Blog Posts

WWII and KITCHENETTE

2/7/2016

Above is a detail of a photo taken of Lonlay l'Abbaye just after WW II. The big arrow is pointing at our house on the square. So we know the basic structure survived the war. But after our full demolition, our builder Jim was laughing yesterday that the inside looks as if it was hit by a bomb! (See Demolition pictures on the Before and After section of this website).

Well, after probably more than a hundred years, no doubt it needs a refresh inside in 2016. (You can see the bigger postwar photo of the whole village on the History of Lonlay L'Abbaye page of this website).

Jim has created a new plan for the main floor of the house that sounds very promising. Instead of many layers of stone and screed, building up a solid floor, we will be going back to something more akin to a suspended wooden floor over airspace, which is how we found the floor originally. Only this time, it will be insulated as well. More on that later, but in the meanwhile, I've been diverting myself by thinking about the kitchen.

So here is our "bombed out" kitchen, suitably displayed in black & white. It's a small room, and still will be, even if we build the new living room wall a bit further out. Maybe 8 square meters. I'd like to have white cabinets, with our basic appliances beneath, and room near the front door for at least a small table. I'm not much of a cook, but we need to be able to prepare some decent meals here, especially on all those holidays when the surrounding restaurants will be closed.

Because the kitchen is so small, I was thinking it might be suitably fitted out like the "kitchenettes" or "coin cuisines" (corner kitchens) of tiny Paris apartments. We have seen some ingenious combinations that allow for most of the essentials in a very small space. In fact, some are entirely self-contained, with connections to the electrics and plumbing.

One company that makes very enticing self-contained "kitchenettes" is the Culshaw Company in Lancashire, UK. As these are custom-made, they are rather expensive, but very handsome. They come with a built-in sink, stovetop and mini fridge. I'm tempted, but will need to have a bit more space than that provided by the "Fearnley Petite Kitchenette." Love the functionality, however, and the look. This is definitely the style of kitchen we would like, only with lighter marble and a stove for roasting. http://www.culshaw.co/kitchenettes.html

Would love to hear your suggestions for our (eventual) tiny kitchen. Thanks!

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demolition

1/23/2016

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They say it has to get worse before it gets better. Of course, the floors were basically all rotten, with the exception of the hardwood beams. So now we don't have any more floors!

Upstairs cupboard with floor below still intact. Door to bedroom on your left.

Cupboard with midlevel floor, bedroom wall and door removed. You can see down to the living room floor rubble!

Our builders discovered that the midlevel floor had been built over - essentially a new floor had been put over the old one. They had to remove two levels of flooring to get to the original beams. Before this midlevel will be rebuilt, Jim will pass plasterboard up for the new walls in the bedroom and attic. Otherwise, it would be difficult to get the larger pieces up there, as the stairway is quite narrow and twisty, and the upstairs windows are high off the ground. Glad he is thinking ahead!

Another "before" picture, showing the floor of the small study, dividing wall and door to the bedroom.

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the underfloor

1/17/2016

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Above is the living room on the day I first saw it. Below is what it looks like now, denuded of its crumbling wooden floor and the joists that were laid under it. It was all in very poor condition and unsalvageable due mainly to moisture, which then made it attractive to certain wood-boring insects who had done damage as well. Part of the problem was those vinyl plastic tiles that had been laid over the old wood floors, probably in the 1960s or 1970s, and would have trapped moisture underneath. All the bad wood has been taken away and burned now, and the remaining wood upstairs has been treated to repel future hungry insects. An important issue now is how to rebuild the base of the ground floor.

There is not much depth below the hearth to the dirt floor. The floor is overlaid with broken slate and cement that originally had the joists crossing it, with the ends of the joists stuck into hollows of the granite walls. The trick now is to update the underfloor with materials that will allow for better insulation than the old ways, but at the same time allow gradual evaporation through the floor of water vapors from underneath, which can then dry out in the heated air of the main living quarters rather than deteriorate the floors and walls with damp.

So much of this is contrary to what we expect in modern buildings. In more modern construction (anytime post 1920 in the main), one wants to waterproof the underfloor completely with plastic and cement, and keep the interior completely insulated and heated. Old houses like this one however, with thick stone walls, need to be able to "breathe," letting water vapor escape through porous materials like lime in the bottom floor and walls. Otherwise, moisture will creep around the waterproofing and cement below and go up into the stone walls, where it will encourage fungus and other deterioration.

