Domestic stuff.

As the weather was so cold we used a fan heater to warm up the main living room in the farmhouse for much of our stay., and if we used the electric heater in the bedroom we had to be careful what other appliances were used. The French authorities insist that a 'disjoncteur', be installed on the main supply. In the Farmhouse this is set at around 35 Amps. So if three 12 amp appliances are used your supply is well and truly 'disjoncted'. This only represents two 3kW heaters and an electric Kettle.

The real problem I have is that our 'disjoncteur' is with the meter and fuseboard. So far so good. However these are situated upstairs. Not too bad, I hear. However at the moment the only access to the upstairs (granary originally) is a set of outdoor concrete stairs. Not so good. But when the only way to access these is to walk round the Farmhouse and Longere, back a little way down the lane, over a ditch via a slippery board (mind the septic tank with the cracked concrete lid) and through a bit of undergrowth only to find the stairs coated in moss, it then becomes a bit more than a chore. Needless to say the blackouts happen on wet cold nights. We had three and I had to sort them out, being the only to know where these things are. Still c'est la vie rustique!!!

To recover from our prolonged journey, we decided to have a restful day on Sunday and generally just pottered about and wondered about the 'fishy' smell which appeared every time the main room was heated. We all had our speculations but tried not to think about what may be hidden beneath the floorboards. But it was very noticeable at times. We had commented on it in previous visits. Very strange. Steve discovered lots of 'interesting wood' while looking over the property, but mostly filled with wormholes. He is an insurance assessor and likes 'interesting' wood. He decided that he must visit the granary in the Longere but as the only access was via a ladder he decided to use one of those dotted in the Haybarn (Hangar or 'ongar as the French describe them). That was until I pointed out the amount of woodworm in all of them.

Eventually a day or so later, he did manage to get into the loft and found more ladders up there one of which he promptly climbed down. However it is a good job that he is of slight build as when I decided to test the ladder the third rung promptly disintegrated!! He didn't try again until the neighbours lent us an aluminium ladder out of a fear of accident.

That Monday evening we decided on a game of trivial pursuit and actually managed to finish one game after demolishing some beer, several bottles of wine and a bottle of Calvados for Laura and I.

We didn't manage to get to Quintin for the Tuesday market. We were beset by a mysterious illness completely unconnected to the beer, wine and spirits of the previous evening of course. However by Wednesday we were much better and

Thursday was much more fun! And we found the source of the Fishy smell.

I had been out to Quintin to deposit some money from the bank and heard a scraping noise interrmittently from the direction of the front wheel. S ounds like a brake backplate catching I thought, although I had not noticed a problem when I relined the brakes for the MOT. Another job when I get home!

After the normal long wait behind a queue of one I managed to deposit some cash into my account in Banque de Bretagne, enough to pay the standing order to the EDF for three months or so and the bank charges. They are extortionate in France. However the French seem to accept long queues and wait as a matter of course, just a shrug of the shoulders and bottom lip thrust out, 'c'est la vie'.

I arrived back at the farm for lunch and a siesta. Or so I thought. After eating, the next disaster. The disjoncteur cut out. At least it's light I thought. What caused it this time? I mused. Round and up I went and threw the switch. OK for now. As I went back, I noticed that there was an unpleasant liquid overflowing from the soil pipe to the septic tank. Now don't ask me why there is an 50 mm open inlet in the soil pipe. I have no answer to that. It is yet another mystery. But there it was, oozing an unpleasant liqid. Just what I needed a blocked sewer and no rods.

In the 'ongar, I managed to find a small coil of stiffish wire, about 3 mm diameter which I had spotted previously. I managed to fashion that into a sort of shape which would fit the pipe. I tried, no good. I tried again with a slightly different shape, pushed, pulled and twisted, success. With the loo flushed a couple of times the problem was solved. That was it I thought, now for a rest. Wrong!