Vide Maison

Inevitably, when one moves to another country, one makes friends within the ex-pat community. In Lodève there was a 'workshop' where we went to learn French, and met newcomers from other countries too. There were also social occasions there, when we met French people, who attended 'workshop' to learn English. A perfect balance! Although this 'workshop' subsequently closed, we retained friends that we had met there. Sadly , as the years passed, some of these friends chose to, or were compelled to return 'home.' Sometimes, I wonder whether it might have been simpler to have made my life in the more stable community where I grew up. But then, I wouldn't have missed these years in France for anything. What's more, our countries are enriched when newcomers bring with them new exciting traditions and foodstuffs, and different expertises. How boring it would be if we all lived in homogenous cultures.

For the past twenty five years we have built a new life here. We renovated our house; managed the land; and even built a second house from the old caretakers cottage , to which we welcomed guests. There was much work to be done, and new furnishings to acquire. Sadly, that life has slowed down. What's more , as the years have passed, some of the friends we made, have left. Yesterday we watched as some close friends also made their preparations to leave. They have built a house, and created the most beautiful and productive garden imaginable, in a beautiful but arid quarter of this region. Now, sadly, it is time for them to pack up and leave. Thy must return to their homeland. The trouble is, just like we have done over the past twenty odd years, they have acquired a lot of things: furniture and tools; kitchen artefacts; beautiful paintings and so on. Yesterday, they organised a house sale , inviting local villagers to come along and buy. We went along too , in order to help with this.

This way to the 'Vide maison.' sale

Our friends' most precious possessions and furnishings were put to one side, to be transported overseas, to furnish their new home. Everything else had already been priced up and was now adorning every available surface, both inside and out. These ranged from corkscrews and wine glasses to lawn mowers , pressure washers and garden tools. B. and I were to help with sales outdoors. Soon, local villagers arrived, and sales commenced. All went well. As we tidied things away, we knew that these unsold items would be taken the next day by a 'brocante' (or antique/second hand store ).

But ,wait a minute...what about the animals?.....

Their air tickets are booked!

During a lull in sales, I sneaked away to say my farewell to this beautiful garden with its tranquil swimming pool and the pond with its magnificent water lilies in spring, and vociferous frogs.

When the sale was over, we joined our friends for lunch where we discussed that morning's successes. Sadly, one remarkable item remained unsold. This was the most beautiful handmade mandolin, in a special tapestry case. How I wish I had taken a picture of this( This one pictured is a different mandolin.) Mandolins belong to the lute family and have four courses of double strings, tuned in unison. The price asked was nothing like its original cost. A group of young hikers had seen the signs, and wandered into the sale earlier that morning. One young man, who actually played the mandolin, fell in love with this one. He debated its purchase , saying he might return. Sadly, by lunch time it remained unsold. After lunch we made our farewells, and returned home; Not long afterwards we received a note from a friend . The young man had returned that afternoon. The mandolin now has a new home, where it will be played and enjoyed...a happy ending to a rather sad occasion.