Storm Austen, or was it storm Boelo?

Yesterday, we drove back to the Netherlands from France in the midst of a gale which seems to have been christened either Austen or Boelo – I can never keep up.

We'd been in France for almost three weeks during which time the weather changed from golden and almost summery (apart from the chilly nights) to stormy and cold. The weeks passed so quickly I can hardly remember what we did other than stacking wood (Koos did most of that), cutting the grass (which I did in a tee-shirt because it was so warm), and re-finishing the bedroom wall in CCMk2, which involved some iffy plaster work from yours truly cleverly disguised by what is called 'renovatiebehang', which is special wallpaper designed to cover up sins like mine. We then painted it and the rest of the wall and I must say it looks a whole heap better than it did before. Sadly, I didn't record this achievement so you'll have to take my word for it.

Koos also started the 'cellar staircase renovation' project. The cellar, or 'cave' as it's known in France, is still a bit of a mess – full of tree stumps of logs that are too big to go in the wood-burning stove. It's also ankle deep in sawdust, and I assume this is because it used to be where wood was cut. However, quite a lot of the dust might be the result of woodworm, which has been merrily eating away the staircase into the cellar. It has clearly been neglected over the years and I couldn't help noticing a distinctly spongy feel to the steps as we descended to the dusty depths.

Worried that one of us would go a step too far and put a foot through the treads, Koos decided to take action. At home in the Netherlands, he bought 20 pieces of angle iron cut to the width of the stairs (two per tread) and ten new pre-sawn 18mm-thick triplex treads. We took half of everything down with us; we had to leave the other five at home due to space and weight limitations in the car. Koos then set about strengthening every other step with angle iron front and back and a new tread on top, after first spraying the old ones thoroughly with woodwom killer. He's done five so far, but I already feel safer going down to the dungeon below. It no longer feels as if the next time will be the last, if you get my drift!

Other than pushing each of these projects forward a little futher, we have been out for a few drives, spent some time in beautiful Joinville (see previous post), enjoyed some lovely walks in woodland away from La Chasse (the hunt, which started while we were there) and visited daughter #2, which is always a treat as the work she's done on her own house is phenomenal.  

By last Wednesday, though, the weather was already changing and since then, it has been pretty dismal, so on Sunday morning it was no suprise that the rain was lashing down and the wind was blowing its cheeks out with extra force. 💨💨 

Still, we'd decided we had to leave (I had an appointment to keep with a chimney sweep in the CCMk1), and Sunday is the day when there are virtually no trucks on the road.

Luckily, I could see from the radar images we were likely to drive out of the rain before long. By the way, who knew those radar pictures were just models? Not me 🙄. I thought they were real depictions of the weather systems... ho hum. Anyway, on Sunday, they were pretty accurate and by the time we reached Saint Dizier on our route home, the rain had stopped, the skies cleared and all we had to contend with was the wind. I won't say more about that except it was very, I repeat, very strong, and it made driving quite taxing as it blew into us broadside on, straight from the west as we drove north.

We made it back home in record time, though, so perhaps in some ways it helped; it certainly increased my own determination to just get there. So, Austen, or Boelo, or whatever your name is, thank you! But you can go away now. My garden looks like the furies have been through it and our poor Hennie H seems to have collected the debris from an entire forest. Please just give us time to clear up a bit before you send your siblings along...

Here are just a few photos of our village in the days before we left. In the last two, the clouds can be seen gathering.

If you click on this photo, you will see the cables over the road
as they should be and not as broken lines.

Have a lovely week allemaal, and I'll be back with news and views from the flatlands next week.

 

Pictures of Haute-Marne, France

As you may have guessed from the title, we are in France at the CCMkII (Crumbly Cottage Mark II, the CCMkI being in the Netherlands, for anyone not familiar with my chaotic life). In principle, life at CCII is much the same as it is at home. It's just that we have no boats here, (much to my regret) which should mean I have less to do, but somehow it doesn't work that way. 

What is a blessing is that we have internet, so I can still keep up with work; we also have plenty of DIY jobs as the house is, well, yes, crumbly, and what we do has to be done in the short spells we are here. But that's okay. There's no goal and we're not aiming to be in the Home and Garden magazines for the best restoration job. There's just Koos and me, two old crumblies ourselves, so we do what we can and enjoy being in France and among French people. 

