Woohoo.
Off to Devon again to pick this up, the week after next. Next week cycling around Morecambe Bay with Sustrans.
Built a pile of beehives for Monica; now clearing out the pigsty in preparation for starting the building jobs.
She’s well: clog dancing like a mad thing. Summer is completely mad with dancing round here. Breton dancing in Hebden’s Handmade Parade tomorrow, Morris dancing with Littleborough Rushcart in the bottom field next month.
After the inspection, yesterday, Monica asked me to make a couple of queen excluders for her hives; a quick job before elevenses. Just as I was milling the last rebate in twenty boards, she popped in to say she was on the way to market and pointed out that there were design criteria for the excluders that I hadn’t been told about. A wasted mornings work, unfortunately. Monica drove off to market while I fumed over a pot of tea. I had to redesign the components and mill up another lot of boards.
To reward my effort, a parcel was delivered containing the wood stain that would turn the previously-rejected tote into an item of furniture plus a couple of Stanley spokeshaves. While the excluder frames were gluing up, I flattened the backs of the blades and sharpened them roughly. They will join the green woodworking kit, once I have some old, wooden shaves and travishers in the joinery.
After staining the tote dark mahogany, to match the parlour furniture (it’s to become a kindling box), I was tired of the joinery and stepped out for another brew. The fence, started yesterday, needs to be completed and sheep-proof ASAP so I bargained with myself that, if it was earlier than two o’clock I’d go work on it today. It was twenty to five!
I was less grumpy after an Eccles cake but Monica was still tiptoeing around me. After the market, she disappeared up the hill to continue beating up the hedge. She chose neutral territory for the evening, offering a trip to the movies to see the Spooks film (three DAVES: not enough better than the TV series to justify being in the cinema).
The fence will have to be done tomorrow. I hope to get the field at lock 35 done, then move some materiel to lock 34 on Monday. Apart from a bit of fence behind the house which blew down recently, I have no need of the rest of the wood and am thinking about a design to turn it into benches.
Monica said she never thought she’d spend her days bee-keeping and tending trees. I never thought I’d be fencing all day.
It was a fine, sunny Thursday as I wheeled Humpty down the hill to start the final stretches of fencing, along the canal locks. The job commenced with dismantling a section of the old, rotten fence and removing wire and plastic netting from the whole length. Using the crowbar to pry the rails from the posts, the connections are very variable and I managed to clonk my scalp with the toe of the bar. A bit of a bleed but missed any major veins.
The connection to the gate was carefully made to match the other side, where the memorial garden ends. The gate is set back, to allow the lock gate arm to swing wide, and I’ve angled the sides of the setback to make movement with barrows and stuff easier if the lock is in its usual, closed position. From there onwards, though, I’ve reverted to the Warland Farm pattern fence that I invented and have used on t’Other Bit, the Quarry and elsewhere. This relies upon sheep netting for the lower section, then has a couple of rails close together near the top of the posts. A wire along the tops, barbed or not, may be added. It achieves a higher top rail than the standard three-rail layout so it doesn’t need barbed wire to keep the sheep out. It’s also harder for people to climb over because there’s no rail at the level you need to step on. The top wire also makes it harder to get over.
It was a busy day at the lock so I spent a while chatting to folk on barges. Some Canal Trust workers were at Lock 34, pouring grout into holes to try to find and seal the leak into the Water Meadow. Very hit and miss but at least they’re still trying. They said that when pipes were laid inside the meadow to carry cables for Mercury, the trenches were back-filled with gravel instead of clay so the water seems to get into the trench and travel, making the leak hard to pinpoint.
All the chatting and waiting while people moved around the lock side delayed me a bit but the fence timbers are replaced to about half the length of the lock. Tomorrow, I should be able to complete the rest of Lock 35 including the wire netting. Maybe Lock 34 will be done before the bike ride that starts next Wednesday.
In mid-afternoon, Monica radioed to say she was deferring opening the hives until tomorrow because she was feeling a bit sun struck, having worked the morning on the hedge again. Unfortunately, a short while later she was booted into bee action when I reported a swarm passing over the lock and down to the road end. As she would have worried all night, Monica donned her yellow bee outfit and spent a few hours in the apiary. There was no evidence that the swarm came from our hives and all were reported healthy and busy.
