The big day arrives

Ok I know I know it's been teeth-gritting suspense since my last entry. On the cusp of taking possession of the house, and not a word since. Weeks of silence, what could they mean? Busy busy? Complete disaster? Have we been swallowed up by ghosts? Well now, dear reader, at last the silence breaks, revealing all in the glory of bright and clear morning light. Our house is... well, perhaps I'm getting ahead of myself. Let's go back to where we left off.

We woke as planned in Bordeaux, and, also as planned went to Ikea after breakfast in order to secure some basic necessities. What a place Ikea is. Anyway, that morning's haul netted us some pillows and a duvet, a set of kids' plastic plates and cups, a step-stool for Kepler to pee atop of, and some finger puppets. Heady stuff. We wanted a basic futon as well, but the car was just too full. Alas. And just as these details may seem numbing to you, did the entire Ikea experience to me. So we left, and beguiled the hours before our afternoon appointment with a quick trip to the supermarket, and then a picnic along the banks of the Dordogne river, just a mile or two from our future house. Tantalizingly close. We watched the trout playing hide-and-seek with one another in the reeds by the riverside, and strolled along the paths, finding a castle, a mansion, a mill, and a supercool caterpillar who looked more like a real leaf than any bug I've ever encountered. But throughout the day was a sense of giddiness, an I-can't-believe-it sort of thrill. Despite the quiet of the moments, everything was happening. The day was magnificent, the vineyards hung with bright purple clusters of grapes, the trees had not yet begun to change colors. Everything was made surreal by the very reality of it. We were actually here -- and here was a paradise-- and so many of our long-held ideas were about to transcend, from abstract to concrete, to materialize and become fact. We were on a cusp.

Finally the time came to head to Castillon, which would be one of our nearby towns after the deal was completed, to complete the deal. The notaire's office was easy to find, and Madame Baillet, the owner of our house, was sitting in the waiting room when we entered. Soon Steve the estate agent appeared, and finally we were shown into the office.

Talk about a painstaking process! Page after page of small print in French, elaborately explained, and confirmed by each party, then initialled and signed, and then on to the next page. But finally, it was done, everything was in order, and we were presented with papers of ownership. Mme. Baillet gave me the keys, and we agreed to meet her at the house for a walk-through a bit later. After all, we need to learn how to run the water heater and where the fuses are, etc.

And giddy with excitement, we returned to Hydrangea, and drove... home!