It is what it is

As this bizarre year of turmoil and uncertainty draws to a close, I figured it was time to finally stop procrastinating and put my thoughts into words. So, the burning questions are, why did I progressively lose interest in writing my blog and what happened to make me suddenly decide to put pen to paper once again?

When we first set out on this adventure of ours, way back in 2014, everything was new to us. So many changes happened and I had so many things to write about, I had to limit myself to one blog post a month. As the years have passed, we’ve slowly settled into our new life and I guess our slow pace of life now imitates the rural environment in which we live. We’ve still got a long way to go, but we’re happy to progress little by little, step by step. These tiny changes are nothing in comparison to the huge decisions and adjustments we made when we left the mountains for a quiet life in the countryside and when I write about them, they don’t strike me, let alone the inquisitive reader, as being the epitome of excitement.

So, not wanting to disappoint my loyal readers with mundane stories of everyday life Chez TêteBlanche, I preferred to remain silent, that is until I had something “interesting” to report. But, I’ve come to realise something of late…that over time I’ve forgotten exactly what this blog is all about. When I started out, it was a way of documenting our progress, whilst keeping our family and friends involved with up-to-date pictures and summaries. It was never really about trying to write exciting stories for similar-minded people to read around the world. But, as my number of followers grew, so too, did the pressure on me to provide new and inspiring narratives. So, I’m taking action. Because I love writing and I feel it is important to document every step of this journey, no matter how big or small, I have made a decision to continue writing my blog, from the heart.

Which brings me back to where I left off…the first lockdown in spring 2020.

Although difficult for many, I would like to think that a great many people were able to take a step back and reflect on the important things in life. Through technology, lockdown meant people reconnected with old friends and paid more attention to their family. People were able to reconnect with nature too and got to spend valuable time outdoors. I hope that people were able to appreciate the importance of free time and contemplete a life uninhibited by work.

Here’s a poem I wrote during the sixth week of French lockdown:

Indeed, a few changes have taken place Chez TêteBlanche this year, and I have learnt a few things too.

Lesson number 1 : don’t use chalk paint on kitchen cupboards!

2020 was the year we decided to tackle the kitchen. What began as an elaborate renovation project, involving us knocking down walls and installing a range cooker, was quickly knocked into touch when we realised our electricity was running on the old tri-phase system, thus limiting our kilowattage and preventing us from installing the stove of our dreams. Compromises had to be made and our budget did not stretch as far as we’d have hoped, so we decided to upcycle the old-fashioned oak kitchen units and left the tiled floor and walls intact.
I wanted to have a rustic, country kitchen, so having watched some YouTube videos, I took it upon myself to chalk paint the kitchen cupboards. Wow, was it a lengthy process: de-greasing, followed by three coats of chalk paint on both sides of each cupboard door and frame…and we’re talking a lot of cupboards. Then, a layer of wax to finish off the job. It was enough to work up my arm muscles, I can tell you. We ditched the intricate door latches for simple, round doorknobs to add a touch of modernity.

To put it in a nutshell, our kitchen renovation was really a matter of moving kitchen units and appliances around, to make the most of the usable space and enable us to have a larger worktop area for food prep and cooking. It sounds easy, but it involved a lot of work (as you can see in the photos below, taken at different stages). Please bear in mind, it was a working kitchen so we were still cooking and eating in it throughout the whole process! We invested in a new sink, worktops and a gas hob and the other costs included materials, such as paint, tiles, fixtures and wood for the window ledges. Everything else was already there when we moved in. 

Now, I can’t tell you how proud I was of those beautifully-painted cupboards, knowing the time and effort it took me to make them look “rustic”. Any imperfections added to the quirkiness of the kitchen and my new motto became “it is what it is”, meaning accept what tools or money you have to work with, then make the most of it. This was a very important lesson for me, because sometimes it’s easy to get swept away with these designer kitchen images that we see everywhere, but it was never our goal. At the end of the day, we are trying to live as sustainably as possible and so giving a new life to our kitchen by recycling as much as possible was much more up our street. 

