Tag Archives: Closerie Falaiseau

Accommodation, Architecture, Blois, Closerie Falaiseau, Renovation

A Laundry in a French House No Less! #1

April 14, 2014 Rosemary Kneipp 15 Comments

We’ve set aside two weeks to make a laundry at Closerie Falaiseau. Like most French houses, it doesn’t have one. I’ve talked about this before. In fact, Jean Michel has already drilled a 10 cm diameter hole through a 70 cm wall to evacuate the water from the washing machine in the downstairs bathroom into the drain and not the shower!

The walls of our half-timbered tower would have originally been made of wattle and daub.

So far, we’ve been using the little house as a laundry but it’s not very practical for the cleaners when they are washing and drying two full sets of sheets and towels, including bathrobes, for the next gîte guests.

We have a small room at the end of the workshop that seems perfect. There is a door that leads directly into the far end of the workshop from the gîte bedroom with its en-suite bathroom (with the first washing machine).

The ceiling is wattle and daub which is a traditional way of constructing walls and ceilings in which vertical /horizontalwooden stakes, or wattles, are woven with horizontal/vertical twigs and branches, and then daubed with clay or mud. Ours is probably about 400 years old. At present, most of it is propped up with two large storage cupboards.

We dismantle the cupboards, which are large and heavy, and cart them off to the little house. Jean Michel then attacks the ceiling and starts letting out ominous sounds through his face mask. As he uses a poker affair to pull down the rotten bits of clay, he discovers that parts of some of the beams are rotten as well.

This requires an extra step not included in the initial programme. First treatment with a product called Crésyl, based on cresol, which probably poisons the user as much as any lurking insects and spiders. It smells foul in any case.

Spraying with limewash after putting up the beams

After that, the original beams are painted with limewash before adding secondary beams to support the ceiling. The wattle and daub is then sprayed with limewash, which is a much more environment-friendly product altogether. It should all last another 20 or 30 years, which is all we need anyway.

Preparing the floor panels for the ceiling

Jean Michel then puts up a ceiling made of thick particle-board floor panels. He can’t use normal plasterboard ceiling panels because they are not strong enough to hold up any falling mud and daub.

Large hole to be filled with stones balanced on top of each other and wedged into place

I then don my throwaway overall (though I can’t find my cap) and take over the ceiling by painting it, first a primer, then a second coat. I also use filler to plug up any holes in the wall, particularly a couple of very large ones (about 10 cm in diameter) that seem to come from a previous attempt to drill holes in the wall.

I learn the technique of balancing stones on each other until the hole is filled vertically in order stop the render coming out. Jean Michel neglected to inform me of this step so I’ve already had to redo one of the holes. Trial and error is the best teacher, he tells me. I prefer not to waste time personally.

Jean Michel using the percussion drill – we’re both wearing earplugs

Meanwhile, Jean Michel starts drilling the first 8 cm diameter hole to evacuate air from the clothes dryer. The second serious problem kicks in. As he uses the percussion drill on a different wall from the one in the bathroom, the clay and stones inside the wall start collapsing from the vibration. This wall is obviously of inferior quality.

Some of the stones that are supposed to be inside the wall

He then discovers that for some reason, there is a beam between the wall and the concrete floor slab that is rotten as well. The plaster wall starts breaking up. Another visit to Brico Depot proves necessary to buy thin bricks to hold up the plaster and replace the beam. He spends a lot of uncomfortable time half-lying on the floor.

The plaster wall after filling with bricks and plastering

By then, we are well into the second week and decide to extend our stay by a third week, having our tea break in the garden and feeling sorry that we can’t be out on our bikes using the weather to better advantage and, in particular, seeing all the tulips in Château de Cheverny.

I’m sure you can’t wait for the next episode!

Architecture, Blois, Closerie Falaiseau, Flowers & gardens, Loire Valley

The House of Happiness

April 8, 2014 Rosemary Kneipp 13 Comments

There is a beautiful lilac bush just across the road from our house in a large vacant lot followed by meadowland that goes down to the Loire. Our rainwater flows into the vacant lot so Jean Michel keeps the area free of brambles and nettles. He has also cleared a parking space next to it. The lilac bush is on the left.

The lilac bush from our bedroom window when we get up in the morning

The weather is lovely and we’re having our tea in the garden, making the most of the spring flowers. Jean Michel suddenly gets up and says, “More people cutting the lilac”. He opens the gate, sees an elderly lady and a young man and says “Hello. I would really appreciate it if you could cut the lilac from the back of the bush and not the front. That way, everyone can appreciate it.”

