I moved here from California, at a time when we had had drought for nearly five years. I had a xeriscape garden and a spring out back. Still, the water bill was 300 a month for two of us, our low-flow appliances and a relatively small suburban garden. It rarely rained and never froze. When I moved I knew I wanted a place with water and I was willing to put up with a certain amount of inclement weather to do that. I got both.
I hadn’t realized what that does to a house. When I bought this place I thought stone house, newish slate roof, no problem. I had no clue what persistent rain and wind would do to the wooden shutters, windows and doors. I thought the rotting wood must be half a century old.
I’m not so sure any more. I have new wood all over the place and I am wondering whether it can handle more than a decade of 80 km/hour winds — believe it ir not the winds are worse up north in Brittany and, I believe, down just to the south — and drenching rain that just stays put because for months it never truly warms up, never dries out. I am foreseeing a future where I am the crazy lady in the ramshackle house because I just don’t want to deal with contractors any more. In the photo you can see a patio table that blew over and had its glass top smashed. Ramshackle furniture! Augh, it’s starting!
Once and done is more my speed. I may be stuck with the shutters and windows — sunk cost and all — but I am looking forward to having those old, leaky doors replaced by steel ones.
The rain itself is a great novelty. I’m enjoying it and enjoying the excuse it gives to web surf. I may be the last Francophile on earth to have seen this but at last I did. Don’t I wish it were reality!