As autumn is swiftly crushed in winter’s icy grasp and I am secure in the protection of our new home, I thought it would be a good time to reflect on life in the barn so far. There are many aspects to share about this new way of life, not to mention how we got here, but more of that to come in later posts. Right now the barn is talking to me, so that’s where I’ll begin. Up on a hill and parallel to a brook, our barn overlooks the rolling hills and valleys that lead to Powys Castle. Over 100 years old with a slate roof and timber frame half of our home is built of 2ft thick stone walls and half of timber cladding. Inside, all the rooms have exposed beams, rafters or purlins. That’s a lot of wood. Wooden beams are alive, they shift, expand and contract conversing with you through creaks that denote a change in temperature or the force of the wind. They have character; some are straight and true whilst others stoically ...
Sunday provided, what has become of late, a rare elongated period of dry weather. Much of the day was spent clearing the steep embankment by the brook. Despite the bite of the wind, jackets were discarded as the sun shone and the smoke from the incinerator permeated our clothes and hair. New shoots from the weeds are just beginning to peek through but so too are the shoots of plants yet to be revealed. Spring is an exciting time for any gardener but more so when you are about to discover what’s hidden beneath the bank of weeds. This and small glimpses of life from the bare trees and plants are a welcome enticement to say goodbye to what has otherwise been a long and difficult winter. We have been assured by our new friends that this season has been exceptionally wet and windy. By the time storm Dennis hit we thought we may have peaked. It felt rather apt that the storm was called Dennis. We once had a friend called Dennis, sadly he i...
ACCOUNTS FROM AN ACCIDENTAL GARDENER - WITH A LITTLE KNOWLEDGE AND A LOT OF IMPROVISATION... In a recent article in Gardeners’ World magazine, Monty Don expressed his enjoyment and envy of the carefree gardens created by the programme viewers. It made me think of the barn garden, not just the hopes and visions I have for it but also my approach to gardening. My style is what I think would politely be called, ‘carefree’. The easterly view from our home is one of distant rolling hills swathed in a blanket of trees above green fields dotted with sheep and meandering cows. On a clear morning, the sunrise paints the horizon in magnificent pink-orange hues, and on a not-so-clear morning the trees in the lower fields raise their heads above a sea of white-grey mist. The view is ever-changing yet consistent; no matter how much it is transformed by the light and the weather, it is always spectacular. Perhaps it was this dazzling view that blinded us to the challenges and sheer amount o...
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