I was becoming concerned about the floor in the upstairs bedroom. Mrs S might have been delirious about the terra cotta tiles, and I had to agree that the wavy floor added character to the room, but too many tiles were cracking and breaking along the ridges of the waves.
so happened that Sue and Alan, an English coule living in France, had replaced the terra cotta tiles in
their house with more modern ones and the old tiles were stacked in her
shed. Every now and then she would take a few of them to the local tip.
She told me she would be very happy if I took what I wanted as
replacements for my broken tiles: at least that would be few less for
her to dispose of.
My friend Chris and I went over to collect some.
Unfortunately, few of them were real terra cotta and many were
paint-stained. However, we sorted through them, picking out the best
before loading the boot with as many as we thought the car could carry.
We stacked them in one of the sheds before going back for a second
load, and then a third.
But not only were those tiles made of
something other than terra cotta, they were also smaller than those in
our bedroom. Undaunted, Chris and I worked out that we could lift
sufficient tiles from one corner of the bedroom to replace the broken
ones and then lay the replacements all together in one patch. It might
mean some jiggery-pokery, but we thought we could manage it. We
arranged a tentative date to do the job.
The other day I posted a picture of the door of St Nicholas church, Chateaubriant. Here is another view.