Brico Marche

I can finally get to the curtain rods

I finally bought a real stepladder.  The ceilings are high and the light fixtures are recessed; it is impossible for me to reach them, and I tried standing on my tallest chair.  (Which is dangerous these days)  Even on of those dainty, cute little kitchen ladders that help short French women reach the top shelves wasn't tall enough to reach the curtain rods.  I checked with my local hardware store, which I like to patronize even though it is expensive, the proprietor takes such delight in teaching this poor old American woman.  And I am committed to supporting local Bastide businesses; I want them to stick around.  But he had only the aforementioned kitchen ladders so I was forced to go to one of the local "box" hardware stores--the French equivalent of Home Depot to get a real stepladder.

Replaced the ratty old paper ball shades with new ones

New bulb looks like an eye

 I went out to Pont Rouge, to Brico Marche, bought the ladder and brought it home, all on the bus.  The driver remarked that it looked like a "work project" was in my future!  Funny thing about living here, and maybe it's true of all cities, but it's not out of the ordinary to see people bringing things like stepladders, and clothes racks, long wooden dowling, on the bus and carrying it through the streets.  It's all rather commonplace and I didn't feel in the least bit self-conscious doing it, whereas in the States, I would have received a number of quizzical looks.  The sound of luggage being wheeled up and down to and from the train station is an every day, nearly constant song of the streets here.  Back in Brookings, only homeless people wheeled their belongings down the street.  Such is a car-dependent society.

This gets replaced next--in the closet

Brought it home on the bus

I have overcome my fear of phone conversations (well, almost) but buying light bulbs still strikes terror in my heart.  Once I got the ladder home, and opened and removed the offending burned out bulbs, I had to make another trip to the Brico Marche for replacements.  Light bulbs in France are not standardized.  There are fat screw ends, skinny screw ends, and there bulbs with no threads at all, but rather they just push in.  I still do not understand wattage numbers, voltage, and what bulbs will cause fixtures or lamps to blow up.  I would rather clean toilets for days than shop for light bulbs.

Toilet room fixture--bought a new and safer one

But the fine young man at Brico Marche took me under his wing and fixed me right up.  He even took my old bulbs for recycling.  He was so pleased with himself that he could help this poor old lady who obviously had NO clue as to what she needed.  And I have been able to put aside my prideful "I can do it myself" attitude and ask for help here.  I don't care if they think I am stupid.  

You never know which one to buy

It took two trips to Brico Marche, but I have managed to illuminate me home, and hang a set of curtains at one window.  Next on the agenda is to complete window washing, now that I can reach the top panes.  I will wait for a little cooler weather for that task.  Living the dream!