Our House is Not in Paris by Susan Cutsforth Read Free Book Online Page B

extraordinary coincidence, for not only was it the name of the previous owner of our house but it also means ‘the foot of the cross’. Despite other maisons in our village sharing our carefully chosen name, we decided to keep the link to our petite maison ’s past. So, now, the house and the barn would each have a name. Jean-Claude told us in an email later that
    Regarding la forge, there were several in the village since horses had to be attended to and Mr Dal’s house was a relay for postilions and carriages. The house next to yours was indeed a forge and café in old times since the two went together for people thirsty from travel in sun, heat or cold, dust, and the fire of the forge!
    Monsieur Dal was the man we bought our petite maison from. The original owners were de la Croix. You can see their name carved into the golden stone outside the heavy barn doors. Another layer of history and meaning.
    Pied de la Croix is the small district where our house is, as opposed to the bourg (city centre) where Jean-Claude and Françoise’s house, Le Vieux Prieuré, is. There is a cross by the ex forge, and the cross sort of dominates a small area, hence the appellation ‘pied de la croix’. It makes it sound like a large town when, in fact, it is a small village of only about 300 people. Le Vieux Prieuré, or the old priory, is most definitely not in a city centre! Our village doesn’t even have a single shop any longer. However, the room that is right on the street of Le Vieux Prieuré was originally a shop. It is the only part of Le Vieux Prieuré you can glimpse, as the rest is hidden behind high stone walls; outside is a bell you can pull to announce your arrival. It is now Françoise’s guest room and the place she chooses to iron, for, hidden behind her lace curtains, she can keep an eye on all the comings and goings in our village.

La Forge
    Did I mention the barn? Now, the barn is a mere four metres from our house and yet it took us five days — yes, five whole days — before we had time to venture in and explore it. We certainly intended to every single day but time always overtook us. That was despite getting up very early and staying up far, far later than I absolutely ever do at home. The house got under my skin in a way that I could never have possibly anticipated. It was like no other renovation we had undertaken before. Likewise, it was two whole weeks before we finally managed to walk around our village. It seems ridiculous in retrospect, but time was always rapidly ebbing.
    The barn. How can I describe it? It is huge and needs lots and lots of work to make it into a home. That will also require lots and lots of money and, for now, and a long time to come, it remains in the category of dreams. However, knowing Stuart’s passion for projects, I’m sure that one day the conversion will also become a reality. However, what was fascinating, upon seeing it for the first time, was that I could see exactly how it could be transformed into an absolutely stunning space. Equally fascinating was how the vision just came to me, considering I had never been into a single French barn in my life, let alone one that had been converted. Even before we could contemplate at what point the conversion would ever take place, it seemed to take on a life of its own. Before we knew it, the barn already had a name, La Forge. As with so many of the things we discovered about both our new home and village, Jean-Claude brought it all to life for us. We also found out the owners of our petite maison made their money from the elusive truffles. What a pity there are no longer any left for us to make our fortune.
    Back to the road and how it turned out to be such a stroke of good fortune and the source of our wonderful new friends. A few days after meeting Jean-Claude, a car pulled up in the front of our little house. It was Jean-Claude and his delightful wife, Françoise. When we