This Time Tomorrow

Nicolas cleaning the pool with mr. clean

Bienvenue and welcome back to Musée Musings, your idiosyncratic guide to Paris and art. Except this week. Because I’m in the Dordogne. Again. To oversee the opening of the swimming pool and the emptying of the fosses septique (septic tanks); the mowing of the lawn (Fig 1) and the emptying of the farmhouse. The first three items were completely unexpected since they had all been done recently. When I objected, the agence immobilier (real estate agent) insisted upon inserting them into the compromis de vente (agreement terms between buyer and seller). That document was signed almost two months ago. It should have been signed three months ago. But the buyers kept canceling our rendezvous to sign it at the Notaire. For the first canceled meeting, I had the lawn mowed and the shrubs pruned. For nothing. For the second canceled meeting, it was too late to change my train and car reservations. So I showed up. For nothing. The third rendezvous, for which the buyers finally did show up, I attended by Zoom. And I learned that in addition to all the other things the real estate agent insisted that I have done (which I will not enumerate here, that list is too long, too boring) and for a house that is being sold ‘en etat’ (in present condition), I had to take care of the above listed items, too.

Figure 1. My friend trying to get a handle on the grass in early May

Having lost all confidence in both the real estate agent and the buyers, I insisted that the Notaire insert a clause requiring the buyers to transfer full payment for the property into the Notaire’s account 8 days before the final sale. I didn’t want to learn on the day of the sale that the buyers had reneged. I especially wanted to avoid opening the pool (which has to be maintained) and emptying the house (which I might need to rent again) if the buyers were going to postpone or even cancel the sale.

Why is the sale in two parts? Because in the countryside, a final sale cannot happen until 2 months and 1 day after the first document is signed. That’s because in rural areas, the mairie (mayor) has the first right of refusal. The right to purchase any property that’s for sale. But perversely not until someone else wants to purchase it. The mayor will not buy this property but the formality must be observed.

I am a very conscientious person. The Boy Scout motto, Always Be Prepared, is my motto. This time, I decided that the best preparation would be to schedule everything for the last minute, no more than 8 days before the final sale.

An email from the notaire confirmed that the buyers had transferred the funds for the purchase into his bank account. So, I’m here, with Nicolas, who hadn’t expected a holiday in Paris to include the final cleaning of a property he has known since he was an infant. I did make one concession. I rented an automatic car, which is what Nicolas knows how to drive and which I’ve been afraid to try to try. What to do with my left foot. What to do with my right hand. What to do instead of changing the gears. So, he’s been doing the driving and he’s a natural, like his father. (Fig 2)

Figure 2. Nicolas behind the wheel in our rental Citroen

The past few and next few days have been and will continue to be charged and challenging. The man whose home was around the corner, who took care of the swimming pool and mowed the lawn for nearly 25 years, isn’t here anymore. He lived in the house in which he was born and in which he grew up. Where he brought his wife and where he raised his family. But when his wife was diagnosed with Alzheimers and had to be placed in a maison de retrait (aka a ‘memory center’), he sold his house and moved away. He hasn’t been back, he tells me that it’s too painful.

The man I found last year to mow the lawn just had a hernia operation, so he's not available. My friend’s husband who mowed the lawn once, is currently on holiday in Canada. Those guys, like my old neighbor, all have tractors and whatever else you need to mow large swaths of grass. But they are recreational gardeners, not ‘professional’ ones. The man I finally found to do the job is a gardener (with a SIRET number - an official business identification number.) not just a guy with a tractor. And of course, anything official is much more expensive. But I had no choice. (Fig 3)

Figure 3. The Gardener getting it done

The pool company that has opened the pool for the past five years or so - I found them after my plumber, who took care of the pool for nearly 20 years, retired and moved to Spain - was scheduled to come yesterday between 14h00 - 18h00. The man scheduled to vider (empty) the fosses septique (septic tanks) was also scheduled to come yesterday, between 14h00 - 18h00. And the gardener had only one day available, yep yesterday.

