Category: How did we get here?

Monica is here and well. Fifth day after her flight and already giving me grief. Our stuff, though, isn’t due to land until the 16th so it’s unlikely to be here when Neil’s up. We’ll borrow a double air-bed; with that and the single bed, I hope he and the kids can cope. We have two good sleeping bags but they might want to bring one of theirs rather than rely on odd blankets. The central heating will be on, so it shouldn’t be too uncomfortable. We just did a mental inventory and realised that we won’t even receive sofas or beds in the first load: they either stayed until the last pack or were given away. As a result, the Christmas dinner here will be conducted exclusively at the dining tables, of which we will have ample.

Today, we met Aunt Mona plus Jane and family at Manchester airport. We couldn’t offer a lot of assistance beyond pushing trolleys and the loan of a hat; and I hope we weren’t too pesky. Mona has rented a house in York for them all. I don’t know what they’ll be up for in a week or so’s time; perhaps we can pop over there while Neil is here or maybe they’d like to see the farm. I’ll play that by ear. Jane did say she’d love to see Neil, though. Their eldest reminded Monica of Rowan and the boy is around Mitchell’s age by the look of him. Didn’t really have time to get to know much about the kids except that they’re very giggly. Charlie looks like, and apparently has been mistaken for, Howard’s son. They’ll be going to see the old scrote because of that bond. Mona agreed that they don’t know him well enough to be wary.

Neil’s clock just chimed the half hour; it has been very reliable and accurate. The wall clock is silent because it gets stuck trying to raise its hammer to strike and I’d rather get it fixed than repeatedly force it.

Jeff, the odd-job guy, and his carpenter friend are close to finishing the floor for the workshop area of the Shippen. It’ll make a grand clog-dancing platform for Kevin until the tools arrive. The carpenter is the kind of guy who comes across stuff and has already found me a wood-lathe and chisels for cheap. Also, Dave from next door has confirmed that he’d like to bring his metalwork lathe, milling machine and a few other bits to live in there. Gonna be a fun place to hang out!

It snowed yesterday so we dove out to buy emergency food while we could get down the hill. We almost had to catch the bus and train to the airport today. Waiting for documentation from DVLA to allow me to get Angela on the road to save such embarrassment.

Tomorrow, Monica is bringing her Mammy out: Daddy asked that we mind her while he goes to a Proctor & Gamble reunion. It’ll be the first trial of this arrangement but I’m sure all will go well because Kitty is great fun and good company. She still hides most of her forgetfulness very well. On Sunday we have a bit of a feast happening with a few different lots here for the day: Monica’s school friend, Kevin’s mob and a Treesponsibility guy.

Keith, the last of these, is also a founder-member of Blackbark, Hebden coppicing specialists, so I’m keen to hear what he advises after a site visit. This Thursday, the meadows specialist visits, too. Along with reading our growing library, we’re learning very quickly from all of these various sources. It’s all very puzzling: what species will grow here, how to design the plot etc. Even questions like, “What wood burns best?”, seem generate many different opinions. Hey ho.

Monica seems not too affected by jet-lag. Since she arrived, at 5-ish on Friday afternoon, we have been into Manchester, shopping, yesterday and visited the Calderdale towns today. The farmers’ shop and I persuaded her to buy some English-made wellies and a wooly hat.

The dance-floor is going well in the shippen: most of the joists and stumps are in place, leaving the noggins and sheet for Monday. Over a brew, we were discussing power options for Tony’s shed. The chippy said the usual solution, used at roadside cafés etc, is to mount a generator as far away as possible in a well-insulated box with the far side open to send the noise and fumes away.

We’re off to the Hebden Bridge cinema tonight to see the new version of Wuthering Hieights. As if we’re not sufficiently wuthered already. We’ve had some good rain and a drop in temperatures since Monica arrived, unfortunately. Need to get those emergency supplies in soon, though the Land Rover has now passed its MOT and only awaits re-registration before it can rescue us from snow-drifts and other inclemencies.

There’s a car, upside-down, on the road below. It must have crashed, speeding on that fast bend, while we were in the kitchen. We heard nothing but it’s a sobering view. I had earlier explained to Monica that, to turn right into Warland Gate End, one must be sure that there’s no oncoming traffic, around the bend, overtaking in the middle of the road. Lesson underlined, I think.

I’m jealous of the range of plants Tony is getting into his hedgerow. It isn’t yet clear what species will survive here. I had a 100 yards of post-and-rail fence installed, from the green bridge up the boundary, because the cows and horses that are being let to graze here are doing some damage and to keep them out will need a substantial deterrent. Ralph has found the details of the guy to whom he let the grazing, so I can inform him that his animals’ days on Warland Farm are numbered. The fence is six feet in from the derelict stone wall to avoid having to dig out buried stone; this gives me scope to plant a reasonably protected hedgerow between. We’re waiting for further visits from the community groups who can help and advise with this. On Thursday we have the meadows expert here for an initial look-around.

Anyway, I have to settle the fire to keep the dog warm while we’re out, so I’ll finish there. More instalments soon.

Monica is still asleep or lying awake, excited, while I’m watching the clock. I suppose there are less hours before she sets off, taking the long check-in deadlines into account.

Dave, from the cottage, has just been in to ask if I’m serious about housing his metalworking tools. He’ll make an inventory when he’s at his Mum’s over Christmas; it sounds like he’ll be happy with one wall. The flooring of the workshop starts tomorrow but can’t finish until some of the material arrives on Friday.

I took the opportunity to borrow a vacuum cleaner so that I can clean up Bandit’s mess before you arrive: she’s such an untidy dog. Karin left all the dusting mops and cloths that I need to have the place in reasonable order. It’s just about ready for it so I’d say we need to clean about once a month. That’s good because it’ll coincide with bath night!

The moon set nicely over the hills opposite, tonight. It’s the first time I noticed it from the parlour window: without the tides to observe, there’s not such an incentive to note its waxing and waning.

The first stretch of fence is up, nice and strong, with our own kissing gate. Can’t wait to test it! Ralph found his receipt for £450 for last year’s cow grazing on Warland Farm. The good news is that the cow-owner’s name is on the paper so I can go ask him to stop when we’re ready.

I think I’ve worked out an easier way to divert the spring from behind the shippen, by cutting a trench diagonally uphill from behind the barn. I’d quite like to get digging to clear out behind the barn soon; it’s a job that has to be done, no matter what. After the recent rain, there’s a lot of water flowing through the barn walls and across the back floor which can’t be doing the structure any good.

I got one quote to insure Angela, the Land Rover IIA: £300, fully comprehensive. Not bad. If the Co-op are anywhere near it, I’ll give them the business, though. I didn’t realise they were in the game until recently. They’re very active with Internet advertising for their services.

There was discussion at Jessica’s dinner about the state of the road. They didn’t like either of my two ideas: let it collapse to stop the car-parking business; or get the road adopted by council. They want to have a nice, tidy road that everyone pays for fairly, though they have no idea how to engage the car-business guy.

I found some different wood in a new part of the wood-pile. Dense and hard, it burns slowly with good heat unlike the birch and softwood offcuts that have warmed me so far. I’m encouraged that the firebox stove will be even better when we get some proper wood laid in. Both Jeff, the odd-job guy, and Denver, one of his mates, have access to timber offcuts. Jeff is bringing some stair-manufacturer’s waste up on Friday. Denver gets the long, thin strips removed to make boards from rough timber; this is much better suited to the wood oven and the pottery kiln. That they both can get stuff indicates that there’s plenty available nearby; there are lots of furniture works still hanging on to their mills. There’s a certified green-waste recycler in Sowerby Bridge that has cheap waste from tree-surgeons etc—he’ll only deliver six miles but, when we get our own truck or trailer…

Denver also left the card of a mate who ‘does chimneys’. After a chat with Dave, next door, we’ll probably want to open up the flue in the other room soon. It’s inhospitable without it and I doubt we want to run the central heating just to warm that room. I calculated that the Aga uses 10 litres of fuel per day, so a full, 1,100 litre tank will easily keep us going for three months. The current cost of kerosene makes that £6 per day. I’ve ordered more, so that the tank is nearly full over the holiday season. Didn’t like the idea of ordering a delivery at New Year, with snow and ice about.

Ralph’s clock has a habit of stopping at twenty-five past bedtime. It goes fine, all day, but jams up overnight while trying to raise its arm to strike one of the late half hours. I’ve located a couple of quality horologists, in Rochdale and Halifax, that can see to it when we have some money to spare. Neil’s clock is in excellent condition and very reliable, so I always have one chiming to remind me to check the other.

Bandit’s coat has had a bit more use because it’s been wetter these last few days. She’s not used to it yet, and will probably never work out how to step backwards into it, but is starting to associate it with going walking and so has decided to tolerate it. She’s not the only dog in a coat, either, so there’s no need for her to be embarrassed.