After several discussions with our builders about these issues and many hours spent studying UK and French websites about conservation and restoration methods for old stone houses, I finally found a website that seems to explain all of this fairly well (in French). "Maisons Paysannes de France" is a website dedicated to helping owners and builders understand how many of the older houses were built, and how they can be sympathetically updated to improve their functionality without jeopardizing the stone or columbage they were built with. http://www.maisons-paysannes.org/maisons-paysannes-de-france/bienvenue/ and http://www.maisons-paysannes.org/restaurer-et-construire/fiches-conseils/ (the latter providing specific advice about insulating an old structure for better heat retention without damaging it).

I highly recommend it to any of you who are thinking of renovating a place built before the early 20th century, or who just are interested in architecture and engineering. Those of you who are more clever with Google Translate than I am may even find a way to get most of it into English. I've tried, but the builders' terms don't translate very well. For example, the layer of stone that goes down first on the compacted earth is known as the "hérisson," a term of art. The literal meaning of hérisson is "hedgehog" though, so if you go by Google Translate, it will be telling you to lay down a layer of hedgehogs before you do anything else.

So far, we are talking about trying to build an underfloor like the one above (diagram from Maisons Paysannes). We are still looking into the best materials for each layer, all of which I would like to make as "green" as possible without sacrificing stability. Jim will advise us further in coming days, and I'll post some translations soon too, so we will all know our hedgehogs from our lambourdes!

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au revoir, wee beasties

1/10/2016

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Warning for the squeamish: lots of bugs about in this blog entry!

Deathwatch Beetle

Edgar Allan Poe

The deathwatch beetle is a fascinating insect whose larvae eat and bore through wood. The adults also live inside the wood for some time (often years!) and make a noise hitting their heads against the wood that sounds like a tapping noise. Those sitting vigil at a deathbed have heard these sounds in old buildings and considered them to be like the ticking away of the last minutes of the sick person's life. The deathwatch beetle's distinctive sound is said to have perhaps been the inspiration for Edgar Allan Poe's "Tell-Tale Heart" story, wherein a murderer thinks he hears the beating of his victim's heart under the floorboards. You can hear its distinctive sound here:
http://www.arkive.org/death-watch-beetle/xestobium-rufovillosum/video-09a.html

Before we bought our house in Lonlay l'Abbaye, it had been used only periodically as a secondary residence, was a bit neglected, and subject to some moisture problems. Unfortunately, these are ideal conditions for insects like the deathwatch beetle to attack the wood. Our timber surveyor found evidence of deathwatch beetle on the ground floor (circular exit holes), and common furniture beetle had attacked most of the timber walls and floors, which all needed to be replaced. The common furniture beetle is not nearly as entertaining as the deathwatch beetle, but it can be even more destructive. It is commonly referred to as "woodworm." Fortunately, our main beams were only lightly affected. They will be fine. But the wood floors were done for, and all had to be torn out and burned.

Common furniture beetle

Like a condominium with different residents on each floor, we seemingly had had wood-eating insects of all stripes inside our small place: deathwatch beetles under the kitchen floor (tic-toc!), common furniture beetle in the living room and upstairs bedroom floors, and more exotically, capricorn beetles in the attic! The capricorns are famous in France for being destructive pests in old houses, but some variants of the species are protected creatures in parts of Europe.
We did not see any live capricorns, or deathwatch or furniture beetles, but we could see how ruined the woodwork was in November. Our wonderful builders have taken all of the bad wood away now, and treated the beams and remaining unaffected wood for good measure. When all of our renovation is done, we hope to keep the former "condo" residents away by keeping our place warm and dry. We are done with them, no matter how colorful their names or literary lineage!

Capricorn beetle

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Bonne année, bonne santé

1/3/2016

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A fresh new year for us all, full of plans and dreams. Can't wait to see how it all unfolds.

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merry christmas

12/15/2015

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A pause in the process, to let a bit of Christmas magic fly past. Our thanks to Jim and Nicola for taking a moment to appreciate the village decorations and supply us with these pictures. We wish them both a very merry time back visiting their families in England, and wish everyone in Lonlay l'Abbaye and across the rest of the world the peace and joy of the season.

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taxes - des impôts

12/9/2015

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"In this world, nothing can be said to be certain, except death and taxes," Benjamin Franklin said. Certain they may be, but the timing of each can leave something to be desired.

I was perusing a favorite expat blog (https://frenchimmersion.wordpress.com) when mention was made of French taxes being due on December 15. I blushed to remember that some bright young thing at the notaries' office had advised me back in September that I should contact the tax authorities to set up automatic payment of our yearly taxes on our newly purchased maison. But here we were, already in December, and I had done nothing!

I scrambled to get information on the tax office in Domfront and sent off a poorly worded missive begging for forgiveness and information at the same time. I received an informative response almost immediately. As it turns out, we are not to pay our 2016 taxes until next year, when we will be advised of the taxi foncière and tax d'habitation that we must pay around the anniversary of the purchase of the property.

