Plans coming together

I bought my plane ticket today. The next part of this journey will begin May 31 in Boston and I will be on the ground in Toulouse the next day. Finding plane tickets at a reasonable price in June is no easy task these days--airline mergers and high-season travel are making ticket prices soar. Still, I have documents to sign and work to do, so I bit the bullet and put down the credit card number.

I will have 9 days to whip the clocktower into shape and make it mine, returning home on June 10.

House decorating on two continents

The week I take ownership of the Clocktower house I want to hit the ground running and try to get as much redecorating done as possible. It looks like I will be there 8-9 days--not a lot of time. Still, I believe if I do all the legwork up front, and buy as much as can be easily carried or shipped from here, I can do it.

This week, the slipcovers for the sofa and loveseat arrived and also the four fabrics from which Luisa will make pillow covers. I received the two canvas-printed photos I had done at canvasworld.com which turned out beautifully and were shipped with all the hanging hardware--even rubber disks on the bottom corners to keep the prints from slipping around. I have previously used canvaspeople.com, but this other company outperforms them in both price and service.

I have lined up my painter and she's asked me to send her a chip of my color so she can be ready to paint the day after I sign the papers. This is great and buys me an extra day.

So here's what I have on hand to date :

2 slipcovers

4 fabrics for pillows

2 16-by-20 canvas photo prints

Knobs for all the kitchen cabinets and drawers

Still a lot to do, but I am on my way!

The official documents have arrived

I am in Rhode Island and Joe reports from South Carolina that my official package of the signed contract has arrived at the house. So now I am formally "cooling off" for 7 days, during which I can change my mind without any penalty. I don't know if there's anything I am supposed to do to indicate I am prepared to proceed with the sale, or is it just assumed that if I don't send any notes saying "oh, I am so sorry, please forgive me for taking up days of your time while I indulged in a mid-life fantasy, but I have now come to my senses and realized that my crazy whim will wreak irreparable havoc on my life," that the sale will just go through?

I think I will dash off a note to my new best friend Rosalind, who will set me straight and tell me what I must do next, if anything.

Meanwhile, I have now told Carolyn and Patty about the Clocktower Cottage and they both seemed very happy and excited for me. 

41 days till it's mine . . .

So, I am not done with the "cooling off period" yet, but already I am trying to move this buying process along so I can get some work done on the house before Lennox arrives and my summer is full of Bubbie duty.

Yesterday I wrote to Rosalind and asked if I can set the date for the final contract signing for Monday, June 2. She checked with the Notaire and sure enough that's the day the clocktower house will be mine. Yay!  Wow, that's just 6 weeks away. Now I have to get myself organized and get people lined up to get some work quickly done on the house. 

In the past couple of days I have contacted a painter who has given me a rough quote and put aside the first few days of June for my project. Yay! I have found someone to help me move furniture, haul away unwanted items and also hang new light fixtures! Yay again. I have ordered slipcovers from Surefit for the sofa and loveseat. I have ordered fabric to make throw pillows for the couches--Luisa's job. Now, I have to identify the lighting fixtures I want and decide whether I want to paint the existing kitchen chairs, which are perfectly good, or buy the cute red ones I saw in the Maisons du Monde catalog for 360€. Oof!

In that first week of June, I would be absolutely delighted if I could paint the downstairs rooms, remove the unwanted, heavy furniture pieces to add more space, replace the 4 light fixtures I don't like, recover the couches and add the pillows. Then I have to paint the kitchen cabinets--that will be the biggest job. I also have to find a place that makes custom window screens to keep out the mosquitos.

I can do it. I will do it! Countdown begins now. 

How do you get to Carnegie Hall? . . . . Practice!!

Among my many jobs when I take ownership of the Clocktower Cottage is to paint the kitchen cabinets. This is what they look like now:

They are perfectly good, but just too heavy and "serious" for the casual chic look I am attempting with this house. I want them to be an antiqued white, which will look great against a pale blue-green background. I have been collecting supplies and today was the day I decided to see if I have what it takes to paint and glaze the cabinets. I know I am capable of performing all the steps, it's just that I am nervous that my project will turn out amateurish and I will be disappointed.

So, this morning, I cleaned an old window shutter, painted a medium blue, and put on two coats of Sherwin Williams's Extra White, mixed with Webster's Chalk Paint powder, according to their directions. I haven't ever used chalk paint, but it's the hottest thing in painting furniture, etc. so I decided to give it a try. I have nothing to compare it to, but the paint mixture covered nicely in two coats and dried completely in about an hour.

