72) Summer's almost over, back to work

Actually I have been working pretty hard over the summer but, with all our visitors, there have been rather a lot of play days too.  As well as the young (see previous post), we've also had the older generation in an attempt not to appear too ageist (one 83 year old French friend who came round for a swim dived straight in the pool and did two lengths under water - I find that quite a challenge at 25 years younger).  The pool has, though, been a godsend during our (official) canicule even if some only want to dangle their feet whilst admiring our palm trees (see left of picture).

Pools aren't just about lazing around though, they do require a certain amount of work (albeit quite enjoyable).

Inevitably the heatwave did take its toll.  Various trees and hedge plants I had planted earlier this year just gave up the ghost (I never thought I would actually be planting Lelandii but, with such a mature existing hedge, it really is the only sensible way to extend it in our lifetime).

Our lawn went brown and our horse chestnut decided it was Autumn about the sixth of August (actually it is - work it out - mid summer's day 21 June, four equal seasons of three months, first day of Autumn about the 6th of August).

The terrace (which faces south) was just too hot at lunch time, but we found a partially shaded spot for the gazebo which worked well and (at the time of writing) it hasn't yet blown away.

In the summer the markets become more crowded, but they are still one of the great delights of being here.  And now we can even engage in a bit of light hearted banter with some of the stall holders whom we are getting to know quite well. 

Sooooo many cheeses, hand baked bread, patiseries, fresh vegetables ripened in the sun (rather than in nitrogen) and fruit with flavour, especially our local melons.  An easy way to have a simple but delicious lunch on the terrace with a demi Querbi and three cheeses including some Brillat-Savarin - what living in France is all about.

71) Welcome to Paradise

The pool is now fully "commissioned".  And it's wonderful. Landscaping will have to wait until next year, after the ground has settled, but we have had a temporary concrete (shap) surround put down on two sides so it can be used without traipsing mud in and out.

G is in it most of the time................

.........and with nieces, nephews, great nephews and great nieces staying it really came into its own.

Though I also managed to persuade the two boys to do a bit of mild mountaineering, exploring the woods and up on the the ridge (we found three lizards, some beautiful butterflies, lots of crickets and a fabulous view).

70) The making of a pool

Since my last post (rather a long time ago I'm afraid) the pool has made great progress and we are nearly pret a plonger.  I thought, therefore, I would give a blow by blow account of "the making of a pool...."

After the concrete base had been laid we had a torrential downpour.  The pool filled up with water (before it had any method of draining it) and the surrounding excavations turned into a claggy quagmire.

Undaunted our Portuguese macons turned up on time and got to work building the sides.

It didn't take long before it started looking a bit like a pool......

Then there was the  local technique to construct.  This is where all the equipment goes (pump, filter, valves etc).  We have designed this to be sous sol, firstly so it can't really be seen and secondly, so that any noise from the pump and so on is masked by its position under the earth.

Then (quite randomly) the chap turned up in a rather intriguingly rigged tractor to cut the grass in our field - a story for another time.

Once the walls were finished, the skimmers went in.

Next the walls were rendered to give a smooth finish.  I asked the (French) artisan if he was a platrier - plasterer).  Oh my goodness me no, he told me, he was a macon.  Plasterers work inside he said, trying hard not to make it too obvious he thought the client an imbecile.

In the midst of our chantier we saw this extraordinarily beautiful butterfly, which seemed to have been designed by Mary Quant.

Once the walls had been rendered (by the macon) they were capped off, ready for the margelles.

After quite a lot of discussion between the plumbers, the pool people, the electricians and the digger man it was finally resolved who would be doing what in terms of laying and connecting the cables and water pipes (this could easily merit a separate posting of its own).

With the digger back again (still, regretfully, without its key when it was left overnight) they got onto the job of landscaping the surrounding mud bath.

While all this was going on this most bizarre of creatures dropped in on us.  It looked like a leaf, but we think it was some sort of weird and wonderful moth (though we couldn't find anything quite like it on the internet).

With the basic landscaping completed, it begins to look like a real pool.

Following quickly on from the macons, the pool people started to be install the equipment in our underground bunker.

They then put the trim round the edge for the liner to be attached to.

On a wonderfully sunny day shortly afterwards, our two pool blokes turned up to fit the felt which goes under the liner (to soften the feel of the concrete render).

