Progress and Paint

This past week has seen a flurry of activity at the ‘glorified shed’ accompanied by a cloud of plaster dust and the reassuring smell of new paint.

The bathroom walls have been sanded, coating much of the ‘shed’ with a fine, telltale dust that has required diligent removal, followed by application of the first layer of paint in the form of a white undercoat. This stage has been incredibly fulfilling and reassuring, as suddenly the place is starting to feel like a proper home, not just an impromptu camp. Next on the agenda – a splash of colour!

It will even be a luxury to have a
place to hang a towel.

Also big news is the fitting of our new front door – a good, solid, wood affair, with a small leaded glass section and antique black fittings. We now no longer have to worry that the former, plywood, 1960s version complete with sign stating ‘Entrance’ will collapse when opened. Sometimes I’m tempted to walk in and out of the door purely for the novelty factor.

We’re now entering a more fun stage of the process – buying the bathroom suite and fittings! We’re going for all things curvy – a curved shower unit, a curved corner bath, a bit of curved shelving – well, you get the picture.

Fingers crossed that I’ll soon be able to introduce you to our long-awaited bathroom, which will only leave all the other rooms requiring building/renovation! In the meantime, let glamping resume.

The Things I’ve Learnt So Far

Since moving to moving to my rural home in the glorified shed last autumn it’s been quite a learning curve. Settling into my new surroundings and embarking on a renovation project like never before, have each involved many new challenges and lessons.

Spot the heron!

So this is what I’ve learnt so far...

A building or renovation project does not, as rumoured, take twice as long and cost twice as much as expected to complete. It does, in fact, take at least three times as long and cost at least three as much as expected – well, in our case anyway. I’ll let you know if those figures change further. Of course, if we weren’t trying to live in the building at the same time, and could afford an expert team...

Having taken an interest in birds since moving here, I’m now able to identify quite a variety of species on sight, but am yet to master identification by song. With the odd exception, I can rarely identify a bird by its call, though I often wish that I could. The other day I heard a very shrill noise, and was just wondering which bird it belonged to, when my husband walked round the corner pushing a squeaky wheelbarrow! I still have much to learn!

Sadly, a fair amount of rubbish gets washed up with the tides on this stretch of river – but on the bright side we seem to acquire an endless supply of footballs!

In a small village, you may think that people don’t know you or anything about you – but you’re wrong!

The Wayward Swan

On our return home from a recent trip out, we drove through the gate to find a swan pacing up and down in our car parking area. Said swan appeared somewhat agitated, intermittently peering anxiously through the chain-link fence that borders the river, in between wandering back and forth.

We decided to give it a wide berth and carefully made our way round to the front of the glorified shed, where we realised there was a trail of white feathers, leading back to where the swan now stood. On following the trail, we discovered that it started at a small gap in the bushes, which separate our garden from the river. A number of feathers were stuck on the leaves around the small opening, indicating that the swan had pushed through the gap, far smaller than itself.

The swan had obviously burst through the bush in some hurry – but what had caused its haste? An altercation with another swan? A daytime visit from a fox? We could only surmise.

Despite its agitation, the swan didn’t appear injured, so we tried to coax it back to the water by laying a trail of bread between its position and the easiest route to the  river – to no avail. We eventually decided to consult the RSPCA who said that it would come out in due course, unless we managed to remedy the situation in the meantime.

Our next thought was to give the swan some water, which it eventually drank, then ate a piece of the bread, which seemed to revive it slightly. We left it to recover and went to sit further along the garden. In due course we heard the pad of feet approaching and the much calmer swan appeared around the corner of the building.

It then slowly made its way down the lower path of our garden (between the bushes and river) whereupon it looked momentarily surprised (if that’s possible for a swan), as although the tide must have been in when it had arrived, making the river almost level with the garden, it had now gone out, leaving some distance between the two.

Finally, after much more pacing and deliberation the swan made it back into the river, where it swam off at some speed. So all’s well that ends well.

We had been starting to think that we’d acquired a permanent, resident swan!

Culling The Clutter!

When we performed ‘The Big Move’ last year, we naturally cleared out heaps of rubbish in the process. Numerous trips were made to the local tip, although we still seemed to have an enormous amount of things to pack in boxes.

Many of the items that came under the heading of ‘keepsakes’ were despatched to my mother-in-law’s loft. Other belongings were stowed in boxes under one of two categories – group 1 for things we would need almost immediately, and 2 for items that we would unpack at a later date.

