The French Renovation

I know. I can hardly bear to continue to write about this longwinded project... But, this is how we've progressed this week. You shall hear it! Kevin built the bottom row of wall at the southerly end of the terrace, and I continued to dig mud from the pool hole and relocate mud to the terrace. Raking has become one of my main occupations; there's something quite soothing about raking, something a bit Japanese-y. The levelling of the pool frame leg slabs has involved so much maths and double-checking, but, eventually, every single slab was perfectly level in its own right, and in relation to all of its brothers and sisters. A temporary centre point had to be installed to ensure total accuracy. Every slab has been carefully concreted in place. Digging and levelling this hole over the past few weeks has had quite an impact on my strength! It's good training for the rock-shifting task that lies in wait for me. And then Sue came! Along with two trailer-loads of s...

Imagine trying to build a wall and dig a hole while being flung around in a mixed colours washing machine cycle. The South West of France is not a warm Dordogne-y paradise; it's Borneo. The orangutans will be moving in soon. The weather over the past two weeks has consisted of wild thunderstorms, heavy rainforest rain, and crippling blasts of furnace heat in between times. It's always humid, so we're always sweaty. And a bit grumpy. And smelly. Despite the unpredictable washing cycle, I've continued to dig the hole for the swimming pool. Sometimes, it's already a swimming pool. I've now reached the ridiculous layer of rock which refuses to budge when hit from above, but falls apart when walloped from the side. My brother's a geologist; he'll tell you all about it. I'm thinking that it's a sedimentary shale affair, but he'd laugh mockingly and punch my arm if he heard that. Where there used to be a little vent into the cellar, Kevin...