The tax foncière is the main property tax (very reasonable by U.S. comparisons), and the tax d'habitation is an "occupancy" tax that is to be paid by the owner or other inhabitant. If someone is renting a property, that person pays the tax d'habitation. I vaguely remember that from when we lived in Paris for a year. I'm not sure how much the tax d'habitation will be, but we've been advised that the tax foncière will probably be about 250 euros.

All the splendors of France for that pittance (and for her citizens, free healthcare besides). How do they do it?

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Wattle and Daub

12/5/2015

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Between one kitchen wall and the next house over, the wall is stone, but the back wall of the kitchen (where the covering is pulled away in this photo) is wattle and daub, a very old building material. As this is one of the walls created to separate the original larger corner house into two residences, it makes me curious to know more about when the house was first divided, and exactly when it was first built.

The wattle and daub can be seen behind the old framework and a layer of plaster that lets the wall breathe. Wattle is a loose frame of sticks or woven reeds that is solidified and held in place by the daub, a viscous mixture of mud, cow dung and straw. Delicious!
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wattle_and_daub

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What's next? Builders to the rescue!

12/1/2015

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We are so fortunate to have had a referral from Sharon Evans at Cle France (http://www.clefrance.co.uk) to Nick Turner, a superb property inspector, who, having discovered most of the possibilities and detriments of our house, then referred us to Andrew "Jim" Daniels and his business partner, Nicola Tasker, who renovate properties. Yes, they are all English, and it is a big help to those of us who don't speak fluent French, especially not "builder's French."

Jim has about 12 years of experience in France, and is fully licensed here. Nicola speaks fluent French, loves history, and was already a great comfort to me - communicating via email - as we waited for more than a year for the English courts to sort out the inheritance rights to our property. As days and weeks and months passed, she kept checking in with me, and we would joke about the Dickensian progress of the courts.

Nicola and Jim have their own team of specialists whom they call on for estimates for the work to be done, but Nicola has also reached out to local French artisans. We are pleased that she has found Monsieur Stephane Degrenne, who has agreed to completely replace the house's gutters and drainage below the roof.

The first project for Jim and Nicola is the demolition of the old flooring, walls and ceiling of the tiny house. Pretty much all of it has to go, as the floors have all been worn away by damp and insects. The attic is in the worst shape, but really all the floors and ceilings have to be replaced.

Nicola and Jim have already spent a good deal of time with me in September, and with Joseph and me in November, walking through the little house and giving us the benefit of their good counsel. When we finished our walk through most recently, Jim said, "You'll be amazed when we're done." We do believe that. Demolition has begun in earnest now, and we will soon be making more decisions about the floor plan and new materials. We feel we are in good hands.

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lonlay l'abbaye - touched by the paris attacks

11/21/2015

You think life is relatively easy and predictable. But it is not. The terror attacks on Paris cast a shadow on our simple plans for visiting Lonlay l'Abbaye and Paris, and they affected even the village's commemoration of Armistice Day.

We had gone first to visit Andelys and her boyfriend Matt in Budapest. Had a wonderful week with them there. Then the day before we were to travel together to France, Lufthansa workers announced a strike. We scrambled to get tickets to Paris on SAS. Andelys decided not to join us, as she was too worried about getting back in time for classes on Monday. She was right to worry, but not because of the strike. As all the world knows now, Paris was hit by several terrorist attacks on Friday, November 13, 2015. The city convulsed with pain and fear.

Joseph and I had arrived in Paris the night before, checked into a hotel, had a fine dinner at Au Bougnat, and had gone to bed. We got up at 3:30 a.m. on the 13th to get out to our rental car at the airport and drive to Lonlay l'Abbaye in time for our scheduled appointments with the banker and the mayor in the village. So it was dark when we left Paris that morning, and dark during our hellacious drive out of the Parisian network of suburban autoroutes that wind around each other like the snakes on Medusa's head. We stopped for coffee and some sanity about an hour outside of Paris and waited for the sun to come up.

The rest of our day was pleasant enough as we arrived just in time to reschedule our appointments with everyone in the village and to have a nice lunch at the Relais de l'Abbaye. The Relais is a wonderful surprise, primarily a weekday restaurant that serves a delicious two or three course lunch at very reasonable prices, including wine if you like. The restaurant appears relatively small from the outside, but is a real tardis, opening to several large rooms in back and a lovely small terrace that must be delightful for sitting outside in warmer weather.