After tea of fish and chips, Monica is away out to her Todmorden bee group. I hope she brags about all the kit I’ve made for her. My evening will include a long shower where I’ll be bathing my bonce.
Another wet(ish) day: another day in the joinery, clearing out projects.
Monica wanted her frame tote to be lightweight and I reasoned that, as box-jointed plywood is the lightest construction, a jig to make fine, 6mm fingers was needed and would be useful for making any small storage boxes. So, that’s how the morning was spent. After lunch, I sliced of a lump of 9mm plywood and set to sizing it to make the tote. After careful design and drawing, I cut the pieces all the wrong size and had to nail it together! Still, it’s done, with carry strap, frame supports, handle and latch. Now the bee project must be complete!
Monica continued to beat up the hedge above the Road Field. Many of the densely spaced plants are suffering from choking by grass in their tubes. Many of the tubes are on upside down so perhaps they don’t burst when they’re packed with material.
Today, I commenced Project Pigsty by loading all of the post and rail fencing materiel onto the truck and delivering it into the bottom field through the new gate at Lock 35. I also loaded Humpty with the fencing toolkit so that I can make an easy start tomorrow.
Sunday. Late out of bed to greet a damp morning. The last job for Monica was to make a couple of bases to go under hive parts. I thought they were to move supers up from the apiary but, fortunately, Monica stepped into the joinery when the frames were gluing up. Turns out they’re also to prevent spillage while that super is sat in the kitchen, waiting for extraction. So, rather than using some of the depth to create feet, the base was inserted as low as possible to enable maximum honey-catching volume. Still, they are now done and in Monica’s pile of bee boxes, and the project is done. I owe her a frame-carrier, a few extra supers and a couple of bases but they can be done as odd jobs. Now we’re on to Project Pigsty, starting with the canal fences.
To celebrate the change-over, the joinery got a good clean up and dusting down. Other half-finished projects were tidied away: Ralph’s grandma’s blanket chest, the workshop’s mobile benches and what was the frame tote but is now a kindling box.
Summer starts tomorrow and the projects are on track. How fun!
and a knotty cherry stump, from Al, got cut into four bowl blanks.
A busy Saturday. As a new routine, I use Saturday morning to walk the farm and do a bit of maintenance work while Monica goes to market. Looping around either above or below the farmhouse, I carry a rucsac of tools, a small scythe and a hoe with which I can correct most urgent problems. Now that Dongria has declared that Treesponsibility aren’t going to maintain the copses, I’m starting to pay attention to them.
Yesterday, I started at the top of the oak copse that abuts Warland New Wood and fettled about half an acre i.e. one fall. About 60% were grass-choked; 20% look like failing; and about 10% have already died. I decided to use coloured wool to mark the last two statuses: Orange for dead, blue for sad. That way I can look across a fall and estimate the number of new trees to source.
Talking with Monica, we had the idea that no new tree material should be brought onto the farm now that we have sufficient stock to take seed and cuttings from. For example, any new oak should be grown from old Warland Wood acorns.
I returned down the hill in time for lunch. It was a French & Breton dancing day so, after a brief snooze in the hammock, I dressed and we went to Hebden Bridge. The usual venue was locked, so the band had decamped to the Stubbing Wharf. At least there was beer to compensate for the lack of room. After the dancing, we ate fish and chips in the square before walking to the Fox and Goose for a beer. This is where the F&B musicians retire after the dancing to practice so it was pleasant to listen to them while boozing. Then, around 7pm, we staggered off to the Picture House to watch “A Royal Night Out”: unspeakably twee propaganda for the royal family—1.5 Daves—but it helped round out a very enjoyable day.
I’ve been watching Dave Canterbury’s Pathfinder YouTube videos for a while. He covers a wide range of topics that I share an interest in, such as weaving and bodging, as well as the expected bushcraft and survival.
Based on his generous information, I have started to rationalise my kit bags. There are numerous bags about the place that hold bits of essential kit: the old green rucksack holds a lightweight camping kit; my blue shoulder bag has some road warrior stuff; the dairy shelf has clothing for use about the fields; and there’s a blue rucksack containing some forestry maintenance tools.