The lady looks surprised. “Ah”, she says, “but figurez-vous (which means something like believe it or not), the lilac was planted by my father. I used to live in this house”. “Well”, we say, “that’s quite different”. “Won’t you come in”, I add, trying not to seem too excited, “I have lots of questions to ask you”.

The lady is loquacious, to say the least, while her 30-year old son is more reserved. She explains how the garden and the house were divided into two. There was a stone wall separating the garden starting at the drain pipe on the left of the last door on the right and ending where my planters are now. She and her parents and six siblings lived in the left half.

The wall ended on the right of the photo where you can see the two planters

Downstairs, the room corresponding to the archway on the left was a combined living room and kitchen with a bathroom behind and the boys’ bedroom was on the right. I learn, to my disappointment, that the stone sink and bench, which I thought were original features of the house, were added by the people who began restoring the house before our previous owners bought it.

Stone seat and sink that I thought were original!

Upstairs, where she loved to sit and read, were the other bedrooms. Her father was a bricklayer and had a large vegetable garden in the vacant alotment across the road. She tells us that she had the most wonderful parents imaginable, that the house was always full of people and that at Christmas, they had parties where everyone sang and danced until 6 o’clock in the morning.

“I call it la Maison du bonheur (the house of happiness)”, she says. She now lives in a flat in Blois, overlooking the Loire, “because”, she explains, “I love the Loire almost as much as this house. There used to be a sandy beach on the edge of the river and we used to love going there to play and sunbake.”

The little house that the parents moved into after their children grew up

But the children grew up and married and the house was too big for her parents so they moved to the little house next door. Her son explains that his grandparents used to look after him during the day and he went to the school down the road, which is now closed. Now in his early thirties, he confesses that it has always been his dream to buy the house one day.

The school in our street which is now closed

Their nostaglia is palpable. The little old lady talks non-stop and is obviously delighted to be able to share her memories with us and not at all interested in seeing the inside of the house which she doesn’t recognise. She is obviously disorientated so we go outside again. In response to something she says, I ask her how old she is. She looks a little surprised and replies 64.

I try not to look as shocked as I feel. I would have said she was 80! I think about it later and I finally come to the conclusion that her nostalgia for the past has prevented her from entering the modern world. She looks the age her mother would have had.

The little old lady in front of the lilac bush

Jean Michel takes his secateurs and cuts her a huge bouquet of lilac from behind the bush this time. She promises to come back again at the end of the year after we’ve moved here for good to show us her old black and white photos of the inside of the house. We promise in the meantime to make the most of our House of Happiness.

Blois, Closerie Falaiseau, Flowers & gardens, Uncategorized

Photos of the week – Spring Flowers

March 30, 2014 Rosemary Kneipp Leave a comment

It’s now officially spring and we’re back in Blois for another couple of weeks. We couldn’t get over the difference in how many leaves have appeared on the trees in such a short time. The tulips are out as well so a visit to Château de Cheverny is scheduled for this week to see the 60,000 tulips planted every year. In the meantime, here are my favourites at Closerie Falaiseau and the view from upstairs.

Closerie Falaiseau, Flowers & gardens, Loire Valley

Photos of the Week – a Cubby House on the Loire

March 8, 2014 Rosemary Kneipp 3 Comments

This photo was taken at the bottom of our front steps. The shadow is cast by our Pierre Ronsard climbing rose which is just starting sprout new leaves after being severely pruned in winter. — This photo was taken at the bottom of our front steps at Closerie Falaiseau. The shadow is cast by our Pierre Ronsard climbing rose which is just starting sprout new leaves after being severely pruned in winter.

Closerie Falaiseau, Loire Valley

Photos of the week – Through my window in Blois

December 15, 2013 Rosemary Kneipp 2 Comments

We’ve been having lovely weather in Blois – very cold, with minus temperatures at night and sometimes throughout the morning followed by bright sun and blue skies. The view from my office window is unfortunately marred by those horrible cables. They’re supposed to go underground in a couple of years’ time.

For more photos of Blois, you can visit my photo site Blois Daily Photo.

Closerie Falaiseau, Lifestyle, Loire Valley

Moving from Paris to the Loire

November 14, 2013 Rosemary Kneipp 13 Comments

At 20, I lived in Townsville on the north-east coast of Australia and dreamed of living in France. When I arrived here for good at 22, I spent a week in Paris then went to an assistant teaching post in a town called Pau in the south-west of France which has a population of 100,000, very similiar to that of Townsville, because I wanted to be close to Spain to improve my Spanish.

