Category: How did we get here?

David

This, this I will miss.
I am alone on the balcony with coffee and gorgeous italian biscuits Mario brought yesterday.

There is little left to do and I feel like a mole coming out blinking in the light.

The day will be hot-as by lunch time and the house will handle it.

So now I start taking my leave. Lunch with Juddy today and dinner with Moni & Joanna Sunday, and dinner with Judy next Tuesday.

Then off to Sydney for a similar round with Gerri, Grazyna, Concy and of course Julie.
I have my mobile and will stay with Julie except for Thursday when I see Gerri & Kim.

The phone and internet are on here till I leave so radio silence will be but a day and a night.

I am ready, everything is done as diligently as I could do it. Of course something will slip through the net but that is life.

Can hardly believe that this time 2 weeks I will be sleeping in Warland Farm. It will be good.

Thank you for going first. I am glad I had this time to clear out, tidy up and sort out the finances.

My love to you – hope I haven’t been too cranky.

Monica

Treesponsibility look likely to get another lump of funding if they can put up the right sites. Dongria, who’s putting together the final bid, has just called by to make an initial assessment of the farm and loves it.

It’s so good, though, she may offer it to another group who look like failing to use up their grant this season. The upshot is we may get some in this season; we’ll almost certainly get all that we want planted within two years.

The plot over the road won’t be nice to work in—we had a look in while waiting for her bus home. But it had the advantage that trees there will filter the water of likely pollution from mines and railways, plus ameliorate the damage from the tar works.

A good morning’s work but now I’ll have to wait until tomorrow to visit Old Trafford and to get my clothes washed.

It’s interesting that Bandit’s experience of the farm is like mine: today, she needed a new tennis ball and, hey presto, she found one.

A warm day with a sunny haze; probably the finest since I arrived. All the windows and doors are open. A lovely hint of summer life here.

Thanks for your good wishes. I’ve been living at the farm for four weeks and life is sweet.

The previous owners have only moved a couple of miles away and Ralph, a retired engineer, returns every other day to explain some feature he created that I’d never discover on my own, such as the compressor to clear the springwater pipe or the light-pull hidden behind the four-poster bed.

I’ve just put my long-lost brother, Neil, onto a train back to London. We’ve only met a half-dozen times since we were re-introduced ten years ago. He’s the kind of brother I’d have chosen and we had a few gentle days of walking and eating; he returns home with a sack of pork pies from the local market.

Bandit, our 14-year-old dog, arrived last Friday and has settled right in. This isn’t a working farm though there are cattle straying into the fields but she’s not interested in chasing them. Next test is to take her over the moors.

Monica arrives on 1st of December and our furniture two weeks later. A family Christmas dinner for twenty will emerge from our Aga a couple of weeks after that. All the projects—barn conversion, tree planting etc—will have to wait until the pudding settles.

Neil’s on the train to Leeds; Bandit and I are back to the farmhouse. The bro said he had a wonderful time and that he likes the farm and the locality immensely. I suspect the highlights of this visit were pies, bacon and roast pork. Half his rucsac was filled with pork pies to keep him going until next visit.

Hebden cinema is a winner: there’s plenty of legroom; the sound and vision are good; you can take your mug of tea in with you; and it’s nice and warm. Only open certain days, though, and Monday seems to be non-blockbuster night. We saw ‘The Debt’, about three Mosad agents and their efforts to capture a Nazi doctor. Not especially political, unless I missed something, just a gritty story with fine actors and crew. Three DAVES.

Chris may come over this afternoon. In any case, I’m out measuring to floor out the Shippen, ready to receive our stuff.

The sun has come out, now that Neil has left. If he’s coming back up for 12 December, we should plan on damp weather. Maybe that will make Christmas bright and cheerful? I’m hoping for snow after Christmas. Snow on the day could be a disaster, a) because folk may not be able to get in, and b) because they may get stuck here!

Anyway, I think I deserve a snooze after my overly sociable weekend. Someone, probably Chris, said, “Get used to it.” Good point.

Yesterday evening, as I was settling in to wait for the arrival of Kevin and clan, I spotted the next-door neighbours arriving home from work. Of course, I introduced myself and snagged an invitation to visit this evening.