I haven’t ever been able to properly define the purpose of each of these bags, hence the kit leaks between them and I’m never quite prepared for anything. Here are my latest thoughts, based on Dave Canterbury’s ideas.
1) Forester’s kit
This bag contains what I need to carry while maintaining the plantations plus bodger’s tools and a bit of camping stuff in case I pause for an hour or overnight.
2) Lightweight camping kit
Containing everything needed to spend a few nights without facilities including emergency survival items.
3) Road warrior kit
Whatever I’d like to have when couch surfing or staying in conventional accommodation with electricity, shelter, water, Internet and other luxuries
I suppose stuff will still leak between these bags. For example, when I go to lead the Sustrans ride, next month, I’ll have a bed some places and camp in others plus I’ll need a comprehensive cycle toolkit and a minimal survival kit. Perhaps the answer is to modularise each kit into sub-kits and either duplicate these or allow them to move to where they’re needed (and track them carefully). The camping kit, in particular, needs to morph to suit cycling, walking or driving.
For the first of these, which I’ll probably use most, I have obtained some nice old canvas bags: a Telemark rucsac, a haversack and a foraging bag. Unfortunately, the Telemark doesn’t have the axe pockets as advertised so I need to create those before I can put it into use. The haversack is designed to hold essential kit to hand so that the big bag can stay on my back; this can go into immediate use, paired with my existing forester’s kit in the blue rucksack.
I’m coming to the end of the urgent set-up projects at Warland Farm. Because of our age, we’ve felt it important to get the land use projects in place so that we have time to watch them mature. Most of the farm is now fenced; 5 acres of woodland and the same of timber coppices have been planted; the meadow, heath and forest garden and orchards are set up; and the apiary is well placed to survive and grow. At the same time, I’ve developed the workshops, especially the joinery, to the point where they can support construction and renovation projects.
Now, I can turn my efforts towards the Mickle Barn. One of our main criteria for selecting a new home was to have guest accommodation outside our house. Warland Farm came with planning permission to convert one barn into a house. While waiting to start this conversion, lots of ideas have emerged and coalesced into a programme of projects to create a multi-purpose building that not only fulfils our original desire but also can provide income, a venue for social gatherings and additional workshops and storage. All I have to do is build it and make it beautiful!
The first project in that programme is to provide drainage around the buildings and get the spring water under good control. Then, we’ll build a new, lean-to barn behind the Mickle Barn which will provide storage and work space to allow the main conversion exercise to be started.
However, before diving into the programme, I’d like to make sure that other projects don’t stop completely. Monica’s projects in the farmhouse have need of me and there are a few other projects that I think will contribute to our enjoyment of the farm if they can be quickly completed. I have a prioritised list of all the stuff I’d like to do but some boundary has to be drawn; hence, Project Pigsty.
Project Pigsty’s ostensible aim is to clear the pigsty of all the junk that has accreted in preparation for the barn conversion. Rather than just move the stuff elsewhere, I plan to use this umbrella title to drive other things to get done, including:
• finish the canal fencing to use up the fence materiel
• point the pigsty walls to use up the sand and lime (do the house end walls too)
• fix the boat trailer and fettle the boat
• fix the Land Rover
• dismantle the garden beds, moving the plants to new locations
• take up the flag garden and replace it with a bike shed, planting bed and cobbled seating area
• build the bakery oven using the stone and bricks
• create a bodger’s camp outside the barn using lawsonia poles
• process the firewood pile
• mulch the brash
• create storage bays alongside the forest track
• move all spare material to new storage areas
This is a lot to achieve, I know, but if I time-box each activity and mothball anything that gets out of hand, I should be able to start on the barn in, say, October. In the meantime, in my spare moments on wet days, I can complete the barn designs and get the planning permission changes submitted.
When Monica returned from a three-week visit to Australia, recently, she declared that the projects should be reprioritised so that those which might earn money come as early as possible. It’s an odd thing but many of our ideas, though not designed to, could easily bring a small profit. When you plant things on a twenty-acre scale, there is always a chance of excess that can be sold, raw or with some value added. As well, by building our own facilities to a high standard, they seem likely to attract paying guests to use them. For example: our guest accommodation in the Mickle Barn has morphed into a bunk house and self-catering apartment; Monica’s apiary is likely to produce ten times the honey we could eat; and my workshops are adequate to small scale production runs or prototyping. In fact, I find it hard to understand the attraction of the typical farmer’s six sheep and two horses, which cost more than their value in feed and vet bills, when most could bring in better profits from vegetables,with less stress.
