When “oui” means “non” OR don’t dream it’s over OR “c’est complique et c’est comme ça”

When we last wrote, we had found the “coup de coeur”…the French house of our dreams. After visiting more than 80 (that’s quatre vingt) properties and driving 1000s kilometers we found one that checked all the boxes and then some.  Beautiful, old (XIIeme, XVeme and XVIIIeme siecles), calm.  It had everything we needed and more.  Sure it was going to be work…but ANY

property we take on is going to be work.  This place, though, was special.

So we made an offer in writing, in the proper French manner.  We had learned that the house owned by three people, two sisters and a brother.  They had inherited the property jointly…not unusual in France.  The eldest sister (“Madame”) lived on site.  We were told that she controlled things and that she liked us.

It turns out that both those statements were true. Madame did/does control things AND she did like us (or so she says…!?!).  It also turns out that there was more to it.

Our original offer was countered and we agreed upon a price.  Excitement ensued.  We revised the amount of our offer and ordered a “survey/inspection” of the property (because of its age) that had been a condition of the offer.  Pas de problem!  The survey occurred and was “tres bon”…meaning that there WAS a lot of work that had to be done (i.e. replace the electric system, replace and upgrade septic system, fencing, etc.) but there were NO hidden surprises.  Excitement GREW.

The next thing that happened was that Madame requested we come up to discuss “furnishings”–as in, what things we might like to acquire with the house and other “details.”  We set a date, booked our favorite Air BnB (again) and ultimately made the two-hour drive to visit with Mme. We also took the opportunity to meet with a couple of artisans (or contractors, as they are called in the U.S.)–specifically an electrician and septic system expert–to start the process of getting a scope of work and bid (un devis, in French).  Of course, this was done with the full knowledge and consent of Mme.  Mme. is a lovely woman in her 80s and is deserving of deference and respect.

When we arrived for our visit, we were met in the yard by the artisans and estate agent (someone who we have come to think of as a friend).  Animated conversations ensued whilst we walked around the property, in and out of the dependences (outbuildings) and, ultimately, all through the house.  Early on, Mme. came outside to greet us, but she looked a bit distraught.  It seems that she was having trouble getting some documentation about he house from her notaire.  Not to worry though…pas de problem.  Once we finished with the artisans, it was time to sit down at the dining room table, sign the revised offer and discuss furnishings. Or so we thought.

Turns out, we did sit at the dining table and we did sign a revised offer.  Everybody who needed to sign did so. It was in the form correct form (a letter of intention to sell the house at an agreed upon price, etc.) and, by its terms, it remained valid and binding for two weeks.  We never did discuss “furnishings.” After the signing and exchange of pleasantries with Mme.’s family (children and grandchildren visiting for school holidays), it was time for us to leave…and have a long lunch with the estate agent.

Lunch took place in a local bar/cafe.  A typical French lunch–multiple courses over multiple hours–soup, charcuterie, salads, main course (steak and frites (french fries) and haricot verts (green beans), coffee (we passed on dessert).  Over lunch, we get some of the back story about Mme.’s upset.  Turns out, one of the relatives doesn’t want her to sell the house.  Turns out that the “relative” is her son…who has been living in the basement for a while (following some big changes in his personal life). But not worry too much, Mme. likes us, the other owners like us and the relative doesn’t have the means to buy or maintain the house. We paid the bill, said our “au revoirs” and “â bientôts” and made the long drive home. Excited, enthused and a wee bit concerned. But we were going to Paris for the weekend to meet up with Sallie’s cousin

Of course, by now you know the rest. Two weeks passed  At her son’s behest and to the chagrin of her siblings, Mme. blocked the sale. On the Ides of March.  The offer has expired.  We are back at square one.  As of this writing, Sallie has culled through over 1000 annonces (real estate listings).  There are a few that look potentially interesting.  Not really.

More will be revealed.  Stay tuned for further adventures. There is one good…no great thing, that came out of this chapter.  We adopted Oscar, a three-month old Girffon Korthal.  Puppy energy is a healing thing.  And exhausting. We had decided to wait on getting a puppy until we had “found a place.”  Oscar arrived the day after we got back from Paris. He’s been a wonderful addition and a great distraction.  He doesn’t care that the house deal fell through.  Be like Oscar.