Following the move, we had to reorganise some of these boxes as our plans changed. Our original idea of moving into our static caravan whilst the renovation took shape was shelved, due to an issue with transporting said caravan down our lane. Deciding to live in the ‘glorified shed’ whilst simultaneously working on it seemed to warrant a whole different set of chosen belongings.

We finally organised ourselves and have lived ever since with half of our possessions still boxed and stored at various points around the building. What suddenly struck us a few days ago, however, was that we haven’t missed the things that are out of reach. In fact, we’re struggling to remember what half of them are! Which got us thinking...

How many of our possessions do we not actually need? Ok, we’re living a slightly pared down lifestyle, and when we open the boxes we may find some items that we greet like long-lost friends. But we can’t help wondering whether half the boxes’ contents will be destined for the tip and local charity shops. Less is more, as they say, and maybe we’d all got used to too much clutter.

It will certainly be interesting to see what happens at the grand opening of boxes – whenever that may be. Will we exclaim, “How lovely, how did we manage without this?” as we lovingly unpack each item, or will our reaction be more a case of, “What on earth are we doing with that old thing?” Time will tell, but I have a feeling that we could be saying goodbye to an awful lot more of our old possessions.

River Fever

Since moving to our new riverside home (aka the ‘glorified shed’) some eight months ago, we’ve not only adapted to our new surroundings with ease, but positively wallow in them.

Any hardships experienced from our ‘glamping’ existence whilst renovating the former workshop are offset by the stunning view and peaceful atmosphere that we now experience.

Of course, like many people, we’d intermittently hankered after the rural dream, watching Country File with misty eyes and browsing the pages of Country Living Magazine with a ‘what if?’ scenario in the back of our minds.

What is strange though, is that in our ‘other life’, living in everyday suburbia, we often enjoyed countryside visits as a treat, but since moving to our rural location, we don’t consider trips to town anything to write home about, keeping them to a minimum.

Have we been tempted to book a city break? No, just a holiday in a (would you believe?) different rural location. Have we rushed to visit town-based friends for a change of scenery? No, we just invite them here – despite the building chaos. We’re not tempted by the lure of vibrant shopping centres, bustling streets or the bright lights of town.

We recently popped out for lunch. Having arrived at our chosen eating place, I exclaimed, “Let’s grab this table here, it’s by the window with a lovely view of the river!” A comment that yielded strange looks from the rest of the family, which seemed to say, “But we live right by the river and see it every day!”

That’s very true. As I sit at my computer writing away, I glimpse the river and surrounding countryside every time I pause for thought and glance through the window that’s right in front of me, but do I tire of it? No way. The whole effect is very calming, a feeling that I want to take with me wherever I go.

Welcoming Spring

Well we’ve survived our first winter in the ‘glorified shed’, although it was hardly a severe winter, for which we were thankful. In our area we only glimpsed the odd stray flake of snow, and although we experienced some chilly nights and frosty mornings, our make-do heating arrangements saw us through.

 

Walls and a roof severely lacking insulation, single-glazed windows from the 1960s that have definitely seen better days and ill-fitting, draughty doors were certainly set against us, but movable oil-filled radiators and a supply of thick jumpers helped us to manage the cold.

Now as the weather brightens with the arrival of spring, we are making plans to insulate the building and install a wood-burning stove ready for next winter. All we need now is to put the plans into action.

Meanwhile, in the garden things are coming to life. Daffodils, tulips and crocuses are making a welcome appearance. The number of birds I see increases daily, with more goldfinches and greenfinches visiting for food and a pair of blue tits taking up residence in the nesting box. I’ve spotted a treecreeper and a woodpecker in the garden, whilst on the river, the number of cormorants has increased and I’m hoping to soon see the return of the egrets that were regular visitors last year.

Progress on the building work may have been slow so far, but hopefully the arrival of spring will give us just the boost that we need!

Wires And Pipes

When people enquire about the rate of progress on the renovation of the ‘glorified shed’ they’re often quite surprised by the response.

Some six months down the line, they’re expecting me to report that, “Yes, we do now have a bathroom” and, “Yes, the kitchen has now been installed”. But the fact is neither is true, partly because some of the work is down to our own efforts and our time is limited, what with work, elderly mothers and children needing attention and life just being lived, and partly because much of what is being done is kind of ‘behind the scenes stuff’. You know, that gutty work that needs a lot of effort but doesn’t show much in the way of tangible results.