I just got back, well oiled, from a very pleasant visit.

Jessica is from Oregon, Dave is from Berkshire. He brews beer and builds kit cars, she is a project officer (maybe manager) for Manchester Council. They’re a bit alternative and were very pleased to hear our plans for the place, especially as the rumour is that we’re about to convert the barn into a motor cyclists’ bunkhouse.

They’re suffering from a botch-ridden build and the strain of trying to make their place habitable through responsible DIY. I think we should let them continue for a few years before we make an offer for it. They swear they’re in love with their lives here but they’re exactly like we would have been 15 years ago: likely to move on at any time.

They gave me good information about the local health care system (he’s going through the bad back years) and up-to-date info about Bill, the journalist who has had a stroke. As a result of the visit, I have free access to their rhubarb patch and an invitation to their wild Halloween celebrations.

In summary, I have high hopes that we’ll get on well with our new neighbours. We have a lot more in common with them than Ralph and Karin would have had.

Tony And Eileen are confirmed for this weekend, arriving Sunday arvo and staying overnight. Woohoo!

Yesterday was pretty cruisey, compared to the panic it could have been. I decided that, rather than catch the exact train to connect with my Leeds–London booking, I’d drop the car in Walsden for service, early, then take the next train to Hebden and take breakfast. After a couple of hours there, including buying a flower-press for Neil from the market, I set off for Leeds an hour earlier than necessary and so had the luxury of exploring the shopping area and the famous market. I have looked in through the doors of the market once before when visiting Chris and then vowed to come back. Now, it’s just a train-ride away from us.

The ride into Kings Cross was smooth and I arrived at Neil’s gaff just before he got home from work. Everyone else was in but he had a puncture which made him late.

Things seem much the same here: a busy family coping with life in a big city. Tomorrow, Neil is coming up to the farm for a few days, hopefully on the same train as Bandit and I. I’m sure that’s when I’ll find out how he and Genave are getting on.

I just had another surprise contact, from Steve and Val Slade. They’re up North for the weekend and are planning to call in late Saturday morning. So the model that we discovered all those years ago, at Tock How Farm, is working: live in an interesting place and people will visit, causing all sorts of unlikely interactions. In this case, Neil and Steve will meet, with Ralph and Kevin likely to arrive to enrich the mix.

My plans for the next while include:
– waiting for the broadband connection and a heating oil delivery, then
– painting the Manchester flat (probably late next week), then
– attending a Treesponsibility gathering all next weekend, sleeping in someone else’s barn and learning how and why to plant trees, then
-a few days spare, then
– down to London around the following weekend, hopefully to stay with you for a short while, then
– collect Bandit from Heathrow with friend Eileen, then
– a couple of weeks spare, then
– Monica arrives and spare time becomes a dream! Then
– our furniture arrives 17 December, if we’re lucky, then
– hordes descend upon us for Christmas though we can’t guarantee accommodation so we’re suggesting renting somewhere nearby. 

In that short-term spare time, I plan to board out the workshop so that my shed stuff doesn’t become a rusting heap; and renovate an existing crane to get household spares up into the Shippen roof where it’s driest.

There are horses and bridlepaths *everywhere* here. I’ve been over the tops a couple of times and it’s a lot more horsey than anywhere else I’ve been. You can even get a guided, multiple-day tour staying out in barns etc. 

The farm continues to please and surprise me. Examples: in the gun cabinet, which I swear was empty last week, I found the sibling of a favourite hunting knife I lost in my boyhood; the odd-job guy told me there’s a permanent white-water kayak course nearby; Ralph casually mentioned that a pair of carved, ancient cupboard doors are lying in the hayloft; and the old clock has started working so I have the same feeling of calm quietude that I experienced at the Stank.

What excitement!  It’s fairly dull round here, with most things going to plan.

Took train from Littleborough to Victoria this morning and dropped the bike in for its “free” service. Then hailed a cab to Old Trafford to spend a couple of hours with Monica’s parents. They were cheerful but a bit bored, I think. I left them to their lunch and went in to the flat. I had just finished my curry when Stacy arranged to have tea at 4pm, so had to jump on a bus to collect bike and get back on time.

In the end, we decided on a tea-room near the flat. The Irish waiter took a shine to me and, when I asked if they sold their fancy tea-timers, she explained that they didn’t but most had been stolen. “You take that one”, she said, “I’d rather you had it than some thief”. So I now have a cute set of three hour-glasses in two-inch frame, measuring 3, 4 & 5 minutes.

After I left, Stacy went to look at a room in a house nearby. An SMS just now said she’d been chosen as the most likeable of the applicants, so she’s moving out of Kevin’s soon.

Gosh, what a thing to be able to say: “I am done with the house”. That makes Monica’s arrival here seem very real and very close.

Moni sent pictures of her day out with Monica, though I haven’t been able to download them yet. I hope it was wonderful.

On Friday afternoon, I walked past Tod and halfway to Hebden, then up the hill until to right under Stoodley Pike. That’s where Treesponsibility were holding their annual gathering, in High Gates camping barn. It was dark and starting to rain on the last, uphill mile but still enjoyable. I was there before the folk who were collected from the station so I mucked in with preparing the dinner, getting to know a few key members and the organisation’s background. About thirty other volunteers turned up, many from a Manchester Uni gardening club who use these gatherings as a way to keep in touch now they’ve left college. All very young and earnest; nice people.

Part of the reason for this visit was to assess the idea of a camping barn for Warland. This one did not convince me: a huge volume, about the size of ours, with a huge heater in one corner; the heat went straight up without bothering anyone nearby then fell, chilled, down the back wall. By morning, everyone who tried to sleep on the flagged floor had disappeared to the smaller rooms elsewhere. I was on a raised platform but the cold draft was hard to keep out.

On Saturday, we had two plots of 250 trees to plant, both on steep slopes. The morning session was hard and disorganised (that’s the way they work) but the afternoon job went pretty smoothly.

After dinner, a guest speaker asked us to grab sleeping bags and snuggle up, which was my cue to leave! After the previous night’s poor sleep, the thought of another after an awkward hour with these happy youngsters made coming home to the farm impossible to resist. Although I’d miss the easier planting on Sunday, plus a fencing job, I had established my credentials as a good guy and a hard worker; plus got them interested in planting at Warland.

And so, I found myself walking back along the darkened towpath on cracker night. I passed only one person on the whole six miles. It was a delight to skirt the celebrations, avoiding the busy spots but looking in on quiet, family bonfires from the canal.

As a result, I had a wonderful night’s sleep and a good, guilt-free sleep-in. This morning, the sun is warming me on the bench outside as I write and I can hear the footballers calling on the sports ground below. A real free-day to finish reading my novel.

My immediate plans are:
– Tuesday: take bike into Rushholme for service; visit M&D; leave car at Walsden for service.
– Wednesday: train to London to stay with Neil.
– Friday: collect Bandit with Eileen and train home, hopefully on same train as Neil, who’s coming up for a few days; maybe collect car.

Just got back from a morning’s bus outing to Tod. A frosty morning but my Barbour and boots were up to it. May need gubbies soon.

Joined the library, collected train tickets, bought Bandit’s bed and food. Plus, found a game butcher so Wabbit for tea!

Easy, peasy.

This arvo, I finished my photo-recording of the farm—650 pictures—and wrote to Aunt Sylvia. Next, a woodworm inspection! Hmm; found a few areas worth treating; nothing to worry about, though.

At 6:30pm it feels like 10 because it’s been dark for ages. I had a beef thing, half steamed, half roasted, for dinner. The Aga does things like that well. You just put things on a pan in the oven based on how long they take to cook; and cover it or not depending how wet, dry or brown you want the result. All tasty though, especially with some “herbes de Provence” from Tod market. I saved the Wabbit for Ron.

I’m glad to report that the wood stove is a little ripper. Its controls are more subtle than the one in Adelaide so it’s easy to manage the burn. It doesn’t seem to have much thermal mass, though, so it’s best to keep some flame alive. I haven’t tried to keep it in overnight but, with the right wood I’m sure it’ll work.

Just called Daddy to tell him I’m calling in, in the morning. The bike’s going in for a service and I need to make a plan of action for the flat.

It’s not as cold as I expected because it’s raining gently. It sure is cosy, here!