Lots of jobs done

It was with mixed emotions that we said goodbye to our Helpxers this morning; it’s been great having them here, but we (and they) are exhausted and looking forward to a few days respite.

As first experiences of Helpx go, I don’t think we could have been luckier; Gwen and Valentin were cheerful and hardworking. They first helped collect the wood from the forest, a task that would have taken Nick and I weeks on end. Then we set them on to clearing the banking of weeds; we planted plants there two years ago and it’s been sadly neglected since, so the weeds were shoulder high in places, there were brambles and nettles everywhere, most of what we’d planted had died of neglect and because of the lack of rain this year, the soil was like concrete. But they took it on as a personal challenge, determined to finish it before they left and finish it they did, just the night before. Nick let Valentin have a play with the chain saw, the strimmer and the compressed air driven roofing nailer; he was delighted to be let loose with such toys and the two of them finished off the pergola by putting in the lats on the top, which in turn allowed me to treat the wood with a sort of creosote-y stuff.

In their time off they borrowed bikes, walked, had a day in Auch and we took them to see an armagnac distillery, so I think they enjoyed their stay. We certainly enjoyed having them here.

Nos jeunes “Helpxers” sont partis ce matin; on etait triste les voir partir, mais nous sommes tous, les quatre, tellement crevés apres 18 jours de travail dur.

Ils nous ont aidé prendre 10 stères de bois de la foret, ils ont desherbé le grand but de terre au jardin et ils nous ont aidé finir le pergola. Ils etaient tellement gentils; toujours heureux et bons travailleurs. Quand ils ne travaillaient pas, ils ont emprunté des vélos, ils sont allés à Auch et nous les avons amené à un chai d’armagnac; donc ils ont vu un peu du Gers, qu’ils ont beaucoup apprecié.

Comme premier essaye de Helpx, c’etait une grande réussite.

And the Muppet of the week award goes to…..

I take on too much, I know I do, and one of the ways I try to make up time is by skim reading emails and the like. This usually works in English, but is less successful in French.

We’d exchanged several emails with our Helpx couple, about their arrival, food, work, etc., so we set off to pick them up from Toulouse railway station on Saturday afternoon. We got a little lost, but eventually found the station, but not our helpxers. I phoned to check where they were; in front of the station. So were we, but couldn’t see them. “La gare de Matabiau?” I asked. “No, the gare St Jean.” I asked directions to the other station at the information desk, but the man seemed a bit bewildered, got out a map and pointed to the autoroute that leads to Bordeaux. No, I explained, I wanted the gare St Jean in Toulouse; finally I understood; there isn’t one; it’s in Bordeaux, 4 hours drive west. I phoned Valentin back; “are you in Bordeaux?” “Yes.” ” I thought you were coming to Toulouse.” ” We changed our plans, we did tell you.” When I looked back through the emails it was there, but somehow, in skimming, I’d missed it. Fortunately they were able to get a car share as far as Mont de Marsan, from where we picked them up, finally arriving home after midnight, instead of 8.30 pm. I don’t think I’ve ever felt such an idiot.

I’d prepared a quiche for the evening, which we had for lunch the following day. I took a bite; it was sweet! Or to be more precise, the pastry was sweet. As they’re vegetarian and try to avoid eating butter, I’d bought pastry as it’s made with oils; what I hadn’t realised is that pâte brisée is savoury, whereas pâte sablée is sweetened. It tasted really strange!

I’m still waiting for disaster number three.

We haven’t put them off completely, however; they’re a lovely young couple, quite a bit younger than our own kids, and they’re enthusiastic, strong and more than willing to work. We did a couple of hours of forest clearing today and it made an enormous difference, as Gwenaëlle can carry more wood than I can and Valentin can carry as much as both of us. Clearing the wood is looking like a realistic possibility now.

And the Muppet of the week award goes to…..

I take on too much, I know I do, and one of the ways I try to make up time is by skim reading emails and the like. This usually works in English, but is less successful in French.

We’d exchanged several emails with our Helpx couple, about their arrival, food, work, etc., so we set off to pick them up from Toulouse railway station on Saturday afternoon. We got a little lost, but eventually found the station, but not our helpxers. I phoned to check where they were; in front of the station. So we’re we, but couldn’t see them. “La gare de Matabiau?” I asked. “No, the gare St Jean.” I asked directions to the other station at the information desk, but the man seemed a bit bewildered, got out a map and pointed to the autoroute that leads to Bordeaux. No, I explained, I wanted the gare St Jean in Toulouse; finally I understood; there isn’t one; it’s in Bordeaux, 4 hours drive west. I phoned Valentin back; “are you in Bordeaux?” “Yes.” ” I thought you were coming to Toulouse.” ” We changed our plans, we did tell you.” When I looked back through the emails it was there, but somehow, in skimming, I’d missed it. Fortunately they were able to get a car share as far as Mont de Marsan, from where we picked them up, finally arriving home after midnight, instead of 8.30 pm. I don’t think I’ve ever felt such an idiot.

I’d prepared a quiche for the evening, which we had for lunch the following day. I took a bite; it was sweet! Or to be more precise, the pastry was sweet. As they’re vegetarian and try to avoid eating butter, I’d bought pastry as it’s made with oils; what I hadn’t realised is that pâte brisée is savoury, whereas pâte sablée is sweetened. It tasted really strange!

We haven’t put them off completely, however; they’re a lovely young couple, quite a bit younger than our own kids, who are enthusiastic, strong and more than willing to work. We did a couple of hours of forest clearing today and it made an enormous difference as Gwenaëlle could carry more than I can and Valentin could carry as much as both of us. Clearing the wood is looking like a realistic possibility now.

A tale of hard work, wood elves and more hard work

Once upon a time, between the vineyard and, well, another vineyard, in deepest, Armagnac-soaked France, there lived a couple of Nayatubs (not-as-young-as-they-used-to-be’s); that’s not to say they felt any older in their heads than they used to – far from it; but they were finding hard physical work took longer and that their arms seemed to have shortened when they wanted to read. This didn’t prevent them, however, from volunteering to help when the need arose.

They were looking at the wood pile as the nights started drawing in, when Mr Nayatub announced that there may not be enough to see them through the winter; they’d have to look into buying some more.

And suddenly, out of nowhere, or maybe there was a puff of smoke; there appeared the wood elf, in the form of Patrick, the village Maire. “I come with tidings of great joy” he said, or words to that effect. “In thanks for your voluntary work, the commune would like to give you a present of 10 cubic metres of firewood”. And without even a puff of smoke, as that would be against health and safety regulations, there appeared a large, neatly stacked pile of oak. The Nayatubs were delighted; they thanked the wood elf and everybody lived happily ever after.

Ah well, it’s a nice dream and some of it’s true; but after telling us about the wood, Patrick added that it just needs collecting from the forest. The commune sold the oaks from a patch of forest a couple of years ago; barrel makers got the best wood, mainly the trunks, cabinet makers the next and what remains has been divided up among the volunteer workers. There are some huge pieces and other bits are smaller, but they all need chainsawing to length, dragging to the edge of our plot and stacking. Patrick said someone with a tractor would bring them to the house for us.

It’s extremely hard work; we can only do a couple of hours at a time and though Nick doesn’t seem to be suffering too badly, I’m not sure my shoulders and wrists will ever be the same again!

So we’ve signed up with Helpx, a work/accommodation exchange scheme and have a young French couple arriving on Saturday. They’re both into bodybuilding, so we’re hoping they’ll be strong enough to make a difference. Watch this space!