2015

The first year in our Forever Home.

March 2015.

After living in a new-build house in France for nearly ten years, we felt that it was time to find an old property to renovate ready for our dotage. We bought this old farmhouse in 2015, intending to take our time to renovate it because, well, we are getting on a bit. It was not the garden that sold it to us. It had no garden. It was, in fact, the garage, a building once used to house pigs and dry tobacco.
It was the perfect size for my snooker table...

This house had potential. We could see that straight away. But the outside? Forget it. Buy some sheep.
The only redeeming factor about the land was a beautiful long Box hedge.

We were not the only ones that found this attractive. By the time we arrived with the keys of the house in June, the Asian Box Moth had let loose its caterpillars of war. Not a leaf was left alive.

June 2015

The hedge appeared dead.
Oh look. A cute brown hedge. The green bits are invading weeds...

Behind and above the house was a hectare of steeply sloping field. Useless for anything except mountain goats and tumbling tractors.

Whilst starting the renovation of the house and its two outbuildings, the 'garden' took a back seat. The field immediately behind the house had no apparent use, either in terms of agriculture or aesthetics. I made one brave attempt at cutting it with my sit-on mower - disaster. Several hours cutting and all I had achieved was a narrow pathway and an upside-down mower. It was simply a haven for weeds and snakes.
A local farmer cut it for us for a wad of cash as, for the moment, we had other things to concentrate on.

So this was the canvas on which we were to attempt the impossible. To make a garden.

On moving in, we did have some plants brought from our old house. This olive tree was to replace an old one massacered by my beloved. Instead, it was the first plant to go into our new home.

The first of approximately 3,000.

Following this, a magnolia, planted over mum and dad’s ashes. At least they got to see the new house in one form or another.

September 2015

The night of the last day of August was to change all of our plans. We were sitting inside eating our dinner, when we noticed the BBQ wandering past the patio doors. Most amusing we thought.
Then came the rain...

Something was amiss. Lightning was being hurled in all directions, our pool cover had broken to pieces and flown away and the ceiling began to bleed water from everywhere.
This was no summer storm. This was a full-blown enormous freak tornado casually wandering over our quite hamlet.
Taking some of our roof with it.

At four in the morning of the 1st September 2015, our bedroom ceiling fell in.

We survived. It missed us by scant inches. It was to be the last time that we ever slept in that room.
We had to move. We had to accelerate the renovation of our new home and move quickly.  

Moving house is a pain. So much crap that you never knew you had. So much crap that you knew you had, but were actively ignoring while it festered in the garage, the attic, the bedroom. You remember the garage? That place where the car is meant to go but is full off all sorts of malevolent stuff. 'Stuff' sums it up nicely. But you can no longer ignore it, it's got to move. Either with you or to the dump, either way it has to move before the house finally changes hands.

The total move was to take us over a year. But some things were urgent. Some of the 'stuff' we had to move had wings...

December 2015

Our waterfowl had to move. They normally move by waddling, swimming, diving, and some of them (whose flight feathers had magically regrown) also by flying.
Twenty five waterfowl had to come with us to their new home. Twenty five ducks and swans that did not want to come with us to their new home.

As a matter of urgency, we dug a bloody great hole. This time I had learned from my previous mistakes. We opted for an island in the middle that did not float away from you every time you needed to do something with it. Like, drown for instance.

On to 2016...