After the planning, it’s back to building Monica’s frame tote and bases, unless something arises in the meeting.
… there was the usual robust discussion at our meeting.
Three main facts arose: after age 65, our non-superannuation pension and flat rental income will roughly equal our current, empirical living expenses; our superannuation has appreciated; because we have spent more on living than budgeted, there isn’t as much in the project pot as hoped.
Monica presented spreadsheets showing that income from solar panel tariffs , barn accommodation, honey sales etc could possibly make up the project shortfall and proposed that we should focus our spending on bringing profit-making projects to fruition. I agreed with the proposal but wasn’t convinced by the figures. My additional proposal was to re-state that if the project funds run out, projects stop; we should modularise projects so that they can be paused, preferably with some income if possible, until we can get access to the Super. The main example, and the main target for funds, is the Mickle Barn conversion where the plan is to get the infrastructure (sewers and bathrooms) in place and replace the hayloft to create a camping barn.
If and when project work has to pause, it should be a joy to use what we have already created, such as the apiary and the joinery, to occupy our time productively.
I finished all the beehive parts requested by Monica, yesterday, apart from some minor fettling. For example, I don’t have enough galvanised iron sheet to cover one of the lids so that’ll have to be completed later. Still, Monica is in awe of the amount of apiary kit she now has in store. Hopefully, she’s ready for anything the bees want to get up to this year. I particularly like the two half-width nucleus hives. These are for use in catching small swarms, over-wintering weak swarms or just separating off a small swarm to protect the apiary’s viability.
Chris turned up at 11ish and was suitably impressed at the woodwork. He brought fresh bread so we could offer Karin’s crew ham sandwiches when they arrived from their hike at lunchtime. Paul and Gwenda, her guests, were fairly hard work to keep talking. Karin gave me the rolling eyes as she left so I think they’re an effort for her, too. Maybe Ralph used to keep the conversation flowing. These folk used to live in the first house at the Gate End from 1980—92 and are now living beside Loch Lomond. I doubt we’ll see them again.
The last two bonus jobs for Monica’s bee-keeping are a tote, to carry around a few frames with her tools, and a couple of bases to sit hive parts upon when transporting them with honey or bees inside. I designed them last evening; today, I’ll try to build them. The tote needs to be lightweight and manageable which is an interesting challenge after building so many chunky boxes.
The workshop fire is packed with sawdust and shavings so at least I’ll be warm out there when the forecast rain starts, later.
Some geezer turned up at the gate with an aerial photo of the farm from 1967. Lots of interesting differences: no trees in the fields apart from the big sycamore and silver birch; all of the pigsty walls in place; the yard covered in weeds and no flag garden; the house garden put down to vegetables; the stone trough in the middle of the yard and much more. Ralph’s Land Rover is parked right against the back door; I wonder what he was up to?
Seeing how the main garden used to be useful rather than decorative gave Monica the idea of moving the functions we planned for the flag garden—herbs, mainly—back there which would leave the flag garden for other uses. I have suggested that we pave it over and build a bike shed against the long wall. This would give us another seating area, bike storage for ourselves and bunkhouse guests and an extra emergency parking bay. A broad raised bed along the drive, inside the gate, would separate and define the area and allow some plants to soften the yard. Secretly, I hope to also build ramparts on top of the bike shed to allow easier observation over the wall. This shed would be the model for others all along the long wall which would shelter car bonnets, support solar panels and provide storage. We still have to work out where all of Karin’s plants from the pigsty would go; we were planning to move them to the flag garden.
Later: the tote has been a challenge to work out but it’s coming together slowly. There are strict size requirements; it has to be robust but lightweight; and I’d like it to look good, too. Rather than work everything out on paper, I’ve cut the pieces from the inside out: from the size critical components to those that support them. So far, only one error that will show in the finished product, though not badly. More tomorrow.