For example, before either bathroom or kitchen could become nearer to reality, drainage needed to be put in place. Currently both water supply and drainage only serve one small corner of the building, which is not anywhere near where the bathroom and kitchen are to be installed. We therefore had to find a willing and trustworthy individual to dig out a big trench, lay pipes, connect to drainage system and put everything back as if nothing had happened. Happily mission accomplished!

Similarly a plumber had to be arranged to run pipes from the water source to the proposed bathroom, to enable bathroom fittings to be connected.

And then of course came the matter of wiring. The room (former office) that we are converting to a bathroom contained sockets and switches not compatible with its intended use. Cue electrician. Of course, his intervention has also had to include new wiring looms, cable suitable for a shower, relocation of sockets and some shiny new switches!

So there has been progress but not of the ‘swish-new-shower’, ‘brand-new-bath’, ‘super-stylish-kitchen’ variety!

Walls and ceilings still have to be lined, flooring laid and a new ceiling put in place – then I’ll get my bathroom! Watch this space...

New Neighbours

After some deliberation with regard to style and suitable location, we decided to put up an additional timber building on our land.

Then we waited with baited breath for prospective tenants to take an interest. Relatively quickly viewings commenced. We looked on intently for reaction – will they or won’t they move in?

As time went on, some individuals returned for second and even third viewings. Tension mounted as we waited to see if the new residence would finally see tenants take it over.

And now they have!

You may be thinking that this all sounds very ambitious, when there is much work to be done on our own ‘glorified shed’, slowly renovating it to make it a desirable home. Why take time on an additional building? And why spoil the peace of our quiet, rural, riverside location by encouraging extra residents?

The truth is, it’s an extremely modest structure. In fact, it’s a nesting box and our new neighbours are a pair of plucky blue tits, who sit watching us as we wander about our garden.

I really like our new neighbours!

Trial And Error

When we moved into the affectionately named ‘glorified shed’ last year, we felt we that we had quite a firm plan as to how the renovation work would take shape.

Light and airy would be good

We hadn’t originally planned to live in the building whilst doing it up, but when our thoughts of moving a static caravan on site went awry, it seemed to be the only logical step. However, we have to admit that it was the best thing we could have done.

Living in the space, such as it is at present, has helped us to reshape our design and decide on what will be the most practical layout for our new home. The bedrooms will now be in a totally different place than first intended, the living area will be much more open plan than we had thought and we are now starting work on the bathroom, which we decided shortly after moving in, will be in the former office as opposed to the first location that we had considered.

Longing for my bathroom!

Spending the last few months living in the building has made us view things somewhat differently. Not only are we changing design plans, but rethinking the materials that we intend to use and the type of heating that we may install.

I would say to anyone converting an old building (in our case a former workshop) into a new home, live in it, however bizarre that may seem at first (we’ve likened our experience to a kind of glamping) to be sure that you create the home that you really want!

Five Months On

It’s been five months since we moved out of our conventional, suburban home and embarked on our adventure converting an old workshop into a rural, riverside bungalow.

Technically, we’ve only been living in the building for three of those months, as we spent the summer living in our static caravan on its site in East Anglia. We had planned to bring said caravan back down with us when we came, but a few calculations revealed that we couldn’t get it down the bendy lane leading to our home. So since September we’ve been sort of ‘glamping’ in our glorified shed, pretty well making things up as we go along, and trying to work and live in the same space simultaneously.

Up to now living in these conditions has been quite easy, but as winter starts to take hold, things may get a little less comfortable. It’s amazing how quickly living amongst a load of old workbenches, using a small corner of the building as a makeshift kitchen and visiting a relative for a shower has become the new ‘normal’. But dealing with chillier conditions is proving more of a challenge as some of my previous posts have revealed.

However, the landscape and the wildlife are proving as interesting and entertaining as ever – I can observe so much of nature from my window – with even the grey days offering delightful distractions.

Cormorants can often be seen on the riverbank opposite our home, but usually only in small groups of three or four. But one morning recently, we opened the blinds to be greeted by a line of at least 25 of them looking across at us (or so it seemed). Yes, despite the chills and grey days, the wildlife is prolific as ever, which is a cheering thought.

And now of course, we’re preparing for our first Christmas in our new location. Yes we will be entertaining the usual contingent of my mother, mother-in-law, daughter and grandson, in addition to my other daughter and son that still live with us, but arrangements are likely to be a bit ‘alternative’, shall we say.

Still more on that in a future post. I’m off to untie the shoelace that’s holding the washing machine outlet hose over the washbasin and hunt under the workbenches for something that I know I’ve stored in a safe place! Oh the joys of makeshift living!