View of the Pyrenees from the Boulevard des Pyrénées in Pau

The next year I was posted to Nantes, on the tip of Brittany and the Loire Valley, which had a population of 400,000. My next move, a year later, was to Fontenay sous Bois in the eastern suburbs of Paris. I stayed there for nearly twenty years, after which I moved into the very centre of Paris 8 years ago, just near the Louvre.

A view from our balcony in the centre of Paris

This time next year, I’ll be living full time in Blois because Jean Michel is retiring on 10th October and we will have to vacate our apartment in the Palais Royal because it is part of his job. There is no way we can afford to buy or rent similar accommodation. While I was still teaching part-time at university (ESIT), we thought we’d find something in the Yvelines to the west of Paris so I could commute once a week.

Typical view of the Loire River with its many sandbanks

Then I decided to stop teaching after fifteen years and go back to freelance translation full time which changed our options entirely. After friends bought a house in Amboise we started looking at possibilities in the Loire Valley and fell in love with Closerie Falaiseau in Blois, a full three years before retirement – it was the very first house we visited.

The house itself is much bigger than we intended to buy and has several other buildings – two barns, an old pigsty, a workshop, a wood shelter and a smaller house which we originally thought we’d turn into a gîte for holiday rental. For various reasons, one of the barns will now become the gîte.

The pigsty which now houses the rubbish bins

In the meantime, we have turned the bottom part into a gîte for two people so that the house won’t be left empty for long periods and we can finance conversion of the barn which is currently only four walls and a roof. The gîte has been doing well and we’ve had excellent reviews. We’ve also met some wonderful people.

So for the past two years, we’ve been psychologically making the move from the centre of Paris to a small provincial town of 50,000 people.

Will we be bored ? That is the question. Judging from our time in Blois so far, I don’t think so although the longest we have stayed at a time is two weeks even if I came here by myself very often last winter while our balcony in Paris was being refurbished. This winter, with no one staying in the gîte, we’ll be coming down one or two weeks a month and for the whole of March before the next rental season begins.

Front steps in June when the roses are in full bloom

As I get older, my interests have changed considerably. I used to go to every exhibition that was on. We often went to the theatre and cinema and out to dinner with friends. Now we focus a lot more on holidays and rarely go to exhibitions. Many of our friends are retiring and moving away from Paris as well.

We’ve already made new friends in Blois and in other parts of the Loire through the Loire Connexion. We spend a lot of time cycling when the weather permits, gardening, mushroom picking, taking photos and visiting châteaux and castles – not to mention renovating of course. This year, we’re able to make the most of our Renaissance fireplace that we spent a long time refurbishing last winter.

And we’ll never be far from Paris – it’s only a couple of hours by car and 1 ½ hours by train.

Closerie Falaiseau, Renovation

Rethinking our projects in the Loire

November 7, 2013 Rosemary Kneipp 15 Comments

I was very encouraged by all the sympathetic comments on the post I wrote a couple of weeks ago called War declared by next-door neighbours. Thank you for your support. I have to confess that I have been depressed ever since because it looked like we might have to give up our gîte project altogether. It’s hard enough to change our lifestyle completely – moving from the Palais Royal in the centre of Paris to a 400-year old house in the Loire Valley, where you can’t do anything without a car – without having to rethink our plans for the last two years, even though we really love the house and the area.

However, yesterday, we invited Mr and Mrs Previous Owners for tea and told them all about it. They agreed that we won’t get anywhere by approaching the neighbours – it could just make matters worse.

You can see the chicken coop on the left of the barn at the vegetable garden end

They suggested that we might be able to get the poultry house (or whatever you call it) taken down since it’s built up against the wall of our barn. But that would just leave us open to all sorts of retaliation, I would imagine, particularly with respect to our future guests.

The vegetable patch on the right of the barn

But later, when we were talking about his new vegetable patch, Mr Previous Owner asked Why don’t you use your vegetable patch for the gîte garden? I had suggested this to Jean Michel originally but he said it wasn’t a good idea because the ground is sloping and we forgot all about it.

The half-timbered tower and back of the bread oven taken from the vegetable patch

We talked about it again later and it might well be the solution. The vegetable patch is on the other side of the barn, as you can see in the photo, which means that even though you can still hear the goose from time to time, there wouldn’t be the problem of the smell in summer. We’d put up a wall to make the gîte completely separate from the neighbours.

There would be a few steps up from the back door of the gîte to the garden, but I don’t think that’s a problem, do you?

The side of the barn with the vegetable patch on the left

It would mean that the little house could still be used to provide a two-car garage and we could even have a vegetable patch next to the poultry yard if we still want one.