What can I say about our sojourn here this time? Well, the autumn has been stunning until the last two days. Even this last Friday, it was 25ºC in the afternoon. The nights have been chilly, though, but in general it has been so like a South African Winter I've loved every minute of it. The photos below are a collection of snapshots I've taken of our environs in the area and also of that little gem of a town, Joinville, of which I have become so fond.

Vouécourt, where we had coffee and ice cream after DIY 
shopping in Chaumont

Ah, okay, excuse the dog spam. A photo of Zoe had to creep in somewhere!

Zoe with Koos 

Back to business, the next few photos were taken at Luzy-sur-Marne, a delightful village just south of Chaumont. I regret not taking photos in the village itself, but I was a bit smitten with its river frontage.

The footbridge or passerelle over the canal; a bit rusty
but a fine structure

The road bridge over the same canal. This one lifts.

And then to Joinville. These photos are some I took of a walk around town I did with Zoe one morning when I was there. I discovered some gorgeous little alleys and tiny streets that could be drawn straight from a medieval novel. The electricity cables and the cars give it away, of course, but I love the fact the cables are on the outside of the houses and in some cases cross the streets overhead. We would never see anything so old-fashioned in the Netherlands, a land where everything can be buried in sand.

Earlier that same day, I'd climbed to the top of the hill against which Joinville is built. It's the site of the old castle, which crowned the hilltop from the 11th to the 17th century when it was (and I'm scandalised by this) sold to a stonemason who gradually dismantled and sold off the stone. I know the view from the top is amazing, but not the morning I scaled its exceptionally steep slopes. The next two photos show all that could be seen from the former chateau's position; the clouds hung low over the town and everything was completely obscured. 

Up in the clouds with just a few rays of sunshine
penetrating the gloom

Looking straight out from the top of the 'Chateau en haut'

Then, the image below is what I saw when I climbed down into town again; the skies were clear and it was a glorious day. No sign of the foge that had been enveloping me just minutes before.

Back at the CC again, we had a busy day when our delivery of winter fuel arrived for the wood-burning stove. At home in the Netherlands, we can order quantities of wood from one to several cubic metres, but here, the supplier told Koos the minimum was five cubic metres. This is what it looked like in the lane next to the CC where he tipped it out. In fact, this doesn't really give the full impression because the heap went back quite some way. Koos and I looked at each other in shock. 

 

The lane is a public road and although not used very often we knew we couldn't leave the wood there. We spent the next two hours (or maybe three?) re-locating it over the wall into the lean-to we'd spent even more hours clearing of rubbish last year. 

This is what it looked like when we'd finished. Not too bad for a morning's work by two old crumblies :)

Since then, Koos has nobly been rearranging it and stacking it neatly in the French style. I must say his patience puts me to shame. I have conveniently found other jobs to do which, naturally, couldn't wait.

And what of the canal? It's still almost empty and the VNF are still working on the locks near us. There are boats at the halte nautique in Froncles that haven't been able to move this summer and will probably be stuck there until next year. And it's not just our stretch. The photo below is of the canal at Luzy-sur-Marne which is roughly fifty kilometres from us. Perhaps it will be full again one day. We can but hope! The weather has turned today, so I doubt if anyone is fretting to be on board except me. 

Have a good week allemaal, and if you want a giggle, take a look at this old post of mine. I discovered it today and was weeping with laughter over the student howlers my colleagues and I collated. If the autumn chills are getting to you, their well-meant errors are guaranteed to put a smile on your face.
 

Five days four countries

If you don't live in the country of your birth, and where all your family live, you tend to miss out on important events, such as weddings and other landmark occasions. In 2022, I missed the first of my sister's daughters' weddings due to Covid restrictions; in 2024, another of her daughters got married, but we also missed that for other reasons. So when the date for last of the three girls' weddings was announced as Friday 2 October, 2026, I knew I had to go, as did Jodie, my own daughter 1.

In our planning, several months in advance, we decided we would drive over, originally intending to stay the night near the venue and to take our time driving back. A lovely break, we decided. No rush, of course!

