Despite wet, drippy, somewhat chilly weather, we slog on.
Arcadio continues to recuperate and is now blessedly ignoring the huge wad of bandage and metal brace attached to his left upper leg – for the first week or so he tore at it endlessly, shredding the gauze and tape. Now, thank the Lord, he has apparently accepted it as an extension of his body and seems determined to resume daily forays into the wild without regard to this handicap. He is due back at his surgeon in about ten days and we sincerely hope the contraption can be removed.
We were jolted this week by the news from Italy that Francesco’s father has suffered what may be a major stroke and has been confined to a hospital bed in Perugia for the past few days. Francesco and his siblings are rallying admirably to a very difficult situation; no one yet knows the extent of disability or exactly what the future may bring. But it is comforting to be in touch with his sisters and brothers.
Meanwhile, around La Placette Haute projects advance:
Today Jez completed, on schedule, the chestnut flooring on the upper floor of house #2, just in time to begin his well-deserved Christmas break that will see him, Sally, and his two girls travel to England. Upon parting, he surprised us with the gift of one of his handcrafted salad bowls, this one in American oak. (If any of you out there seek a wonderfully unique gift idea, contact us about Jez’s bowls. They are superb.)
Our plumber Olivier has been working (still) to revive our furnace and has installed what we think looks like a Jules Verne-style control panel fitting for the Nautilus – also handcrafted in copper and brass. It is in what I call the ‘petite grange’ that Francesco insists on calling the ‘chaudiere’. (I declare, along with Gertrude Stein, that ‘a rose is a rose is a rose’ – whatever you call it - and my wording means ‘little barn’ while his means ‘boiler room’.) Whatever the name of the place, we are hoping that Olivier’s darned creation actually will work – the intent being to divert heated water to both houses, or one or the other, at the flip of a switch. We can’t wait, as it is getting cold.
The two electricians, whom we term the ‘rock & rollers’ because they tote along a portable radio that constantly blares current French versions of ‘bubble gum music’, have been all week diligently installing electrical outlets and switches throughout the second house. Fortunately they seem to understand what to do with the masses of multi-colored wires that have been protruding, Medusa-like, from countless little holes. At some point, we imagine, the workers will (magically) endow the place with electric power that has been, up to now, provided only through a temporary circuit box.
Another positive improvement has been the reconstruction, also this week, of the top of the retaining wall that forms the southern rampart between our two houses. Our masons, Jean-Luc and his brother-in-law, have been toiling to cap the wall, formerly a rather crumbling and forlorn structure, with a new row of stones set in sand-colored concrete. This is a project we had hoped to complete back in the spring or, at the latest, during the summer. Then we dreamt of it in autumn.
Can it really be December?
This comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDelete