Blooming marvelous...

Its been a very busy month.
I spend most of the time looking like an extra from a Mad Max film and we've all become accustomed to drinking tea out of broken, brown tea stained mugs.


So.....
Did we make it?
Or are the in-laws currently huddled under a cheap B&Q gazebo in the garden like a pair of displaced lost souls.....











Does the attic still look like this?

Not quite...
Thank God.
Linda and Steve have a bedroom.

And a lounge.

Its in need of some soft furnishings and the fireplace needs finishing but its a darn good effort.

And we are back in the caravan and i'm so, so happy!
It was a little 'changing rooms' at times.
We had enough time to decorate until the paint just fell off the walls...
It took 4 coats and PVA in the end.  About 40 litres of paint for a 15 litre job.  Ridiculous.
With the carpet fitters booked in on Tuesday, Gary and I painted well into the night all weekend after Arthur had gone to sleep.  Alison was here painting on her days off.  On Monday the paint had flaked on to the floor we were sanding off all our hard work and painting at the same time in as there was no time.  Linda teetered as far as she could (afraid of heights and the method to reach the top is scaffolding tower plus dodgy step ladder) and I filled in the gaps. We were still painting one room as the fitters arrived to lay the first carpet.

Graham drove a 6 hour round trip to give us the power!
This was SUCH a momentous day.

I sanded the beams

Then Alison painted for the first time, and Linda for the second.

and I for the third...

Impossible to work out where to put the bed.
The little chap helping me wasn't very strong either.

But we got there.

It feels so good to be home and thinking about the future. And I love the caravan and all its kitch.  I secretly like the little compartments and how streamline you have to be.  We've moved the bed around and its positively 'roomy!
Still tiny for Arthur, but we've now got a whole new floor for him to run around in. We've basically made a little flat for the in-laws - with a lounge and a bedroom (bathroom still not finished - but this is mainly due to me being indecisive on lighting). The slide that Linda and Steve bought him for Christmas, and Chuong's massive ride on tractor now have a home with a very happy little boy on them.

Leaving the cottage however, meant leaving the bath.

Arthur loves a bath.  Its his most favourite thing (after gingerbread goodies and books)

So we had to be a little inventive.  Please don't call social services but....

...a flexible plasterers' bucket does the job nicely!

Gary has also branched into carpentry.  I was worried about this one. Especially as our fingerless window maker told me it was the sign of a good joiner to be missing a few digits.
It was also a good reason to buy a few more power tools and spend more time in B&Q.

It didn't exactly look like an easy job...

Gary used the old floor boards and Steve plained them
down and cut them to size.

Ta dah!

Aren't they amazing?! He has done the most incredible job and is one of his proudest house moments.

The complete stairs means we can safely transport the bath up to the attic.
I had conveniently gone out and missed the photo opportunity of Gary dragging the 200kg bath up the drive on a flimsy pair of wheels.  When I got home it had at least made it this far.

The water will come up to my nose

but how do I tarnish these rather garish feet?!

We also had a favorable article (finally!) written about us.
I was pestered by a local reporter who promised we didn't need to talk about our arrival on Mayhill. I never said I owned the Cheese shop either - but he was using shorthand...
In a previous blog I wrote about my inspirational Jimmy Choo wellies - that would eventually be part of a media campaign; a photograph of me, some mud, a dress and the Yurts.
Instead I opted for an anorak, frizzy hair and a ghastly scarf.  I finish the look with an uncomfortable smile and a crazed looking husband.  Nice one.

 But they make the plot sound beautiful (which it is) and it mentions the community market.  It's directing lots of people to the blog too so hopefully I'll be able to find more interested people from the area and some local producers to work with.

Meet Mr&Mrs Mills of Dursley Cross - Forest of Dean glamping pioneers

Wednesday, February 20, 2013

This is Gloucestershire

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Nicola Mills’ son, 18-month-old Arthur, is asleep in a cot by the front door as we step into a caravan on a rainy, muddy February afternoon.

The family’s temporary home, bought on Ebay after they moved to Gloucestershire from London, sits alongside their Grade II listed farmhouse where husband Gary works to renovate the stripped out interior.

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   Nic and Gary, house

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And at the back of the property on the old Dursley Cross Farm, sits a plot of land which Nicola hopes that, by August this year, will host three 16-foot tents – the start of the Mrs Mills Yurts “glamping” project.

To describe it as ‘ambitious’ barely does justice to the scope of Nicola’s vision for Dursley Cross Farm. Here’s the plan in a nutshell: a renovated farmhouse; a converted barn for the parents-in-law to live in; the yurt campsite; a bed and breakfast within the main house; a community marketplace for local artisan brewers, bakers and other producers to show their wares. Oh, and a smallholding with goats, pigs, ducks and chickens. All alongside raising a family.