Next, I got out the Fiddes wax and tried to find a suitable cloth for applying it. Nothing felt quite right until I hit my sock drawer and took out an old pair of white cotton socks. I used one sock for applying the wax and the other for buffing the finish (with one sock over each hand like mittens). Reading about the process made me a little nervous, but once I got going I realized it's done exactly like waxing a car--thank goodness Joe has asked me to help out with that task over the years--I had the hang of it in an instant! Putting on the clear wax is a cinch! It's the dark wax that gives the antique look that is a little tricky to control. I put too much on the first section of shutter, then adjusted my MO for the second piece--alternating between clear wax and a dab of dark, then buffing the two of them together. In places where I felt I had been too heavy-handed with the dark wax, I put some clear on a cloth and rubbed over the dark till I liked the results.

In a couple of hours the shutter was done and it approximates what my cabinets will look like. I got out the cordless drill and put in two holes where cabinet knobs would go, then I added some of my "bling" to see if I was happy with my choices.

Here's my "cabinet" against a similar blue background with the bling. It really gives me a good feel for my Clocktower Cottage project.

Cooling off

The process of buying property in France is really very civilized and all the components seem to make sense. Unlike in Italy, where there was money given "in the black" (under the table) to avoid certain taxes, frantic phone calls to come to the office "right now," midnight signings of documents,  money wired directly to the bank account of the seller, rather than to an escrow account, then all sorts of drama surrounding the closing, which took nearly four hours. Sheesh! Looking back on the experience gives me goose bumps.

With the exception of having to sign or initial some 60 pages of contract, and the $90 it cost me to send the documents to France by UPS, the French process has been very easy so far. In it there is even a "cooling off period" of seven days, which for me will begin the day after I receive the signed contract package from the notaire by registered mail, sometime in the next few days.  During this official block of time either the buyer or the seller of the house can change their mind without any penalties. All I would have to do is write a note to the Notaire saying I have changed my mind. I don't even have to give a reason. 

So, I am waiting for my package and my fingers are crossed that the sellers do not decide to keep their charming, adorable little clocktower cottage while they are "cooling off" too.

The "Mood Board" keeps me in the mood for a little French chic

The contract is signed, deposit wired and now the purchase of the Clocktower Cottage is all but certain. Now, I am free to redecorate and make it my special place--also a special, memorable rental for the travelers I hope to attract with my new website: www.cozyclocktowercottage.com.

The "mood board" can take many shapes, but or me, it's a way to stay organized, remember my best ideas, and put photos and swatches together to be sure my initial instincts are as "spot on" as I hope.

My first plan is to paint the entire first floor a soft, subtle shade of blue, like Sherwin Williams's shade called "watery" (SW6478), then I will cover the existing couch and loveseat with ready-made slipcovers from Sure-fit in a taupe color. Their matelasse fabric in Linen is rich-feeling and goes with everything. I will choose a few fabrics that include blue, taupe and gold to make throw-pillow covers that will tie elements of the room together. Luisa has volunteered to help with the pillows. I will add a new lighting fixture and the "sejour" will be mostly done. Once I bring the large, gold rug down fom the bedroom, it should all roll together nicely.

The major effort will be lightening up the kitchen, with its stodgy, heavy oak cabinets, formica countertops and medeival lighting and wall decor. The table and chairs echo the heavy feel, more stodgy oak, and will need an update too.

Oof! The cabinets need painting and glazing so they have a shabby-chic feel. I'm looking for white cabinets against the blue walls and I have already purchased an assortment of cabinet "bling" to make everything look fresh and fun. With a total of 14 doors and 7 drawers, this will be a long, tedious project. I hope I am the right woman for the job. Then the table base and legs could be antique white, with a distressed charcoal--nearly black top. I would love to paint the chairs bright red, but the chairs are just too heavy--I may end up ditching them at a vide grenier for a new set of bistro chairs like these, from the Maisons du Monde catalog.

Thinking about all this work is making me tired. I will resume work on the mood board when I have a little more energy. Until then, a bientot!

How do I become more "French" : Pastis

I am half Irish, half Lithuanian and all-American, but in light of this recent aquisition of the house in Duras, I've decided I should become "a little French." It's a rainy afternoon. I am a little bored and now I am drinking an afternoon aperitif called Pastis. I had wanted to try one while in France, but since I didn't know what it was or how to drink it, I often took the safest path and ordered my ubiquitous rose' instead. Hugely popular, especially in the South of France, where summer temperatures can soar, the Pastis is meant to be a cooling refreshment, drunk outdoors, in the shade of a giant plane tree, perhaps while meditating on the arguments of Descartes or Sartre. Here, in this moment, I can't recreate the heat, or the outdoor cafe', I am certainly not thinking great thoughts, but I can recreate the Pastis.

I googled Pastis to see how it's properly served and the consensus seems to be that you put one part Pastis into a glass and add about four parts cold water. Here's where the "magic" comes into play as the cold water turns the clear, amber liquid into an opaque, yellow glog, much the color of egg-nog. The French called this having their Pastis "louche," (pronounced loosh) which means cloudy.  After louching it up, then you add a few ice cubes. Done.