It’s probably even a better solution than the original one of having the garden in front of the gîte, because guests would have the lovely view of our tower, bread oven and hydrangeas in the summer.

Today, my depression has lifted.

Closerie Falaiseau

War declared by next-door neighbours

October 24, 2013 Rosemary Kneipp 29 Comments

Today I did something I know I am going to regret for the rest of my life.

A little background first. Our house in Blois, Closerie Falaiseau, where we will be moving permanently in October 2014, was built in 1584, just like a similar house on the left (the houses were built by two brothers). Apart from the main house, we have a barn, a former pigsty, an open sheltered area and a workshop on the left, and another barn and a little house, built much more recently in steps and stages, on the right.

The barn next to the pigsty; the little house is on the left

For the moment, we have divided the main house into two, upstairs and downstairs, and we are renting out the bottom part as tourist accommodation until we move. After that, Jean Michel is going to demolish the unattractive half of the little house, leaving the other half to form a double garage. He will then convert the barn behind it into a gîte (vacation rental).

The back of the little house on the right and the barn that will be renovated on the left

On the right of the little house, there are three modern homes, all built along the same lines, on quite large plots of land. Our neighbours are not keen gardeners and the area closest to the little house is rather unkempt. We recently had to ask them to lop part of their weeping willow which is threatening to damage the roof of our barn. There is an old wooden lean-to up against our barn inside their property.

They have a wire fence and a somewhat incongruous, expensive remote-controlled gate that was installed last year.

The first two panels erected between our wall and the neighbour's gate — The first two panels erected between the wall of the little house and the neighbour’s gate

When we arrived last weekend, we were surprised to see that two panels of wood had been erected along the fence on the side near the stone wall of the little house. We initially thought they were going to continue the panels along the entire fence.

The enclosure, with the lean-to on the right which is up against our barn and the house that is going to be pulled down to form a garden for the gîte

But no, the panels were then continued at right angles to the first, ending at the lean-to. Strange. Then next thing we saw a wire fence WITH A GATE on the other side, forming an enclosure, the sort you keep poultry in.

The side panels taken from inside our property where the garden of the future gîte will be — The side panels seen from inside our property where the garden of the future gîte will be. Unfortunately they are higher than the stone wall which will be renovated and continued as far as the barn

Great! A chicken yard, just next to the future garden of the gîte. Noise, smells, etc. Not to mention the eyesore created by the wooden panels. How is this going to affect the popularity of our rental accommdation? We tried to find out more but the workers claimed they didn’t know why they were building the enclosure.

Looking down the street from the neighbour's house towards ours — Looking down the street from the neighbour’s house towards ours

This morning, after phoning the local authorities and being told that there are no regulations about keeping poultry unless there are more than 50 birds, I decided to go and have a look. And lo and behold, the enclosure now contained a goose and a few chickens. The neighbour’s three children were standing watching them.

That is when I committed the fatal error. I took a photo of the poultry. For the blog. As I did so, I heard someone shouting, “What are you doing? You can’t take photos. It’s private property.” The mother marched down to the gate, repeating the same thing.

When she arrived, I explained that we were worried about having the poultry yard next to our future gîte. She said everyone else in the street had poultry yards and it was for the children. I said that I perfectly understood but wondered why it was on our side, when they had such a large property.

It seems the lean-to was originally built for that purpose and that they have had poultry cooped up in there for the last month. They’ve already lost two ducks. Well, they might all just die off, I thought.

Then she started on about the photo again, so I proceeded to take it off my camera. The problem was that I couldn’t really tell her I had taken it for my blog ! She told me that she herself was a very calm person but that her husband had a terrible temper and would be furious if he found out I was taking photos.

She also complained that the dormer window in the barn, which unfortunately for us fronts onto their property, prevents her from walking around in her nightie in the yard. Considering there’s only a wire fence, you’d wonder why that would matter! In any case, I apologised and said I hadn’t intended to offend her in any way.

I then went off to tell Jean Michel about the incredibly stupid thing I’d done. He said it was a pity but I shouldn’t worry. I went back to my planting and suddenly heard shouting. The neighbour’s husband was upraiding Jean Michel over the fence at the back of the house and threatening to go to a lawyer to stop me taking photos.

My heart sank. After he stormed off, I suggested I go and apologize but Jean Michel said I had nothing to apologize for. It wasn’t as though I was on his property or taking photos of his children. I could have kicked myself for being so stupid. “Don’t worry. C’est un caractériel“, he said, which roughly means he’s totally unstable.

But when we came home after shopping in the afternoon, the neighbour had parked his car in one of the two parking areas that Jean Michel has cleared in the vacant lot across the road that is non-constructible because it’s next to the Loire. Warfare has been declared!