With the felt in place, the sable (sand coloured) liner was fitted directly after.

And then the water was turned on (with a rather clever ball cock device to switch it off once it got to the level they wanted for the next task - cutting the holes for the jets, the skimmers and the underwater light)

Today it got to 32 degrees and it seems set to continue.......

............but, for the moment all we can do is watch and wait as the water level rises slowly slowly....

69) Cahors en fete (ou en fou?)

A very enjoyable trip (as always) to the Saturday market in Cahors.  And (as always) we ran into some of our  (adopted) French family, Pierre and his enigmatic younger daughter, Camille.

It is the season of fetes.  And not to be out done, Cahors has a sort of celebration of gardens.  Various events have been happening, most of which we have missed, but one that is on for a month is a weird project to knit woollen knitted type things round random street objects dotted about the town - like trees for instance.

or the already rather weird sculpture outside the law courts........................

........and the odd park bench.  This made a bit more sense as it greatly improved the comfort of the usually red-hot iron municipal seating provision; and clearly it amused the locals.

There was also a display of (almost certainly crap) sculpture in the cathedral cloisters.  But we had missed it.

One thing we came across by luck, which was not part of the fete, was this rather intriguing (Zen?) garden in the municipal headquarters of the planning department.  It consisted of a few dead twigs in a tray of gravel, surrounded by an MDF, vomit coloured, up-sweeping border with a hole in it.  Clearly there was a great deal of subtlety and symbolism that had simply gone over our heads.  We couldn't understand why this too had not been highlighted in the fete.

It is also interesting to note that the building housing the planning department must be one of the ugliest and most inappropriate buildings in Cahors.  According to the sign outside, which no one has bothered to take down, it was once the police headquarters building.  One wonders how it ever managed to get planning permission; on the other hand.......

And in our own garden the lettuces are doing really well (the glass is there to give scale - it was the nearest thing to hand).

68) Pool progress

The DIGGER.  First came the digger.

Once the basic shape of the pool had been dug, a concrete lorry arrived to deposit the concrete base over reinforcing which had been laid by the Portuguese macons.  It had a very clever extending arm (with a conveyor belt), enabling it to drop the concrete where needed.  The driver, though, seemed a bit bolshy.  I suspect he didn't like being ordered around by Portuguese.  The French tend to be very sensitive about foreign workers who work twice as hard for half the money (in France the equivalent of the Irish navvies are the Portuguese, but they are generally much nicer and easier to understand - than the Irish).  At times it did look as though the concrete might end up being poured down one of our intrepid Portuguese artisan's necks.

I went and had a friendly chat with the lorry driver, and enthusiastically complimented him on his skills with the boom, and soon we were the best of friends.  He seemed to accept that, as these guys were the ones building the pool, they did have some input into where the concrete should be laid.  I think he also had a healthy regard for who was the client and, with me hanging about, it probably was not a good idea to encase the workers in concrete (even if they were foreign).

The concrete was spread all over the reinforcing mesh, whilst lifting the steel bars with their spades to ensure the reinforcing was in the middle of the concrete, rather than simply sitting underneath it, where it would be pretty ineffective (but an all to common fault).

Soon the base of the pool (and the steps) was complete.  It took two lorry loads of concrete and when the driver returned an hour or two later, it was like reuniting with long lost friends.  You can also see the vertical reinforcing bars, which the hollow concrete blocks for the pool sides fit over.  These are subsequently filled with more concrete.

The day after, another lorry arrives with a very cool crane operator, sporting Paco Rabanne shades.  These, however, gave him a bit of a Stevie Wonder look, but it turned out he wasn't blind after all and placed large piles of concrete blocks with great skill and dexterity.  The Portuguese macons weren't there this day so he probably presumed the artisans were French compatriots and very helpfully spread the blocks evenly around the pool (we are using a French pool company, but they have taken on this excellent group of Portugeuse macons to do most of the building work).

Even before the blocks had finished being unloaded, up roars Mr COOL himself; our (French) digger man.  No need here for designer sunglasses to demonstrate/prove his coolness  He had two different piles of different sand in the back of the lorry.  Up went the back; then he moved smartly forward just the right amount, and two (distinct and separate) piles of sand dropped right next to the mixer.  He makes even Jean-Paul Van-Damme look gauche.