The French Builder's Life
The man's putting down chipboard. 75 meters of the stuff and I had the enviable job of getting a price from our local builders merchant's merchant, Mr Daste. Mr Daste, and Mrs Daste, and any number of little Dastes all live in a new unattractive villa on the main road in to town and only an exterior staircase away from the yard.
The convenience of living right next to the workplace scores every time for the french. It means they can get home for lunch. Quickly. The requisite two hour lunch break, not being interrupted or shortened by any unnecessary travelling to and fro, is then a full two hours. This is far more important than the fact that the house and home is stuck right next to a builder's yard. It simply would never do in England would it?
The English would far rather take a two hour trip in the Mondeo, get stuck in traffic all the way out to the ring road, and grab a tasteless pointless sandwich for lunch at the office desk. Anything, absolutely anything mark you, rather than have the house next to a place of work which would inevitably impact on the price of their modernised Edwardian semi in yet another 'up and coming' area. But then the English don't stop for a four course family lunch, take seven weeks holiday a year, work a 35 hour week, keep their weekends sacred and still manage to be the 5th most efficient economy in the world. They prefer a £200,000 mortgage and being at the office desk by 8am. Ummmm. Think I'll go for the builder's yard myself.
The convenience of living right next to the workplace scores every time for the french. It means they can get home for lunch. Quickly. The requisite two hour lunch break, not being interrupted or shortened by any unnecessary travelling to and fro, is then a full two hours. This is far more important than the fact that the house and home is stuck right next to a builder's yard. It simply would never do in England would it?
The English would far rather take a two hour trip in the Mondeo, get stuck in traffic all the way out to the ring road, and grab a tasteless pointless sandwich for lunch at the office desk. Anything, absolutely anything mark you, rather than have the house next to a place of work which would inevitably impact on the price of their modernised Edwardian semi in yet another 'up and coming' area. But then the English don't stop for a four course family lunch, take seven weeks holiday a year, work a 35 hour week, keep their weekends sacred and still manage to be the 5th most efficient economy in the world. They prefer a £200,000 mortgage and being at the office desk by 8am. Ummmm. Think I'll go for the builder's yard myself.
posted by Fran Nustedt at
11:00 AM
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