But weren’t you allowed even to drive it Shiba, which I think was the point being made by @Helenochka ?
I remember it being illegal for a non resident to drive a car they don’t ‘own’ but I thought there was no problem with a spouse doing so.
Our Saxo that we arrived with here was certainly only in my name, but Fran used it regularly while I was away all week. So either the law has changed or she was in jeopardy of prosecution for many years.
Come to think about it, she was a named driver on all 3 of our cars by the insurance, so surely they would have pointed out the transgression if there was one?
There’s no problem with the spouse driving the car as long as the owner is alive, David. Provided that spouse is insured obviously.
The problem only arises if the sole owner dies.
My husband’s been driving our car for years, even though he’s not named on the carte grise. No problem whatsoever.
Yes I was allowed to drive it with the permission of my children who didn’t care because basically it was mine anyway but the dealer only put OH on the CG when we took delivery of it new. Anyway a couple of months later, I sold it and had to have the CG in my name for that anyway and got another new car which I have to this day, 12 years later and less than 40,000kms from new on the clock. I don’t think the law car about such things, they are more interested in the insurance side of things.
Again, it’s far more of an issue for us because we live in the city centre. With no offroad parking. Only the person named on the carte grise can obtain a resident’s parking permit. If I died around renewal time, my husband wouldn’t be able to get a new parking permit for our car until his name was on the carte grise.
Life is so much simpler when you have a driveway.
The good news is that Fran’s son Dave, who lives in Eire, readily and immediately sent me his documents, required by the notaire to advance the succession. The first communication we have had for over 10 years even though we had a good relationship when we lived in England.
Daughter Sue, who is also apparently looking after her other brother, Steven’s, documents hinted the other day that they wouldn’t take part any more on the grounds that the money thus eventually released from Fran’s savings account would go towards the headstone because half of it, and the double grave, would be used by me and should therefore be my debt not Fran’s.
Perhaps at Dave’s acknowledgement of my urging to persuade his sister otherwise, hers and Steven’s arrived in my inbox this morning.
So now we have the full set, at last, and I can soon put all this behind me and concentrate on looking after Fran’s current abode while keeping it warm for my eventual arrival. Sometimes I feel that that is not too far distant.
Only one possible fly in the ointment. Unlike France where everyone has to have ID, in Britain it is not the case and it appears that the 2 who remain there do not have passports. Thus I need to ask the notaire what other evidence will be accepted.
Maybe this should be in cheerful news bearing in mind my travails with the notaire recently. I received an email from them yesterday, a test because theirs don’t alway get through, in both directions, and my reply didn’t bounce back from whatever in the universe controls such things.
So fingers crossed, but just to make sure I’ll go there again today, without a rdv, and see if I can move things a bit further on.
I’ll take a copy of the 2 remaining kids’ docs, minus passports which they don’t have, and see if they can suggest a different document to satisfy French bureaucracy.
Should be in Cheerful News really I suppose but not everyone is cheerful about death and headstones.
I got the bill yesterday from the masons, not the ones with funny handshakes but the other lot.
The price was a little less than I thought but before paying it I went down to see if it meant they had finished. And they had, and it is much better than I ever thought it would be. If you are happy looking at graves, here it is.
It looks like you’ve got a good solid granite edifice which will retain the name engraving for a long time.
My Dad’s ashes are interred in our local churchyard and his grave marker (no pun intended) was made of slate, and the writing has almost completely worn away (since 2007).
When my Mum goes and she joins him there I will get a new marker slab in a much more durable material.
Yes, but much more room, she won’t be chasing me out of this one. It was always a joke between us that as I retained body heat and she lost it, even sleeping she was cuddled up to me at night and, as a result I, retreating from the inferno, was almost forced out of it. I countered by, even in winter, flapping my side of the duvet up and over to allow cool air in.
I have some pot plants that I have gathered in the garden and will be taking them down there tomorrow as a start. The one remaining, at least for this season (?) of @JaneJones’ cluster, the flowerless but beautifully white bordered green leaved plant will be staying here, The large pot they are in would be too heavy to move without risk of breaking it but, if someone (@toryroo saw it and might know it’s name and habits ) tells me the others won’t come back next year, I will transplant that one and take it down there too.
It is, and not what I expected. If you look at the 3rd pic, to the next door but one, the plaque there looks like plastic and I thought that was what they were going to do, but the one they have done may not be so resilliant but it looks much better.
The whole thing was way over schedule, it was ordered back in June and promised for November 1st. I thought perhaps the granite was coming from Aberdeen and that Gill, Fran’s former first aide who hails from there, had been charged with fetching it. She has been a stalwart though dealing with the mason and hurrying him along, in his devis he got Fran’s name wrong. She has agreed to be the kingpin if anything should happen to me, liaising with Marie-Paule to share out the phone calls necessary between them.
Yes indeed, I wonder how many elderly people living alone without close family around think of ‘what if?’
Of course the dogs are the most immediate concern, and that is sorted, and the kids will just have to wait on the notaire’s pleasure. But have a thought for the poor old mason who refused to accept my first downpayment at the outset, and the mid term one, who may have to wait 10 years for his more than 4 grand if I kick the bucket on my way to the post office in the morning.
Thought I’d play it safe and stay at home and pay them by virement (bank transfer). Fell at the last hurdle (see post in Banking) but fortunately no injuries, except to my poor old brain.
My son calls me every evening tocheck in. I now have to leave the key out of the door so if necessary he can enter. This was the reason I moved from my home of 30 previous years because of being alone with only two really good neighbours to depend on. Brings it home to you sometimes, just how vulnerable people on their own really are!
) tells me the others won’t come back next year, I will transplant that one and take it down there too. 