Tag Archives: restoring

CSI (Crime Scene Investigation)

When we arrived at the crime scene it was close to 10 a.m. We expected someone to be there, but the house was locked. We headed back to the car to pick up the keys and to grab our phone. “Why is nobody here?” we wondered. The builders should have been there working–they promised to start at 8:00. But there were no sounds of drilling or hammering; the property was deserted.

After Sara opened the door we were confronted with a scene of delict. Next to the stairs there was a broken cup, a splash of coffee, a smudge of blood, a trace of driblets, and a Stanley knife. Grissom said, “This can’t be right. Something’s missing.” We looked around and followed a small trail of blood to the locked front door. “The victim is still alive,” Grissom observed. He continued with his findings. “There must have been two people, as the door is locked without any smudging of blood. But where did the blood on the floor come from? Did the victim cut himself or was he attacked?” The Stanley knife did not look as if it had just been used–the blade was pulled back. I picked it up. “No blood on the knife,” I announced.

Grissom went up the stairs to investigate the situation. I followed him admiringly. “What if someone fell down, losing his mug, and fell onto something sharp like…?” I went over the movements. “Like a shard of mug?” “We only follow the facts!” Grissom said with certainty. “Assumptions have many shapes, reality only one.” Smart guy. I bucked up.

We needed to find Stephane or Jamal, his assistant. Either one should know what had happened. We walked up the hill to Stephane’s house and we ran into Arthur, a fairy-blond boy with deep blue eyes–the 7-year-old son of Stephane. I gave him my regular greeting, “Bonjour Arthur, çava?” “Bien merci,” came his weary reply. “Ou est ton papa?” I asked him. “Au l’hopital.” He answered without a wink and continued his play.

There are moments you just wish you could speak all languages of the world. D’accord. Stephane is at the hospital. Not good. The blood must be his.

To make a long story short, Stephane did fall off the stairs and cut his hand deeply. Jamal took him to the hospital in Reims where he had to stay for two days. He needed surgery since he’d cut himself quite deeply and hit a tendon. He can’t use his right hand for some time: the delay will be at least three weeks.

No igh Fives for Stephane.

No High Fives for Stephane.

“Oh well, we need to wait for the building permit anyway.”

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Where once was …

The house is shaking. The sound of the pneumatic drill moves the thin spider webs. A bang. Clouds of white dust whirl up from an unknown corner. Where once were walls, there’s space. Where once were ceilings there’s air.

We’ve been to Tourteron this weekend and we took more pictures. You can follow the whole restoration / renovation on Flickr.

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Old turning to New

The Old Door

The Old Door

Almost two weeks ago we’ve asked our neighbor to make us new doors. It was a kinda test to see how he did. Stéphane is nice and smart, speaks English but can he make a door? The answer is obviously YES he can.

The old doors were completely rotten and turned to the right. When we first took a look it looked quite simple but apparently the sandstone doorposts had handled more than one door in the past and were full of iron pins, not able to have any extra or they would break. We needed to change the situation.

The New Door

The New Door

We now think this part of the barn was used as a black smith for fixing horseshoes. There used to be a fire place and the floor looks like a cattle barn. We also found one horse shoe. Maybe we should ask the old Monsieur Le Noble next time.

Anyway the new doors swing to the left and are waiting for their final color. Every area has its own ‘official’ colors to use for shutters and doors. The mayor knows.

What do you think would look nice on these doors? 😉

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