We checked into Katie's house for our stay (I see that her house is now for sale on Cle France!). Then we walked through our own little house across the square with Jim and Nicola, the builders, who brought us more information and good ideas. Near the end of the afternoon, we all repaired to the Bar du Moulin at the Place Saint Sauveur, where we also met the mayor for a chat and a drink. Joseph gave him a Hollywood cap, and I gave him some See's chocolates. As when I first met him in September, Mayor Derouét was very warm and welcoming, and spent a long time talking with us about our plans for the house, and his exciting plans for the village. He met our builders, and insisted on buying our drinks. Fortunately, Nicola is fluent in French, so we are confident that good relations will continue throughout the renovation.

Mayor Derouét also invited us to the village's celebration of Remembrance Day on Sunday, the 15th. There was to be a mass at the Abbey for the "anciens combattants" and a small ceremony at the war memorial in the square in front of our house. This was something we wished we could attend, but we had already booked an apartment in Paris for the night of the 15th,and were likely to leave before the ceremonies. On that Friday, the 13th, we were already very tired from having been up so early, so we left and went to bed early. We had no idea of the horrors that transpired in Paris while we slept.

Next morning, the SkyNews channel, CNN and others were all covering the shootings and bombings in Paris the night before. Our emails were full of concern from friends and family who wanted to be sure that we were not in Paris. We were still in a state of near disbelief as we walked down the hill to sign some documents at the bank. Monsieur Bergue, the banker, and his assistant were very friendly and efficient, as always, and we spoke of the Paris events only briefly, as if we had all just had the same bad dream.

Joseph and I spent much of Saturday glued to the English television channels, trying to sort out this tragedy. We had planned on returning to Paris early on Sunday morning, but there was talk of road blockades and a state of emergency. Sue Griffin, who keeps Katie's house in order, stopped by with her husband to tell us that we were welcome to stay a few more days if we wanted to, as they had no other immediate guests in the week following us. We were grateful to hear that, and emailed Katie to tell her that we would like to stay through Sunday night.

Knowing that Lonlay l'Abbaye and the surrounding villages' stores would be closed on Sunday and Monday, we went to the store for provisions in Domfront, and notified friends and family that we were ok, and not in Paris. Afterward, we joined a few of the villagers at the bar. The mood was somber because of the attacks, even a bit angry, but was gradually lightened by the good company of the friendly locals, and a dog who entertained us by sitting at the bar and eating cheese puffs.

Next morning, we went to the mass and to the village ceremony. The Paris attacks had altered both the priest's homily and the mayor's presentation. Both were very moving and real, and we were especially touched by Mayor Derouét's remarks. As the daughter of an American soldier who served in France in World War II, the whole of the ceremony had special meaning for me, as did the plaque at the Lonlay l'Abbaye war memorial that specifically honors a group of American aviators who lost their lives liberating France. With the recent tragedy of Paris just hours behind us, I think both Joseph and I felt closer than ever to the French, and to the people of this village. We were honoring those who had given their lives - not just in battle, but in this new unending war of terror. A group of children sang the "Marseillaise," and a local military band led us off with trumpet and drums. I was very impressed by the veterans, who wore their medals and stood at attention with such dignity. As with many veterans of war, we have noticed that it can be difficult to tell exactly what age many of them are, as there is a vitality that seems to keep them so young in spirit.

Immediately after, all were invited by the mayor to the "vin d'honneur" at the community room, where there was another presentation of the colors, and Mayor Derouét introduced us to a charming French couple from Versailles, Hedvige and Jeremy, who are planning to buy a home in Lonlay l'Abbaye. As he explained to all of us, the mayor sees his job as being to welcome all to the village. He is clearly very successful at this, as we felt very welcome as Americans, and were flattered that he spent his time with us on such an eventful day. We also enjoyed talking with Hedvige and Jeremy - mostly in English - and meeting Monsieur Durand, who is one of the village's most successful long time residents.

Mayor Christian Derouét at left in center group at presentation of colors.

Following the ceremonies, Joseph and I went off to lunch at Bagnoles de l'Orne (we cannot recommend O Gayot, as it was a disappointing experience), and detoured to see the remarkable "Saucerie," which Joseph insists is demonic.
The marshland around it was given by Eleanor of Acquitaine to a loyal servant, Robert le Saucier, and a manor was built with this entryway in the 12th century. The unusual wooden roofs were added in the late 16th or early 17th century. We were sure we had taken a wrong turn, as the road that leads to this ruin was like a cowpath. Astonishing that it still stands, although a Renaissance manor that accompanied it burned down in 1880.

Back in Lonlay, we walked through our "fixer-upper" house once more to take stock, and prepared to leave the next day. I also took some more pictures of the village. Below are some photos of Joseph in the living room of our house, followed by pictures of Lonlay l'Abbaye: the Mairie and Abbey viewed from the bridge, the pharmacy, a storefront for rent that would make a great toystore, a statue of the Virgin Mary in the corner of the old boulangerie, our house framed by November fruit, and the war memorial highlighting both French and American sacrifice.