The next blog I post will be the long awaited “Author Interview”. We used my house in France for this piece as I thought that the medieval structure of the house – A-frame timbers, thatched roof and walls constructed from cow muck and straw, would have some resonance when I got to talking about the farm in Londesborough where young Henry was first taken.
If you see the next blog, it fits in well with the piece but I am quite sad, as we have made a decision to put it on the market this summer.
I had hoped to retire there but ‘er indoors, a Yorkshire lass through and through, has decided that ending her days away from the Broad Acres is not on. Besides she doesn’t speak the lingo and there is no gym within a 20 mile radius.
The concession is that I can buy somewhere with a bit of land in Yorkshire but the thing that’s worrying me is the logistics of getting everything back to Blighty and fitting it all in – hence the obscure picture of the beet cutter. I spent a whole winter restoring that and it now works as good as the day it was made – when Queen Victoria was on the throne.
It’s not just that, it’s all the trees I’ve planted. Apples, pears, quince, plums, figs, gooseberry, redcurrant and blackcurrant – not to mention the few vines I have. I’ve worked that land in the depths of winter, fingers freezing or sometimes slithering in the mud. I’ve toiled long and hard through blazing summers, sweat stinging my eyes and insects biting anything that was on offer. I’m proud of my bit of pasture too, finally ridding it of brambles, ground elder and nettles.
It’s all been a major part of my life, and I feel sad, but I have to be pragmatic and realise that we are only custodians of these lovely old houses and I have played my part in restoring the house and the land for someone else to enjoy.
At some stage I will have another challenge. Another house to fix up and a piece of land to lick into shape.
Who knows what the future has in store?