It’s Like Living On A Film Set

Moving into a former workshop has proved an interesting experience. The building basically consists of two large rooms (large enough to fit in several smaller ones), an old office and a small toilet/washbasin area.

As I’ve previously explained, the office is in the process of being transformed into a luxury bathroom (she says hopefully) and we have currently spread ourselves over the two large rooms, although we will have to condense down to one when the main part of the work starts.

A somewhat 'alternative' kitchen

In the meantime, we have created a series of ‘rooms’ by the clever placement of furniture and the odd curtain. However, when I relax in our small ‘sitting room’, I can’t help feeling that I’m living on some kind of film or TV sitcom set. There are chairs, a coffee table, a floor lamp, a bookshelf and a TV (hubby even stuck white wallpaper over the brown walls), but all of these are situated in just one corner of a very large room. The surrounding space suggests that somewhere a cameraman, director and various other crewmembers are possibly lurking. As I take my seat, I half expect someone to shout, “Action!”

Our living area, not unlike a TV sitcom set

 As things progress, this large room will become a big open-plan living arrangement, with kitchen, dining area, living area and home office, all lovingly arranged. The view from the room is spectacular – the river, fields and hills – and this we can enjoy even before our plans take shape.

Hardly a luxury 'bedroom'

For now I will just have to resist saying, “Have you had your tea? What did you have?” in Barbara Royle style as I take my seat on the sofa. I must remember I’m living in a home, not a TV or film set.

Clearing the Way

Since moving to our new ‘home’, a former workshop that we’re renovating, we’ve made and remade plans time and again.

We have packed, unpacked and repacked boxes several times over, rescuing the things that we most need and storing those that we can live without, for a few more months at least.

We have rearranged our meagre furniture in a variety of ways to eventually settle on a plan that presents us with a variety of ‘rooms’, so that the building is vaguely liveable.

And now the fun, or at least the work, begins.

Reminding myself what a bath looks like

One of the first tasks has been to clear a number of small trees and bushes from behind the building, in order to get to the drainage needed to install a bathroom – our first priority. Although we currently have a small toilet and washbasin arrangement up one end of the building, we make a daily trek to my mother-in-law’s for a shower. The distance may be minimal, but it can still be a pain in bad weather.

We’re now starting to clear out the old office area, which we plan to lovingly reinvent as the new bathroom, which leads me on to one of my favourite parts of this whole project – choosing the fixtures and fittings!

In my head I’m imagining a gorgeous sleek affair, bright and shiny with a touch of luxury. Mind you, if the truth be known, I will just be glad to have a bathroom to call my own, whatever form it takes! Oh, how I revel in that thought!

Until that day, I will focus on my dream bathroom and carry on with the task of preparing the way.

Strange Sounds And Swirling Mists

A change in location has certainly meant quite a change in the sights and sounds that surround me.

I no longer live my day to the background hum of traffic punctuated by sporadic squeals of emergency sirens. The view from my window is no longer of a similar house opposite, with the residents’ actions mirroring my own – that old suburban routine.

My new lifestyle largely runs to the soundtrack of nature, with the occasional hum of boats drifting by. OK, some of their engines can be a tad noisy, but as we live on a tidal stretch of river, the times when these pass are restricted. I’m much more likely to hear birdsong (though screeching gulls can be less restful) and animal calls than the hustle and bustle of human life. Sometimes it’s almost silent.

This said, I did find the nights a bit unsettling at first. Not only did the building creak and groan in ways that I wouldn’t have imagined, keeping me alert to every noise, but I was hard-pressed to identify the sounds piercing the darkness outside.

Even I, as a lifelong townie, could recognise the bark of a fox, but other strange chattering and squealing sounds had me flummoxed. The strangest I’ve heard, I could only describe as a duck being throttled – actually in view of my former comments, let’s just not go there.

The first day that I spent alone in our makeshift home, there was the most awful commotion on the roof. I was rather startled and at a total loss as to what on earth could be happening. Answer – a sparrowhawk had landed and caught a pigeon.  I’ll spare you the details, but I thought to myself, “Welcome to country life!”

To add to the atmosphere, we have experienced frequent episodes of river mist since we arrived, some so dense that the river itself seems to disappear completely. The whole effect can be quite surreal.

So all things considered, I don’t think I chose the best time to read ‘River of Destiny’ by Barbara Erskine, a story of a couple who move to a converted property by the river. When the mists roll in so does a ghostly ship and strange things start happening all around them. Oh well, at least my new circumstances meant it left less to the imagination!