Rain 11 degrees
It so happens in February that you get bored with doing the same things every day. Getting up. Doing the dishes. Sweeping the floor. Kicking the dog out the back door to do his business - dog is in his basket with one paw over his eyes and is pretending that the day has not yet started. Cleaning the ashes out of the wood burning stove. Sweeping up the floor where the ashes decided to burst out of the grate. Plumping the cushions. Picking up socks.
And you think to yourself, this is like Ground Hog Day and when you look; it is.
My aim of sweeping aside the competition for entering the most mandates in January and February has faltered, largely due to obdurate sellers who say they have enough agencies. I have never had so many people say no. Do they not know I have a challenge en cours? I finally manage to get one person to say yes and drive out today to have a look at it.
The address is Place du Fronton which sounds like it would be in the middle of the village. It is a very, very long village and it turns out that the Place is right on the very end of it, and next to a busy road, which probably accounts for its not having sold in two years.
It is a solid looking house which has grown over a period of time. It is painted a very solid colour which is somewhere between Suffolk Pink and Blood Orange. Two dogs the size of small ponies erupt from a side barn and invite me to come in and be eaten. The owner comes out and assures me that they are gentil and have yet to breakfast on estate agent.
Yet another divorce and it looks like the lady took all the nice furniture. We sit down in the kitchen at what looks like a former painting table. The dogs smile at me and take up most of the floor space. He gives me black coffee and the dogs insist on having half my sugar. Their breath is atrocious. We then do the tour and it is a substantial property and will do for a client I have at the start of next week. He signs the paperwork and I go into town to have a look around.
It is the Annual Rusty Tractor Fair. For those not interested in rusty tractors, there are many other rusty items to admire. A loudspeaker voice informs the confused people, milling in the town centre, that there is a vide grenier and exposition extending over five hectares. He doesn't enlighten us as to where exactly that might be... I finally find it at the very far end of town and it is starting to rain; the light and persistent kind which makes you extremely wet almost without you noticing it. There is a stall selling strange jewellery and, oh joy, very reasonably priced jewellery findings. I pocket 10 sachets of various items for just a fiver and head home.