I can hardly bear to write this. Last Thursday a solar engineer called at Greenwood to fix a faulty sensor and found the ground floor full of water. A mains water pipe had split and possibly thousands of gallons of (thankfully) clean water had cascaded out. We believe it probably happened only a few hours earlier because the gardeners had watered the new turf earlier in the day and hadn't noticed a problem with the water pressure.
With a big sheepskin rug on the floor and the fire alight, it was really cosy for our first stay at Greenwood, just 2 weekends ago. And waking to the dawn chorus outside our east-facing bedroom was just magical.
This was the scene found by the solar engineer, in the area between the living room and the shower room next to the plant room. Some of the water had poured down the shower waste, apparently, so the flush shower tray was a good thing. I've been really struggling to stay positive about all this. That it wasn't foul water or a fire are about the only crumbs of comfort we can glean.
The beautiful burr oak kitchen is irreplaceable and it was that that kept us awake on Thursday night, worrying, after we heard about the catastrophe. I went down early on Friday and was joined by Nathan. He dismantled it, piece by piece and he and I carried part of it to the drier area of the living room and laid it on its side. Nathan found, to our mutual relief, that it dosen't look as if water has got into the end-grain. This is the island unit (how ironic are the terms "island unit" and "floating floor", now?) and he could wind up the carcase legs and get it clear of the wet oak boards.
You may recognise some of the lads. They are part of the team that built the house and came over early on Saturday, to help carry the burr oak elements away for dry storage in Barnstaple. They were genuinely and touchingly, upset to see the devastation. By Saturday the oak floorboards were already cupped and several of the doors , to walk-in cupboards and ground floor rooms, were binding against the swollen floor boards. The huge, heavy sliding door from the kitchen to the south terrace wouldn't close, once I'd opened it; the threshhold is swollen and it has pushed the door outwards. Luckily, Joe Ford appeared and fixed it, temporarily. Just as well because at that point on Friday, I was close to losing it altogether and just putting my head back and howling.
By Saturday evening, between us, we'd moved all that could be moved up to the top floor and there it will have to stay until the repair work has been done. It is likely to be months and months because all the ground floor oak boards will have to be replaced and the lead-time for new boards of that spec is at least 8 weeks. Then there's the doors and the redecoration and re-instatement of the kitchen. The water company, whose pipe split, immediately admitted their responsibility and it will all be covered by their insurance.
It will all be ok, I'm sure and it could have been so much worse. And looking out over this view in the evening with the dramatic skies and wonderful shades of green, helps to put it all into perspective, too.
