathroom without hindrance and Brexit when we’re done.
Mind you, the house is still a disaster area. Boxes, furniture, construction materials and dust everywhere. But our kitchen is in a working state. Even though there is still a considerable amount of decorative finishing which needs doing. Our evenings are spent in this room watching Netflix or YourTube, with dinner plates in our laps and tea served on our little terrace table-to-be. We’ve managed to cobble together two dining chairs into a sort of loveseat with a sheet over it to protect from all of the dust. Reasonably comfortable, but a pale comparison to a proper couch. A few months ago we bought a big, beautiful new television. It’s still in the box. Sigh! But, PERSPECTIVE, as I always say. Tragically, there are millions of human beings living in terrible, horrible conditions around the globe. And this pandemic has thrown many millions into economic distress, not to mention the thousands of deaths resulting from Covid-19. How’s that for a little perspective? Our petty complaints are nothing in comparison. Cherie is quite good at remembering that. Thankfully, she is also persistent in reminding her all-too-fallible husband that we are very fortunate indeed.
Currently, we’re engaged in a standoff with a stone wall. We’re determined to reveal the stone wall in the place which we have dubbed the Rampart Passage, an area which will serve as a laundry room/way out to our terrace on top of the old town rampart to the east of the tower. To our advantage, there is two of us and only one – stone wall. And we have tools. Apart from being, well, stone, the wall also has the advantage of being covered with multiple layers of concrete and paint. Lots of paint. Hmnn … I can see what you’re thinking: the odds don’t look good for a happy outcome in this scenario. At least not one in the immediate future. And you’d be correct if it weren’t for two secret weapons at our disposal. The first weapon is an over-sized vat of paint stripper. While we’re generally loathe to use chemicals when we can avoid it, this is war. And we intend to win it. The Geneva Convention doesn’t apply in this case. So chemicals it is. The second weapon at our disposal is our stubbornness. Yes, forget your cleverness, your intelligence, your ingenuity, your hordes of skilled workers with years of specialized training. There’s nothing that sheer, ignorant obstinacy can’t accomplish. And we have plenty of that. So, look out, stone wall! An idiot armed with an oversized brush, a bucket of hazardous chemicals, and the utter inability to comprehend when he’s beaten is coming your way. Let the games begin!
As always, we’ll keep you updated on developments. We hope that when the the worst of this crisis is over and things begin to return to some kind of normalcy, the builders will return and we’ll have more dramatic changes to report. And we’re also hoping to get out to do more sightseeing. We really enjoy it and we’re happy to share our travels with you. To all of you reading this – hang in there, stay safe and healthy, and stay occupied in whatever way makes you happy. Cherie and I wish good health to you and your loved ones. We’ll all get through this Covid-19 crisis together. As always, stay in touch and please share your comments. We really enjoy reading them. See you soon!
Others feel like they’re done with relationships. “I don’t feel like I want to move on to another man,” says Benilda. “I’m done with that. Maybe because I feel too old? Maybe I carry too much guilt? Or maybe because I just can’t find a way to file my feelings away.”
Love the new life updates but miss you TONS! Can’t wait to stay in the guest bedroom, I am liking the hideous green banana color too! xoxoxoxo
Love hearing news from you in far off France; and yet close in heart! Keep the faith – and the news coming!
Glad you are keeping busy my friend.
Great job on infiltrating some British hardware into your French manse.
Knowing you, that wall doesn’t have a chance.
Glad you guys are alive and well. As one of experience, sometimes just plain mule-headed stubbornness is the answer. Stomp that wall.