Ernest Shepard's illustration for A.A. Milne's poem "Halfway Down"
Halfway down the stairs
Is a stair
Where I sit.
There isn't any
Other stair
Quite like
It.
I'm not at the bottom,
I'm not at the top;
So this is the stair
Where
I always
Stop.
[Fragment of "Halfway Down," a poem by A.A. Milne in When We Were Very Young (1924) E.P. Dutton, p.81.]
Is a stair
Where I sit.
There isn't any
Other stair
Quite like
It.
I'm not at the bottom,
I'm not at the top;
So this is the stair
Where
I always
Stop.
[Fragment of "Halfway Down," a poem by A.A. Milne in When We Were Very Young (1924) E.P. Dutton, p.81.]
Our ancient oak staircase with wattle and daub wall
Our ancient "characterful" staircase ... suitable for sitting and even for a spot of poetry perhaps, but not looking quite as finished as we would like...
Having been away from Lonlay l'Abbaye and our little house "project" for almost two years, thanks to the "gilet jaunes," transit strikes and the pandemic, we walked in to take stock of where we were once we arrived. In memory, and in our store of photos, it seemed to us that so much work had been done - the place was nearly habitable. Walls up, bathroom done, kitchen in place - check, check, check.
Certainly the charming lady who has been keeping our place clean and who has alerted us to two leaks has done a very good job, working around our storage boxes and filing cabinets, chasing away spiders, cleaning up after the dear swallows who leave their messy mud nests each year, and leaving traps to discourage insects and mice from getting into our storage boxes.
We had hoped to be able to get the place painted and begin to move in some furniture.
Our first walk through upon arrival however, revealed that there was substantially more work to be done before we could even think of moving in to live here, or to have friends visit. Surely we were well more than halfway, but certain areas were discouraging. The main staircase was a glaring reminder that this is a very old house still in need of more rejuvenation.
Having been away from Lonlay l'Abbaye and our little house "project" for almost two years, thanks to the "gilet jaunes," transit strikes and the pandemic, we walked in to take stock of where we were once we arrived. In memory, and in our store of photos, it seemed to us that so much work had been done - the place was nearly habitable. Walls up, bathroom done, kitchen in place - check, check, check.
Certainly the charming lady who has been keeping our place clean and who has alerted us to two leaks has done a very good job, working around our storage boxes and filing cabinets, chasing away spiders, cleaning up after the dear swallows who leave their messy mud nests each year, and leaving traps to discourage insects and mice from getting into our storage boxes.
We had hoped to be able to get the place painted and begin to move in some furniture.
Our first walk through upon arrival however, revealed that there was substantially more work to be done before we could even think of moving in to live here, or to have friends visit. Surely we were well more than halfway, but certain areas were discouraging. The main staircase was a glaring reminder that this is a very old house still in need of more rejuvenation.
To begin with, we looked at the stairs from the ground floor to the first level. Fairly steep and narrow, the stairs are ancient but strong solid oak. The surrounding walls however, are mostly wattle and daub, old panelling, and peeling paint. So the staircase surrounds desperately need a refresh - new wallboard and/or plaster all the way up.
Staircase wall - more wattle and daub - and wood?
Curve of the stairs - old panelling and paper
Last few quirky steps
Most disturbing are the last few steps to the upstairs level. The penultimate step is only a small half-step that does not hold your whole foot. Then you have to step up higher to the next level with no handrail or newell post, as the old handrail disappears into a corner of wallboard at that point. A person could easily lose their balance here, especially if they have had a glass too full, (not that that would ever apply to us ;-)
Going down these stairs from the first level is also precarious for the first step or two, due to the half-step, no handrail on the right, and no handrail on the left until you have already gone past the unsafe step.
So we are getting bids from two sets of builders to make all of these necessary staircase repairs (and a few others noted below) before painting can commence. Also getting bids for painting the whole interior of the house. And, until the painting is done, bringing in furniture will only complicate matters, so that too has to wait.
So we are getting bids from two sets of builders to make all of these necessary staircase repairs (and a few others noted below) before painting can commence. Also getting bids for painting the whole interior of the house. And, until the painting is done, bringing in furniture will only complicate matters, so that too has to wait.
Exposed undercarriage of old attic stairs
Standing at the top of said stairs, there is also the unsightly undercarriage of what may be part of our existing stairs to the attic, or perhaps part of a staircase that once linked to one of the adjacent townhouses. These old stone homes have been carved up in somewhat peculiar ways.
