The house is coming along. And by coming along, I mean we haven't done anything to it other than rewire, and that wasn't even done by us. I have big plans, though! So I guess I don't lack in the ideas department. It's just the execution that needs work.
In front of some rocks in Wiltshire.....We bought the ugliest kitchen cabinets. They're really, really ugly. I don't have a picture of them. I will soon. Before I transform them, I promise. I've promised M I will make an effort to finish the projects I start, which totally won't happen, but I have really good intentions. And I don't want half-finished kitchen cabinets. I'll just hold off on my desire to achieve ultimate laziness for another project.
Let's go back to these cabinets, though. I answered an ad on a local English (English language, English people...it's all the same here) website. The full kitchen was about €50. I didn't really care what condition it was in for that price. The only thing that would have been better is free. So early one Monday morning, M and I went to pick up these new cabinets.
When we left, the fountain in front of our house looked like this:
In other words, it was colder than should be legally allowed. (This is really amusing in light of what we had to deal with a few weeks later, but that's another story.) The lady of the house (I don't know what to call her) asked if I wanted to come inside where it was warm while the menfolk loaded the cabinets. I'm a cherry-picking feminist, so you can guess which option I chose. She ushered me inside where a hyperactive border collie was waiting to attack my face and upper body. And she didn't put the dog outside. I like dogs. Don't get me wrong. But I hate petting them or getting licked by them, because then my hands smell, and I become obsessed with the idea that I can feel dirt on my hands.
The room looked like it would make a great candidate for Hoarders. I'm used to a decreased standard of cleanliness at this point, but this was crazy. Old electronics, boxes upon boxes of old papers, musty, torn carpets, desks in every corner....
I sat on the couch closest to the wood-burning stove. The lady perched herself on the arm of the couch perpendicular to me and stared. She started asking me questions. They were mostly harmless, general questions. We made small talk. It was really a pretty normal level of awkwardness. She seemed pretty interested in me. And that's also normal. I chalk that up to not actually being interesting, but rather, to looking about 10 years younger than I am and having fairly insane stories. I'm pretty sure most people think I'm a pathological liar.
I always feel like I dominate conversations. When I get nervous, I talk. A lot. So I turned the tables and asked how long they had been here. She responded that her partner had been here for about 8 years, but she had only lived here for 3. I asked if they had met in France then. She said no, they had met in Spain, where she had been living.
"That's nice," I said. "Was he on holiday?" (I also have a lovely knack for saying really stupid things.)
"Yes," she said. "We met through mutual friends. I was still married to my husband at the time."
"Oh. Ohhh...." Yeeeeah. So. Not really sure how to follow up on that one. Thankfully, she did it for me.
Pre-much-needed hair cut"I lived in Spain for two years and it was miserable. I met D while he was on holiday there, left my husband of 22 years and moved here. We've been here ever since. I like it a lot, but I don't have insurance here since I don't work, and seeing doctors costs a lot of money. I've been ill with glandular fever since October, and I was finally getting better when we had guests over for the holidays. Guests are such hard work, you know. It was exhausting. They're always wanting things, and you have to keep the house so proper while they're here. You can't ever really relax. And now I'm feeling ill again." It was like the TMI floodgates had been opened. I was mental checking myself to Google glandular fever when I got home to make sure it wasn't contagious. I have this thing with infectious diseases. <---- understatement of the year
"That's too bad," I said. "I'm sorry you were ill. How many guests did you have?"
"Two," she said, and was thinking....two?! The way she was carrying on, I thought she'd had twelve.
"So..." At this point, I was grasping for conversation. And I'm naturally nosy. So yes, I went there. "Was your husband Spanish, then?"
"Yes," she said. "He still lives in Spain with our daughter."
She's only 4, and she's already getting birthday drinks from Frenchies."Are you fluent in Spanish? That must be helpful with French," I said.
"No," she replied. "My husband is a bit of a misogynist, and he believed a woman's place was in the house. I think he was a bit put off by how much Spanish I managed to learn while we were there."
At this point, the dog, who had been jumping from couch to couch and whining constantly, decided to use my face as a water bowl again. I was just about to stand up and say I should check on the cabinet-loading progress when she said, "Do you have many friends in Confolens?"
"Actually, yes, for only being there a few months, we've got quite a few already. It's really nice."
"Oh," she said. "We don't have any friends out here. It's so hard to meet people."
"I'm sorry," I said, because I really didn't know what else to say. It was quiet for a moment and I was ready to make my escape. I started to move my legs in that "I'm getting up now" way, which when she started talking again just made me look stupid like I was having some sort of body spasm.
"You should bring your children out here one night. We can have dinner. It would be really nice." Oh, dear.
Just then, M walked in with her partner. The border collie found a new victim and used all its might to reach his face.
"Wow, that dog can jump," M said, while leaning back as far as possible and shielding his face. I'm pretty sure the dog never runs out of energy.
"Mmmhmm," I said. The kitchen-cabinet people laughed. Don't laugh. Control your dang dog!
"Are you ready?" I asked M, jumping up off the couch and heading for the door.
"You wanted a glass of water," the man said to M. Darn it, I thought. Get some water in the car.
"There's water in the car," I said. "It's got ice in it from this morning. It will be freezing."
"That's true, but it's ok," M said. I wanted to burn him with my laser beam eyes. I don't have laser beam eyes, though, so my wants went unrealized.
Before the 5-minute walk to school, which is too much for Mini-Minion. She asks to be carried halfway there. :/"Oh, it's no trouble," the man said. He picked up a glass of Perrier. I saw it. M did not. I smirked vindictively to myself. We are Americans. We do not drink sparkling water. It tastes like carbonated wrong to us. I smiled sweetly at M as he took the first drink. He glanced at me. So much communication without saying a word. He finished the water, because that's how M is.
As we left, the lady followed us out to the car. She had this look of sad desperation. I'm surprised she didn't pull out a white handkerchief to wave at us as we left. We drove off, and I said to M, "I'm not trying to be weird, but I think she really liked me. She must be terribly lonely."
We got home, and there was an email waiting for me. It said I had hit it off so well with kitchen-cabinet lady and she'd like to invite us for dinner, which would be vegetarian, so we'd have to pick from a menu of various pizzas. He also said to bring the kids because the dog needed new chew toys (ok, he didn't say that) and if we had a VHS, he had some kids videos to sell to us, as well as an old UK television and a gas stove.
I'm buying lots of furniture. It mostly looks like this. I haven't answered an ad on that English website since.