That all changed when Jodie was offered an opportunity to exhibit her art at a special event in the Netherlands on Saturday, the 3rd. The leisurely aspect of the journey suddenly vanished and we had a deadline to meet. We had to be back home by 2 o'clock on Saturday afternoon to give Jodie time to be ready for her slot at the exhibition. There was also the issue of collecting her dog, Lucy who was spending the night with daughter 2. Mo was going to be leaving for France the next day, so postponing the collection was not an option.

The drive to the wedding went very smoothly. We left home at 2.30 in the morning so as to arrive at Calais in time to check in and board the 6.15 Shuttle train. The trip from Folkestone to the West Country also went well and we took a route I well remember from my youth, the A303 from Basingstoke on, which goes right past Stonehenge. 

Well, that was such a thrill. I haven't seen our most famous pile of old rocks since I was in my early twenties and there they were. I can hardly believe I managed to snatch a photo through the car window and not have any people in the frame.

The rest of the journey was also glorious, the English countryside at its lovely best in the sunshine, and all the more beautiful the further west we went.

We reached the wedding venue an hour before time, which gave us the chance to change into our fancy finery. I almost blew it by tumbling down a step in the cottage where we were changing as I fumbled to find a light switch, but luckily no harm was done and I was rescued by one of my nieces and her friends;  sometimes, being a senior auntie has its benefits! 😉

The wedding itself was delightful. The service was conducted outside and was both informal and perfect, even when my niece admitted she'd lost her vow and had to adlib. It was just so her and she was so happy as she skipped down the aisle; her joy was infectious.

After the service, we had the chance to catch up with my family at the reception. Being with my eldest brother, his wife and their son and daughter was wonderful as I haven't seen them in years, and, of course, spending time with my sister and hers is always special. I don't see my family all too often so I value the occasions I can be with them immensely.

Jodie and I left as the party was still in full swing at around 9.30 that night, hoping to have an easy drive to Newbury where we'd booked a motorway services hotel room for the night. But this was when life became a tad more interesting than we'd bargained for. 

Heading into Bristol, we'd planned to take the M5 and then the M4 motorways heading east. The first glitch was when, without warning, the M5 eastern on-ramp was closed, so we had to go west to the next junction before we could go east again. Then, a section of the M4 was closed and we were sent on a magical mystery adventure through country lanes before we could get back onto the motorway again. By this time, poor Jodie (who did all the driving) was mentally clenching her teeth (or maybe physically too), especially as we knew we had to be at the hotel before midnight. Luckily, we made it and all was well as we eventually fell into bed.

We were back on the road again at 6.30 the next morning and had an easy drive through to Folkestone. But then life went pear-shaped again. Remember that art exhibition and the deadline? Well, all the tunnel trains were delayed and we were an hour late leaving. The trouble was there was virtually no information about what had caused the delays and how long they would be. What made it worse was that I was desperate to go to the loo but dithering as to whether I should make a run for it and risk missing the starting gun. In the end, I did do the dash (the alternative would not have been pleasant) and it was fine, but the result of the delay was that we were only back home in the Netherlands again after 3pm. 

I'd already offered to go and fetch Jodie's pooch, so I left her to prepare for her show, gathered up Zoe and jumped in my car to drive north for a rendez-vous to meet Mo with Lucy dog. Meeting accomplished, it all worked out and I was back home again early evening. However, on Tuesday morning, we were off again as Koos and I left home to drive down to France for a spell at the Crumbly Cottage Mk2.

Now, having covered four countries in such a short time, I am in recovery position, i.e. taking it easy, wondering what I should be doing and meandering around vaguely with a feather duster to remove all the cobwebs that have accumulated since August – while I figure out what's important and what can wait. The weather has changed from sunny and chilly to grey and cold, but that's alright as we have a delivery of firewood tomorrow. We can finally start accepting we are nearly halfway through October, and summer is really over; maybe it's time for the woollies to come out at last.

As for the canal we were hoping would be open for faring by now, it is almost completely empty. Not water shortages – no, they have drained it for repairs. Why waterways staff couldn't have done those in the summer months when the canals were closed for lack of rain, I don't know. I suppose they were on holiday then. This is France, after all. But still, the scenery is beautiful, isn't it? 

Have a wonderful weekend allemaal and I'll fill you in on the latest from the Haute-Marne soon. And for anyone who's wondering, we are a very long way from any riots and unrest.