I think that the wallboard that previously covered this undercarriage had to be removed to allow for new electric wiring, as did some of the wallboard on the staircase wall, but now it is time to close up again, refinish and move on.
I think that the wallboard that previously covered this undercarriage had to be removed to allow for new electric wiring, as did some of the wallboard on the staircase wall, but now it is time to close up again, refinish and move on.
Window at the landing/study area with new heater. Opening to attic stairs on the right.
Turning immediately to your right once you have gotten to the first level, there is a window here at what we call the landing/study area. The doorway to the attic stairs is on the right again.
The attic stairs have got to be repaired, as they look rather precarious, and we do want to be able to use the attic space now that we have a floor in there again. There are wallboards already up in the attic waiting to finish the space off, but that is another project for later.
For now, we need to have functional stairs going up there, and a new door built for the entrance to the attic stairs. The old door was taken off its hinges at some point, but was rather shabby, and seems to have disappeared in any event.
The attic stairs have got to be repaired, as they look rather precarious, and we do want to be able to use the attic space now that we have a floor in there again. There are wallboards already up in the attic waiting to finish the space off, but that is another project for later.
For now, we need to have functional stairs going up there, and a new door built for the entrance to the attic stairs. The old door was taken off its hinges at some point, but was rather shabby, and seems to have disappeared in any event.
Throwback to 2016
This throwback photo from November 2016 shows the unfinished first floor at the landing/study area with stacked wallboards. You can see the opening to the attic stairs on the left, my ungraceful climb to the top of the stairs, and the gaping hole on the right that is now our bathroom.
Small storage space at ground level under the stairs
A peek inside the "cave"
Back to the present day...
Under the stairs on the ground level is a small Harry Potter-sized storage spot that we grandly call the "cave" (French pronunciation: roughly "kaahv" or "kaaaahhv-uh" if you want to sound more snooty!). A French "cave" is a wine cellar or storage space, usually unheated, and therefore suitable for holding wine.
Over the years, this space has become a catchall, or "débarras" for cleaning supplies and leftover building materials. It seems neatly bricked and dry when empty. We'd like to clear it out, reorganize it, and have a door made for it. Maybe there will be room for some wine!
Under the stairs on the ground level is a small Harry Potter-sized storage spot that we grandly call the "cave" (French pronunciation: roughly "kaahv" or "kaaaahhv-uh" if you want to sound more snooty!). A French "cave" is a wine cellar or storage space, usually unheated, and therefore suitable for holding wine.
Over the years, this space has become a catchall, or "débarras" for cleaning supplies and leftover building materials. It seems neatly bricked and dry when empty. We'd like to clear it out, reorganize it, and have a door made for it. Maybe there will be room for some wine!
Electric box and circuit breakers on the wall above the "door of doom" - water valve access - down below.
Water valve access and "cavity" inside the "door of doom"
Another space that we would like to see addressed is the one I call the "Door of Doom." On the same wall that houses our electric meter (behind a door) is a lower door that opens into an unfinished space. In it, there is an open cavity to the dirt floor with electrical wires running close by the main water valve.
The space is accessorized with some floating insulation, crumbling granite, soil, spiders and God knows what else might live down there in the crawl space under the house. Putting your hand in to turn on the water is like reaching into a tomb. So we have asked our builders for some ideas to block off some of the open cavity here, but leaving the valve cleanly accessible.
The space is accessorized with some floating insulation, crumbling granite, soil, spiders and God knows what else might live down there in the crawl space under the house. Putting your hand in to turn on the water is like reaching into a tomb. So we have asked our builders for some ideas to block off some of the open cavity here, but leaving the valve cleanly accessible.
Wide angle - bedroom windows
And finally, the windows....For years I resisted the advice of several builders who said the wooden windows on the house would have to be replaced. I could not bear losing them, with their clear panes that had seen so much history, and their antique hardware (see blog archives - 15 February, 2016). But after yet another expert evaluation, I have had to reluctantly conclude that they have to be replaced, just as our doors had to be replaced.
We are determined that they will be remade exactly as before, however, in oak with traditional hardware. This will be quite an expense, but as with the rest of the renovation, it is also for continuity, for history, and for what we hope will be the next hundred years of life for this tiny old house in this charming village.
We are determined that they will be remade exactly as before, however, in oak with traditional hardware. This will be quite an expense, but as with the rest of the renovation, it is also for continuity, for history, and for what we hope will be the next hundred years of life for this tiny old house in this charming village.
Our village house - September 2021
Looking forward to our next visit very soon!
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