facade2A French Diary – restoring a house in the Languedoc…

Whatever money is available now, choices have to be made. The leaking roof is obviously a priority, whilst the roof terrace, though extremely desirable, is not.
.. First there was plumber number one: Monsieur P. The man was a little dote. I say little, because the level of his eyes just about reaches my breasts. However, he took great pride in his profession. His first task had been an unpleasant one, one that he nevertheless ‘plunged into’ with great relish. My only reservation was that he had insisted on shaking hands afterwards…
At around 10am on a Thursday the loudspeaker on the Mirepeisset Mairie sends out a scratchy message that the travelling volailler (poultry-vendor) and the jardinier with his fruit and veggies are installed on the square. They stay there for an hour or so. Minutes after the public announcement the housewives of Mirepeisset are queuing, panniers in arm, to purchase the day’s dinner. It’s an arrangement that has not changed since the 1930’s. But then life hasn’t changed here either. If it was in black and white, it could be mistaken for a day in the 1950’s world of Fernandel…
Even at the age of 80, toothless and wrinkled, these men flirt with women and life in general. It’s wonderful. And invigorating. This is how life should be lived. They haven’t much and are content with little. But by golly, they know how to make the best out of it…

(For the full article see Restoring a House in the South of France).