Closerie Falaiseau

The Hornets’ Nest

October 15, 2013 Rosemary Kneipp 3 Comments

We’re very worried. Our guests have been telling us about large bees in the kitchen at Closerie Falaiseau that appear to be coming from the inside. When we arrive, the first thing I do is look for the bees. There are several dead insects in the birdbath but I can see instantly that they are not bees or wasps but hornets! Thank goodness no one got stung.

When Jean Michel cleaned the bedroom fireplace when we first bought the Closerie, he discovered an enormous, fortunately empty, hornets’ nest, so he immediately assumes that the hornets must be in the kitchen chimney. Sure enough, we can see a lot of activity around the top of the chimney stack.

The hornets nest that fell out of the chimney stack in the bedroom fireplace

But the fireplace in question is completely closed off with a board at mantle level. We check it thoroughly and can’t see any way the hornets could possibly be getting from the chimney stack into the kitchen. They must be coming through an open door or windows.

We call the fire brigade who explain that early autumn, especially when it’s mild, is a favourite time for hornets. They tell us we should call a company specialising in désinsectisation. We check out the yellow pages and start searching for someone who can come next day at the latest as we have new guests arriving on Saturday.

After calling several numbers, we get a positive response from Mr B. who turns out to have been born and bred in our neighbourhood in Blois, Les Grouets. He says he can come late afternoon the next day. We’re relieved.

He turns up with his van and ladders and starts setting them up. He has a regular alumium telescopic ladder and two wooden ladders to climb across the roof without damaging the slate. He sets up the aluminium ladder then climbs up with one of the wooden ladders in his hand. He places it flat on the roof then puts the second wooden ladder next to it.

After that, he climbs up the first wooden ladder then pulls the second one up so that it is an extension of the first. Now he can get to the chimney. No harness of any sort we notice. He has a look at the chimney and says it has a concrete plug that is somewhat deteriorated and is letting the hornets get in.

Mr B.'s protective overalls — Mr B.’s protective overalls

He climbs down. “Yes, a belt would be good”, he says, and gets one from the front seat of his van. I’m wondering what the belt’s for. Maybe to tie the two ladders together ? He then proceeds to thread it through the loops of his jeans ! “That’s better”, he says. “I have some overalls”, he explains to no one in particular, “with a mask and everything, but once you put them on, you can’t see anything. No much point.”

Mr B. taking his spray cans up the ladder

Armed with four large spray cans (two instant insecticides and two softer environment-friendly ones), he climbs back up the ladder and over to the chimney. He starts spraying the hornets that are clustered around the top. I have to confess it seems very amateurish to me.

Let me know if you see any coming from behind, he says. So, there we are, standing on the ground, watching out for any hornets that might attack him, and when one comes along, he sprays it. It’s a family business, he explains, handed down from father to son, so I suppose he knows what he’s doing. “I like it up here”, he says.

Mr B. climbing up the roof with his spray cans — Mr B. climbing up the roof with his second lot of spray cans

He comes down for more ammunition. Jean Michel sees a hornet rapping on the kitchen window. Since everything is clean for our next guests, I volunteer to go and let it out since I can take my rubber clogs off easily. I walk in and can hear a very loud buzzing noise. It seems to be coming from above me.

“Watch out”, says Jean Michel, sounding very alarmed. “Don’t panic”, says Mr B. And I look down. The floor is covered in writhing hornets. I get a terrible fright and leap out of the way. How on earth did they get in ?

The hole in the corner of the fireplace through which the hornets were passing

It turns out there is a small space between the wall of the fireplace and the board closing off the chimney. That’s where the hornets are getting out ! Mr B uses his environment-friendly spray to finish off the ones on the floor and his potent spray near the hole they are getting through.

I get the broom and sweep them all up. Mr B. climbs up his ladder again to get rid of the last few stragglers. We check there are no more in the kitchen and he packs up his gear, promising to come back again next day if there is any more activity. But his sprays have done the trick and the hornets are gone.

Flowers & gardens, Travel photos

Monday’s Travel Photos – Spring Flowers in France

May 19, 2013 Rosemary Kneipp 11 Comments

Coming from North Queensland, I have remained amorous of spring flowers ever since I saw my first field of buttercups back in 1975 in the south of France. These are photos taken recently in the Blois and when we travelled back from the Basque Coast. I had never seen flax (linen) in bloom and had no idea it was lavendar. I’m amazed in fact at how many spring flowers are lavendar, white and yellow. I’m not sure of all the names – maybe more knowledgeable readers can fill in the gaps.