The problem came when sticky fingers, kitchen spills of homemade tomato sauce, oils and fats made their way onto our kitchen cabinet doors. If you tried to wash the cupboards down, it took the paint off, right back to the bare wood. It soon dawned on me that chalk paint might look good on old bedside tables, but it just isn’t practical in a kitchen. Accepting defeat, we bought some long-lasting, heavy-duty, glycerin paint in the same colour and I gave each and every door, frame and drawer another two coats! Each coat took over 12 hours to dry, but hey, I got over it. It’s done. It is what is it!

But it wasn’t the only thing I learnt this year! 

Lesson number 2 : don’t be in a rush to switch to fibre-optic internet!

Back in July, when the school holidays were in mid-swing and we were beginning to find a bit of normality after the disruptions of home schooling, no longer needing permission letters to go outside and the acceptance of mask-wearing and hand gel use becoming the new norm, I began teaching English to adults via Skype for a reputable French company, based in Paris. Within the space of a week, I had 12 students, Air France pilots, flight attendants, airport security personnel, Euro Disney employees. All different levels, all motivated and keen to improve. I determined my own working hours and times, and all from the comfort of my living room. It was ideal. In fact, it still is. I am still doing it to this day, and I love it!

The only problem was the arrival of fibre optic in our commune, much sooner than anticipated. When something sounds too good to be true, it generally is! But, fibre-optic internet would guarantee me a good, reliable connection for my lessons, so when I found we were eligible, I signed up, on the promise that under no circumstance would my internet connection be cut until the intervention of the installation technician in November. How naive I was!

Our ADSL was unexpectedly cut off, leaving us without Internet for three weeks, at the peak of the second confinement in November. No computer, no wifi so no printer, no TV, no telephone. I hate to admit it but I was completely lost without it and it was not only my income that suffered, but it had a huge impact on my emotional state! I felt helpless, held to ransom by the sheer incompetence of one heedless internet company. The whole point of trying to live autonomously is to be independent and no longer have to rely on multinational corporations. We still have a fuel-run heating system, which means we are subject to volatile oil prices, we pay mainstream suppliers for our water and electricity and our internet connection is provided by a monopolysing, French multinational telecommunications corporation. This journey is far from over! 

Which brings me to Lesson number 3: don’t underestimate the power of the mayor

After one week of cancelled online lessons, hours spent on chat sites and help forums, with very limited mobile data remaining, our kind neighbours stepped in to offer their services and for the next two weeks, I went round to their house every day to do my lessons. With broken promise after broken promise from the phone company, not to mention subsequent internet problems for other neighbours on our hamlet (having also succumbed to the promise of high speed internet), in desperation, we went to the local newspaper and within two days, an article was published. It caused quite a stir to say the least. The phone company director contacted the mayor, as did the sous-prefecture and it was the talk of the town. It was never my intention to cause a scandal but miraculously, within 24 hours of the article going to print, our ADSL line was reconnected.
What I did learn through this was that the mayor has the power to get things moving and had I gone to him first, I would have discovered first-hand that he was very good friends with the phone company director. Out here, in the countryside, it’s not what you know but who you know. You’d have thought I’d have worked that out by now!

So, we’re pretty much up to date now. In this strange year like no other, there’s been highs, such as my brother finally getting married, and lows, with the passing of my grandma, but we are in a good place, surrounded by good people and the delights of the countryside never disappoint, such as waking up last week to the sight of a cow in our garden!

We had a lovely, quiet Christmas, just the four of us, with Yorkshire puddings made from our chickens’ eggs, carrots, potatoes and red cabbage from our garden and beef wellington baked in a home-grown mushroom and walnut paste. Did I not mention Pete grows his own oyster mushrooms now? Or that we’re no longer vegetarian? Well, that will have to wait for another instalment in 2021, when hopefully we will be able to catch up with old friends and family, and the future, for many, will look a whole lot brighter. Until then, have a safe and happy new year!