Warland is exploding

We’re both fine and our projects are slowly moving forward. Monica has the Drawing Room gutted, from packed earth to next door’s floorboards, restoring the correct materials and eliminating recent botches. She was rewarded with two hidden alcoves containing newspapers and the previous wall light brackets: clearly, Ralph objected to his wife’s plaster-boarding over everything!

Tom Warland’s lime trees were joined by 1,800 others and almost all are doing well. I’m continuing the monthly time-lapse shots: on this one you can see the willow coppice but most others are still hidden in the weeds. The lime are doing well, though, as you can see.



I’m doing more research because I’m drafting a Statement of Significance to support our application for changes to the Mickle Barn planning permission. A Lancaster Uni professor gave us a lecture on such research, pointing out that the world is moving on from generic historic listings of windows and chimneys. For example: Council insist we use stone or imitation slate roof tiles when the barn originally had corrugated iron, ‘cos the farmer had a brain in his head. We know this from photos, the roof construction and Ralph’s memory of the sheets blowing off in the ‘60s. What’s best: replace with iron and illustrate the original construction; or put up the same as every other barn, regardless of age?

Anyway, that’s my current challenge. Interestingly, though, I fell over this new reference:


which led me to:


George left England as a quarryman and farm hand in 1838? He might have come from here, and moved to Salisbury en route. And there was a Warland’s Farm in South Australia! I wonder if I’ve been there?  Let’s presume, irrationally, that Ellen, George’s eldest, inherited William Warland’s Farm and bore her children there: I’ve actually stayed at that Stone Hut, now a hostel near Laura. Wild. There it is, behind her in the photograph. Now I have to rename my boat, “The Forlorn Hope”.

It’s a crazy, mixed up world =:D

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