January 2011. The repairs were close to being finished and we were making plans to move in. However, over the last 3 or 4 years, we have learned not to hold our breath... The big move finally happened at the end of April and over a year later, we are still waiting for the the contractors to finish the last few bits of "snagging"!
February 2011: It was frustrating but in the event, good displacement activity having to get full planning permission before we could build a garage. One of the conditions imposed was that we should erect a protective fence around the oak tree at the gateway and no-one was to step within the fence...odd when we considered that the tree had stood up well throughout the build, with the traffic of heavy machinery and the two-storey site hut under its canopy. The other condition was that we should plant two or three trees around the curtilage of the house (which we'd intended to plant anyway).
Mid April: Each time we came down from Bristol, we found every pane of glass and all the stainless steel handrails and window ledges and all the pale concrete paving on the terrace covered in mess like this. It was crows, just two of them, which would perch on the handrails or the stainless steel window ledges (or stalk up and down the terrace) and were apparently so enraged by their own reflections that they attacked the glass and the timber frames and the silicone sealant. You can't really see in this view of our bedroom apex window but there are footprints, beak marks and the patterns of wing-feathers on the glass. The attacks had started in February, our neighbours informed us: they could hear the birds cawing and the thudding as they attacked the house, from early morning, right through the day, every day, except when the builders were at the house, they said.
It was terribly distressing and I spent most of 2011 cleaning. Even after we moved in, at the end of April, the crows carried on their assault. We or our visitors would be woken up at 5 or 6 am by the birds hammering at the windows. If we left the house unattended for even an hour, the crows would get to work and could cause an astonishing amount of damage in a very short time. We strung wires along the window ledges and balustrades, to no avail. We mounted 7-inch steel spikes on boards and laid them on every horizontal surface, including along the paved terrace at each threshold but the crows just pushed the spikes aside and carried on. We were under siege in our beautiful house. There is irreparable damage to the timber door-and window frames and to the silicone sealant. We offered a bounty and paid professionals to try and kill them but they are extremely wily and wary birds, carrion crows and it wasn't until December 20th 2011 that a shooter managed to kill one of the culprits, by which time my nerves were in shreds and we had spent a small fortune. The survivor came back just once, the next day but since then we have been left in peace. Maybe attacking the house isn't any fun alone or maybe the bird has pined away and died. Who knows? There are still many, many big black birds around but I am less twitchy when I see or hear one now.
Aaah..this is the life. This has to be one of the nicest places to lie in a hammock. It's sheltered from wind and rain but it's outside, so you can hear the birds and the sound of the stream. Lovely. Peter bought me a bird-feeding station for Christmas 2011. I opened the blinds and there it was, with dozens of birds fluttering around it. An absolutely mesmerising sight and I remain mesmerised. We have seen some really interesting and unusual birds, including, one day, no fewer than 5 mistle thrushes as well as woodpeckers, siskins, long-tailed tits, bullfinches, goldfinches. Roe deer stroll along the grass terrace at dawn and dusk; there are hedgehogs (we believe), and we saw a stoat the other morning.
It is said that we all live in a clearing in the forest: for most people it's a very big clearing and doesn't encroach too rapidly. However, Peter spends a lot of his time just keeping the forest at bay, hereabouts.
Or keeping the home fires burning. We hired this tracked, tipping barrow in December to bring logs up from the wood.What a splendid machine! It was during a very wet spell so the track looked like the Somme by the end of the day. These logs are from the felling of trees on the site in 2008 and are reasonably well-seasoned by now. As I write this, they are crackling away in the woodburner, which has proved itself this winter. It is the only source of heating and once the house has reached its optimum temperature (18-20 degrees C), it stays there, with the fire just ticking over. The amount of insulation, the triple glazing and the complete absence of draughts make this a very efficient and comfortable living space. The mechanical engineer calculated that this would be the case and he was right. The architects have asked if we will take part in a year-long research programme, to demonstrate the benefits and advantages of a nearly-passive design and we have agreed.
One of the early priorities was to do something about the precipitous slope down the east side of the garden. There was lots of head-scratching and back-of-envelope sketches before this design was settled on and even then, the curve of the steps evolved as they were built, to follow a path that looked right. They are settling now and already grass and other planting is softening the hard lines of oak timbers and granite chippings. It's good to be able to walk down to the wood or into the paddock (the bit of recently acquired pastureland closest to the house) without tumbling end-over-end.
We have started to make a vegetable garden, in a small triangular patch just across the lane, which we bought a year ago, along with the two fields to the east of the house. This little patch is recorded as being a vegetable garden in the 1840 tithe map and has been in pretty continuous use since then, we think. The soil is deep and fairly sticky with clay but we've added lots of manure and compost, so it's fine to work. However, in our enthusiasm to get started, we sowed runner beans much too early and they were bursting out of their cardboard tubes so I planted them out last week. Each couple of plants has a fleece jacket which I tuck around them if it's going to be frosty. They'll either do or they won't. We'll know better next year.
April 2012: Our normally sedate, seasonal, spring-fed stream.
It is one year since we were finally able to move in to the house, which is, as we hoped, both beautiful and as sustainable as we could make it. It has been a turbulent journey and Peter and I have both been changed by the experience. Thank you for sharing it with us.
