winter building woes

Some say that “with due precautions and proper equipment nearly all construction work can be carried on in winter…”  I am not sure if this is true.  Our sturdy team have abandoned site.  This week the world around us turned into a white deepfreeze.  With no form of central heating any more, we hover around a small blow heater in the evenings before and after supper, we double up on duvets and eat well to keep up our strength.  We munch on assorted slow-cooked stews , or gobble fried boudin with butter beans, zucchini and aubergine, all gently tossed around in olive on the hotplate.  We wash things down with smooth peppery shiraz or soft hearty merlot.

dreaming of a white kitchen

I have been looking at new kitchens: minimalistic, sleek, contemporary design marvels that almost intimidate me with their sophistication. I dream about clean clear kitchens, white glorious cooking heavens, empty shiny counter tops by the meter. I wake in a cold sweat. Should it be the glossy white or the soft birch?  My other half reminds me that we cannot order any kitchen (no matter the colour) until the builders have actually built the kitchen and the cement has set. How long can I wait?

  

process

fly ash, slag and aggregate

Manu and his sturdy team are almost ready to pour the first layers of fly ash, slag cement and aggregate mixture, otherwise known as concrete. My sister-in-law Marna asked me tonight if we could not after all host the New Year’s party on January first (it is actually our turn to host this annual event you understand) since the speed at which we are moving, may well deliver a new kitchen by Christmas! 

I am beside myself with the prospect.

high humour, low stress (pour le moment anyway)

Tonight garbanzo bean stew with poached salmon, cooked in slow cooker (on bedroom floor) and hot plate situated on all-purpose ikea table shared by computers, french and dutch dictionaries, glass of beer, olive oil, balsamic vinegar, remote control and spring onions.

demolition almost done

I am not wondering who the electrician will be nor the plumber, the layer of floors nor the general handy-man... It will be my other half!  At this point of the exercise, the other half is holding out very well. Even on this Sunday he is right at the face of the coal.

firewood?

don't know why, but

                       Why am I thinking about William Wharton and his memoir Houseboat on the Seine? It could have to do with the idea of floating or sinking like Wharton’s houseboat. Or it could perhaps have something to do with never-ending renovations. With multiple visits to the hardware store over the years? Most likely with the idea of always choosing the most difficult, most challenging path.

oops, we went into the neighbours kitchen!

Without meaning to be invasive, our builders went right into the kitchen next door! The gourmet sandwich restaurant next door yesterday reported a sudden burst of dust, a cloud of old ash, puffing out from the shared wall. Not a strange event actually in this neck of Nivelles, where we live right beside each other, sharing our heat, mutually supporting our vertical structures. What next? Manu, our entrepreneur, found a reservoir filled with groundwater, the source of which is still a mystery. Could it be from the neighbour on the south?

peeling away the past

Multiple layers have been stripped off, revealing some past owners’ taste for a graceful kitchen interior. It’s a kind of archeological exploration, digging into lost stories of private lives, gone forever. I conjure up images of cooks fretting over coal hobs, scrubbing muddy roots for a tasty pot-au-feu. The kitchen-no-more was built about 70 years ago, simply stuck onto the 300 year-old house. During previous improvements on the ancient part, we found wattle and daub walls, a building method developed thousands of years ago. Latticed strips of wood were bonded together with wet soil, dung and straw; a low-impact building technique appreciated anew during our present move towards eco-friendly construction. 

lingering smoke, dust in the air

The chap who developed thermal underwear was also the guy who designed the first percolating coffee pot. Apparently not only was he into underwear and drinking coffee, he also enhanced the design of the chimney, and all this sometime during the late 1700’s. By restricting the opening of the stack, he enlarged the up-draught, which is supposed to get the smoke up and away into the chimney, rather than leaving the smoke lingering longer in your living area. By now you have guessed that Sir Benjamin Thompson aka Count Rumford was not around when our chimneys were built here at number 19. Tonight I am more than thrilled to report that two of those chimneys have bitten the dust.

how and what to eat when you have no kitchen

Hearty-lentil-stew -- jolly delicious. Someone suggested a slow cooker and yesterday I went off in search of just such a thing. I came home with a Kenwood Mijoteur. All I had to do this morning was place the ingredients in the crock, adjust the cooking time electronically, and set the contraption on the bedroom floor. Voilà, nine hours later after some intensive hard labour, we can feast. Of course, your local friends also spoil you with supper invitations! Bassett update: she had the long walk as promised.

what is happening here, asks the bassett

The dog seems to be more agitated than we are. She is investigating what is left of the back of the house, checking for memories, checking her peemails in the courtyard among the piles of rubble. You are still a lucky bassett, we tell her. You could still have been stuck at Animaux En Peril. We promise you a decent long walk in the forest tomorrow, so that you can frollick and gallavant galore.

unsettling the dog and the pipes, or how to keep sane

The dog howls all night. Our beds were moved too but we don't howl all night. I suppose when a dog sees  her dogbox and dogbed move as well as her dogdoor to the backyard shut for good, she becomes unsettled. Our foodbowls too have moved, I remind her.

But the best unsettling we caused yesterday, was the removal of the old kitchen plumbing! Now let me tell you about that old single kitchen sink. It was never deep enough for a large moules pot, nor ever wide enough for a casserole dish. How did I ever manage all those years? I have to admit that I rejoiced when the thing was violently ripped from the creaky counter, and you can well imagine what lurked below. I am doing lots of cheering on, lots of encouragement when that ten-pound hammer is flung about.You have to keep that smile on your face, I keep reminding my patient husband, who keeps reminding me in return. Christmas is a-coming.

to give an idea....

The antiquated old kitchen had only two electrical outlets on which I had to connect the toaster, the kettle, the combination oven, the microwave oven, the food processor, the blender, the senseo coffee machine, the coffee grinder, the electric grill and the juice-maker. Nevertheless, I was always grateful that I had a kitchen counter on which to balance all these appliances...

a new kitchen for christmas?

The builder says he can do the job in six weeks! Imagine, a new kitchen for Christmas! I am so gullable. Anyway, yesterday we started clearing the old one. I found stuff I never thought I had. Seaweed expired in 2003 already, rancid nutmeg and truffle olive oil, dating back to 98. This is too embarrassing, so let me change the direction I am moving in. While sucking up old dust from behind the kitchen cabinets - cabinets I swore would leave the premises after two weeks of moving in in October 91- I promised myself that my new life will be feng shuied into enviable minimalism.

I have wanted a new kitchen for 18 years....

Now it seems we may be getting closer. We have the building permit! The house is 300 years old; so waiting for almost 2 decades to renovate the kitchen is not long. In fact, we will be gaining more than just a new kitchen. We are creating an entire new section with new open-plan dining area and kitchen upstairs on the first floor while downstairs the wineshop will get its own toilet, kitchenette and walk-out to the courtyard.... we are thinking wine-garden next spring!

The picture shows our wine-shop banner on the front of the house on rue de Bruxelles, Nivelles. We have been trying to sell South African wine to the local francophones, with some success!