Now, the aroma is similar to anisette, which I don't particularly like, but the taste is light, licorice-y, and not sticky sweet like Sambuca, which I detest. There are other aromatics at play here too, but like with most aperitifs or amari, the recipes are closely guarded and passed down through generations. I like it chilled, diluted over ice. It's the sort of thing you could sip for an hour without any expectation or desire of drunkenness. I can't wait to order one at the Cafe' de la Paix in Duras!

The verdict: J'aime beaucoup!

There's an excellent article about Pastis with history, anecdotes, recipes and more at: http://www.marvellous-provence.com/gastronomy/drink/pastis/pastis-de-marseille

The Secret

With very few exceptions, the idea and subsequent process to buy a house in France has been a completly private endeavor. Being that the idea started as my mid-life crisis dream, is completely impractical, totally unnecessary, expensive, complicated and maybe even irrational, I didn't see any real benefit in sharing my whim with anyone except a couple of supportive and loving cheerleaders: Joe and Luisa.

No one else but these two confidants is even remotely aware that I was considering a house in France, let alone that I had already done a year of research, narrowed down the region, identified my desires, looked at more than 20 houses over two week-long scouting trips, and now have actually found the town and the house to satisfy my fantasy. 

I feel relieved at this point that the process is coming to it's ultimate conclusion and I will soon own a charming pied-a-terre in a delightful town. The house is even part of a nationally-recognized historic monument and there's a lovely castle just a 5-minute walk away. The dream is really living up to itself. All is going according to plan--MY plan. But now this: how do I break the news to others, especially those who think they know me well enough not to expect bombshells like houses in France to just pop up on the radar without any warning? 

In some ways I feel guilty that I have not shared my dream and my pursuit because there was so much angst and passion and other internal turmoil that could have made for an interesting narrative, and certainly good cocktail party talk. For those who dare to dream similar dreams, I could have been a sort of aging, driven, optimistic role model who would not be deterred from her goal no matter how many very wrong houses she looked at. It was France after all, the right place was bound to turn up at some point. I feel a little guilty that I did not share my quest, but, at the same time, I know that I did not want to explain and re-explain myself to those types who might not get it--there are a lot of them--and so, the people I care about, those who could have shared in this process, or become additional cheerleaders were shut out. I am sorry.

In some ways, I didn't believe in my own dream enough to make it real for everyone. Now I do. 

Okay, so here it is. The dream, the pursuit, the clocktower--my new house.

The moment I knew ...

I am going backwards a bit in the timeline of how all this happened, but I found this email and think  it says a lot about my inner state in the moments leading to the decision to buy the clocktower house.

An excerpt from the email I sent to Joe to break the news:

Date: March 19, 2014 at 12:16:03 PM EDT
To: Joe Drago <jdrago@intmgmtsol.com>
Subject: My day

It's been a very good day!

I have spent the last few hours at the clock tower house alone. I took video and pics, thought about the types of changes I might make if it were mine. I opened all the shutters to let in the sun and got a broom to sweep the pigeon droppings off the stoop. I measured the couches for slip covers and mentally rearranged the furniture to open up the living room. I sat in the kitchen and had a glass of wine. I read a magazine. Now I'm thinking I have done everything I need to do here, except there's one big problem....
I don't want to leave. 
I am sitting on the couch just crying. Happy tears! I found my house! Thank you in advance. I love you!
I will figure out the rest. 
D

The serious part

The past few days have been “serious time” in my home-buying process. The fantasy, mid-life crisis part takes a back seat to the reality of contracts (in French!), inspection reports (in French!) and a daily back and forth over details of the sale. 

I received the federally-mandated inspections, which the seller must pay for and provide to the buyer within a week after the offer is accepted. The inspections include utilities, drains, water quality, termites, asbestos and liklihood of earthquakes. The reports sounded ominous and forboding in places, especially with regard to the gas and electric systems. The next day I received the contract, which included summaries of each of the inspections, along with Rosalind's translations. It seemed that the entire electrical system was out of date, possibly missing ground wires, which they call "earthing wires." The gas tank under the sink had an out-of-date hose, without any form of shut-off,that connected to the stove and the stove venting was improperly done. There were no termites or asbestos!

After reading and re-reading the reports, I sent Rosalind a note asking for specifics on the electrical problems. I wanted a real estimate from an electrician before I could proceed. The gas line was important too, but since only the stove uses gas from a small tank, I didn't see that as a big issue. The next morning I received a translated estimate of work from the electrician along with the pleasant news that the current owners said they would make all the modifications to the gas and electricity suggested in the reports. I was thrilled! So, at that point, with no real objections to anything else in the contract, I read and followed the instructions on how to sign each page of the contract. I did it. It went to the post office and now it is on it's way back to Duras. 

This is my look of relief after giving my contract package to the postal clerk.