Nicolas and I drove over from the pigeonnier, stopping first at the Thursday morning marché to pick up a poulet roti (roast chicken) and some paella. From the woman who makes it while you (impatiently) wait. Usually I buy it from her on Sundays, at the market in Issigeac. But I didn’t expect that we would be able to get away for lunch after the action started, so I wanted to be prepared. The gardener was already there. It has rained so much for so many months, that the grass was much higher than it normally would have been. And it was so heavy and so wet, that it was much harder to mow. The pool guys arrived an hour early. But since it rained intermittently all afternoon, everything happened at a snail’s pace, with lots of running back to trucks and vans to wait out the deluge. They got the pool started and (hopefully) showed Nicolas how to maintain it (motor backwash, electric robot) for the next few days. Until the house is no longer my responsibility. The fosse guy couldn’t find the septic tanks. Well, he found one of them but we couldn’t find the other one. Thank goodness the gardener was there - he drove around on his tractor until he found it.

Guy, the man who owns the brocante and who has been selling my chairs, tables, benches, objets, bibelots, etc. arrived at 4:00 p.m. And while we were talking about all the things he hadn’t been able to sell,(Figs 4, 5, 6) the menuisier (carpenter) arrived to finish the repair on the ceiling where there had been a leak in March because the roof tiles had moved during a violent orage (thunderstorm). And to park in such a way that nobody else could get in or out. (Fig 7)

Figure 4. Some of the things I’m trying to sell - decorative pans, green glassware and antique coffee mill

Figure 5. One of 8 Alvar Aalto tables for sale posing in front of the Atelier

Figure 6. An Alvar Aalto table getting ready for its new home (a local architect bought 2)

Figure 7. Carpenter’s Van blocking everyone else - the gardener, the pool guys, the fosse guy, Nicolas, too.

As for Guy, I already knew what he hadn’t sold because much of it is still at Rousset. Hopefully, he’ll have room in his shop for some stuff for tourists and locals who drop in this summer. I have already gifted a few things and a few things I’ve taken to my little pigeonnier. For the rest, Des, an English handy-man who I met this year, came over today to see how much stuff there is for the decheterie (dump). He’ll come back tomorrow, with his remorque (trailer) to haul it away. Since he’s a handy man, he also had a look at the swimming pool and offered his opinion.

The next few days will be just as full - I have to go to France Telecom to drop off the WiFi box and cancel my contract. We have to keep the pool going. We have to clean the 8 bedrooms, 2 kitchens, 2 dining rooms, 1 salon and 1 artists’ studio. Nothing idyllic about this visit to la France profonde.

All of this to explain why I won’t be telling you about my week in Berlin until next week. In the meantime, a Comment I received last week prompted me to reread the post that the reader commented upon. Giovanni Boldini: The Master of Swish I enjoyed it (she says modestly) I hope you will, too.

Gros bisous, Dr. B.

taking a break at french MacDo

McFlurry my McFavorite

Thanks so much for your comments, they are much, much appreciated.

New comment on Brancusi is Breathtaking at the Centre Pompidou :

Dear Dr. B - Thank you for the wonderful tour of the Brancusi exhibit. I would SO love to be able to see it myself. I've been to his studio outside the Centre Pompidou several times. In the early days of its existence there, I was allowed to go in and photograph everything; I was a Stanford graduate student writing a dissertation on Picasso and had various student ID's. Unfortunately, the 2 times I took a grandchild to Paris, it was closed for one reason or another. Last year, however, my grandson did get to see Giacometti’s studio at the Institut. Thank you again for your "musings."
Mary-Margaret Goggin, Ph.D.

Thanks for this, I confess I haven't been yet and your article makes me know I have to see it! Elizabeth, Paris

I saw the show (a mob scene) and it was your review that rescued it for me! A really helpful review. and well written. Julia, Vallauris, Paris  

New comment on From Pogroms to Promised Land:

Brilliant and illuminating read! What a time to be alive!! Such incredible talent that still informs us and always will. Ross Greenberg