One of the first jobs Monica’s likely to want to do is to buy a telly. I was going to ask Al’s advice but I’m enjoying not having a telly for a while. There are plenty of cheap places to buy such things in the nearby towns but there are also a few local dealers who would be very glad of our business. Everyone knows everyone, of course, so it should be easy to get a recommendation. Karin suggested the B&Q surplus store in Rochdale and I had a look in there yesterday; it was so depressing I couldn’t stay to look around. I’m still keen to try the computer route but we’d have to wait a couple of weeks for that to arrive. There is a TV point in the drawing room and every bedroom, too, so there’s scope for different solutions in different places.

I had another nostalgic look at Treanleur Lodge on Google Earth, yesterday. They’ve got new images, I believe, from the satellites and from the street view. I rode my virtual bicycle North along Lough Feeagh to look at the bogs and the beautiful desolation. Must ride South to the sea, next, to take a look at the sailing there. I hope we can go visit soon, for a holiday at least. Bandit would love to see the sea.

I tried hard to think of something we could give as Christmas gifts without engaging in a mad rush of pointless shopping. My best ideas were home-made toffee or biscotti for everyone and faggots for those who burn wood. A couple of days’ effort would knock those off. Stacy asked whether I’d made the Christmas cake yet, as the meal is to be here. I said that we were providing dinner, not Santa Claus. She said she’ll bring the trifle. I might make a cake but, with your arrival followed by the furniture’s delivery, it will be hard to find the head-room to focus on Christmas until well after the cake-making window closes. There is the option of buying stuff in, which isn’t as daft as it sounds. All the local businesses will be bursting to make their best for the season and we can show-case Calderdale produce to the family. Ralph’s favourite pie-maker goes nuts at Christmas, apparently, making fancy stand-pies out of all sorts of goodies, alongside his normal pork perfections.

Just returned from the turkey next door: Thanksgiving dinner with Dave & Jessica plus Bill & Hillary from Warland Barn. They’re waiting until Spring to decide whether to move out.

Fence is nearly done but credit card still not working. Have to pay cash for the next job, too. Flooring the workshop so that the tools don’t have to be re-positioned and don’t rust up over Winter.

Bandit is happy: Al brought her a soft toy and some food treats today. Bev has flu and couldn’t come. After a quick tour and a wet walk, Al was happy to head home while I went to dinner. He wasn’t as affected by the rheumatism as I expected: no limping and hands not bad. He didn’t say much about the place except that we need more circuit protectors. I think I need to make friends with him again.

Received an Australian flag in the post today. From Monica?

Fire’s on now; carpet covered in toy innards and dog deciding where to sleep.

I’m very happy in my small valley world. The latest bonus I’ve received is to discover that Tod food market is on today, Friday, as well as Wednesdays and Saturdays. Kippers for lunch, then.

A couple of gypsies are hard at work erecting post-and-rail fencing for me, where the cows and horses are getting in. I actually asked the odd-job man, Jeff, and these are his team. Nice folk. I’m learning a bit about horses and carts from them. We could do with one of each to get the posts across and up the boggy fields. On Wednesday, Jeff and a carpenter mate are flooring out the Shippen, which will be a joy to behold. Then I have to stop until the house sale finalises and more funds arrive in mid-December.

Ralph took me to meet Barry, his retired, pattern-maker friend to see if he’s ready to part with his apprentice-made toolbox full of apprentice-made tools. A wonderful array of long chisels of every description, all boxwood-handled, and other bits and pieces in hand-made wooden boxes or original wrapping. He’s not ready to part with them yet but soon, I think. I promised to give him an honest price if he didn’t split the lot up. He had a factory producing casting moulds up to five yards across; all wiped out by CNC machines.

Bandit’s just had a check-up and annual booster inoculations. She’s wheezing a bit but the vet could find nothing wrong. Turns out we wasted our $$$ on a three-year heart-worm shot: there is no threat here. But there is, of course, a different disease for which she needs a series of shots to develop immunity. £££ this time. Hey ho.

T’Internet has arrived, though we only have thin tubes to the farm. Still, that slows down my purchases from the Aga store and Amazon. I have a small library of books arriving about forest gardening, coppicing, tree uses etc. Monica sez she wants to learn all those skills herself and be hands-on in the coppicing, which leaves me free to forge the froes.

Monica lands at Manchester, 8am on Thursday. Woohoo! Five sleeps; don’t know how many minutes, though.

Everything is complete in Australia. The house is sold and the contract completes on 16th of December—the same fay that most of our furniture arrives here. 

The only connections we will have after that will be our citizenship and our pensions. We may find we have to take holidays Down Under every two years to avoid tax on those pensions but that would be fun anyway.

Monica’s in Sydney for a last visit and is not too sad to leave it: we, especially she, had a tough decade there. Next Monday, she’ll be back in Adelaide to supervise the last of the removals—our best furniture which we retained to show the house—sleeping at a neighbours, before catching her plane on Wednesday. So you can see, she has already left, really. 

I’ve tentatively started a couple of jobs here, such as fencing and tree-planting, and the scale is quickly overwhelming. It will be great to have Monica here to help make the plans and take some of the load. We could be very busy, very soon, if we’re not careful. 

But, that’s all part of the romance of Warland Farm. Bring it on, I say!

Based on the first 20 days here, oil consumption by the Aga alone is about 10 litres per day, so the remaining 500 litres will run out on 7 Jan. That means an order will need to be placed right at Christmas. To be on the safe side, I’ve ordered a top-up for ten days from now: a thousand litres should last until the end of February.

I asked Jeff to put in post-and-rail fencing on the boundary of the farm, up from the canal at the lower lock, #34. He’s really bad at estimating time, I now know, so I hope he’s making money on the materials. The first day was mainly spent, with his oppo Denver, moving the posts into place on the steep and boggy land. We finished up carrying half the load along the canal bank to the bottom of the job.

Today, they also had happy Carl with them so I felt less guilty about not taking an active part in the strenuous effort required to get the posts in. I reckon they’re looking at another three days’ work. That will be about ten days’s effort and Jeff has estimated the labour at £250. Like I said, where’s the profit?

A clear day, overcast with a cold start.

Oh, and a Happy Birthday to me!

Chris came around later to deliver a card and an evil-eye charm. He had Rushna on tape, commenting on a 12-year-old photo, saying that I hadn’t aged (while she thought Chris had). I offered Chris some chocolate cake, saying that I’d been scared to offer it to the locals because I had forgotten whose birthday it celebrated—didn’t want to offer them their own cake. He let me finish the speech before telling me it was from Rushna and himself! More seriously, he’s just been given his notice from work. I hope he’s successful in defending his job.

Off to bed soon but this is what’s been happening.

Chris called in for an hour, last night, before going to a course in Carlisle. As a new safety officer, he gets to learn how to blow up oil rigs. Cool. He seems to be very happy to have me living nearby.

Ralph was here for lunch today, still enjoying the visits. This one was to remind me that dinner was at their place this evening. Soon after he left, a micro-hydro guy from Hebden Bridge called in. He’d been put onto us by Treesponsibility and we spent an hour looking at the springs and then sharing info about small turbines that might suit our low flow. He visited pronto because the rules are changing in March and grants may only be available for accredited installations after that: ours would be fairly easy to do ourselves. Cost? a few thousand. Returns? From a few hundred to a few thousand per year, depending how much water we can harvest. From the look of the spring system we’re using at the moment, there’s enough volume to run one turbine at the house and enough drop to run another at the canal. Next step is to look for more springs and to measure all the outputs. Of course, there’s a lot more water after rain but he said sporadic water power rarely works; steady flow is the thing.

I had to kick him out because Jeff called to get me to pay for some fencing material. He needed a bit of work and we need to stop the cows from destroying the walkers’ path in front of the house (and it’ll be essential for tree protection). That’s when I discovered that the credit card is fazooked. Had to pay cash, which is a shame. Still, the fence will be up in a couple of days.

Jeff brought his mate to look at the Shippen floor issue, after we had finished at the timber yard. The guy, Jonathan, knew how to solve the problem and has gone to price up the job.

After that, I gave Bandit a quick bath because she was about to visit a new house with white floors, walls, furniture etc and set off for dinner cooked by Karin on her non-Aga. It was a good, plain feast: pie, mushy peas and veg followed by bread-and-butter pudding. Then a slice of cake for good measure. I’m stuffed now and feeling sleepy. Karin was keen to hear, first-hand, about all the visitors that Ralph has been reporting upon. She is very happy for us that people have found the farm, though a bit sad that Monica is not here yet to enjoy the visits.

Bandit was feeling especially spry after lunch (Brie and local bread) so we decided to do some rubbish collection.

In the gully on the opposite side of the valley is a BLUE plastic something that’s been giving me the irrits for ages. We went up the brow shown in the photo, then straight down the gully to get the thing.

It turned put to be a large, plastic drum, that’s become wedged in the rocks and then filled with mud and shale. It wouldn’t budge for me. I wonder if Ralph has left any gelignite in the shed?