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“It’s a big risk,” she says. “We know that. And maybe we underestimated quite how massive this project is going to be. But we are in it now and we have got the experience and the enthusiasm, so we are just going to get on with it.”

The potential really is fabulous. On a clear day, views stretch across the Forest of Dean. An enormous, grassy trench runs alongside where the yurts will be – Nicola tells me it was the old road before the new A40 was built – and it’s a perfect adventure spot for children to play in. And with the main road offering easy access from the Gloucester direction and from Wales, the location’s certainly feasible for a successful business.

So what gives Nicola and Gary such confidence that their grand vision will become reality? Aren’t they the classic, wealthy and overambitious Londoners who fancied a move to the country and have bitten off more than they can chew?

Not so, says Nicola, formerly a fine dining delicatessen and cheese shop owner from Battersea in south west London and also a tea and coffee expert. Gary’s a plumber by trade, either looking for a local sustainable energy firm to work for or considering setting up on his own.

“We are not rich Londoners who just want to have a bash at living in the countryside. I never wanted to bring Arthur up in the city and we had started looking to move long before I got pregnant.

“We knew that we wanted to move to Gloucestershire – then we found this place and fell in love with it. Then we did our market research and decided that glamping was a viable business for us. I’ve run a successful business before, I know a lot about food and produce, and we know this can work.

“And we’ve always liked the area. We holidayed here before and we’ve got friends in Stroud. Gary’s parents Linda and Steve have retired now so they’ve come over too and they’re renting a cottage in Mitcheldean while we get the house finished.”

Planners at Forest of Dean District Council gave the (almost) unanimous go-ahead to the Mills’ proposals late last year.

As you’d expect, there were several objections from residents in May Hill, the village next to the site. Accusations were levelled at the glamping proposal – glamping means “glamorous camping”, by the way – that it was going to cause extra noise and disturbance. One resident reported fears of “all nighters, with lots of champagne, caviar and chat”.

But Nicola rejects any notion that visitors to the site will be an incongruous blight on the area. “People see it as a campsite rather than a glamping site,” she says. “It’s a bit of a lack of understanding really. It’s supposed to be something a bit more upmarket than your regular campsite.

“We’ve got permission for a maximum of five yurts but we’re planning to start off with three and build it up if it’s successful.

“Each one only sleeps four so it’s not going to be a campsite on a big scale. We’re hoping to target couples and young families, like us. After all, it’s much easier to market to the demographic you are in.

“And we’d like people to come here all year round. There will be wood burners in the yurts and they’re surprisingly warm, so people can come here in winter as well.”

So where does the project stand at the moment and what’s the timescale? Well, Nicola admits there’s a lot of work still to do as the work on the house is dominating any prospects of the glamping vision being realised.

But she’s made enquiries with the manufacturers of the £4,000 yurts, even though some tall white sticks in the ground are the only indicator of where the tents will eventually be.

“I’d really like to get some up by the end of the summer but realistically it’s all going to start properly next year.

“I want it to look amazing, so it depends on the weather that we have in the spring and how much we can get done, planting trees and so on.

“But we’re looking forward to the weather getting better and getting started. We’re planning to raise our family here, to be sustainable and make this site a great feature of the community.”

Mrs Mills blog

Read more: http://www.thisisgloucestershire.co.uk/Meet-Mr-Mrs-Mills-Dursley-Cross-Forest-Dean/story-18199369-detail/story.html#ixzz2N3FGNffH
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We've been running around outside in the sunshine too which is reassuring as I know the four walls of the caravan will close in soon.  Who needs soft play when there is grass and trees mud and space.   Arthur did slide down the drive on his nose though which bought a gravelly end to the idillic picture I'm painting.

Elsewhere... The barn project has started.
The roof is fixed and the slates are going on.  Linda and Steve have to now Celotex the whole of the roof and its twice the size of ours.  Then plasterboard.  It is the most mind numbing of jobs and incredibly frustrating.  I think the thought of it has made Steve seriously consider the water-tightness of gazebos.
There is a giant silver chimney and flue on the outside of the roof and the inside is covered in silver foil insulation. There is no electricity there so we are using really hot halogen lights on cables.
I expect we'll all be arrested for growing cannabis as soon as a police helicopter flies over.

I am  now tiling the bathroom between the attic rooms.  The floor has been reinforced and the biggest bath will somehow make it to the top of the house.  Once the top bathroom is finished upstairs we'll go to the barn roof as it's the next race against time before their scaffolding budget runs out.

The top bathroom is a little way off a room.

The scaffolding has come down from the house and quite frankly it it looks more broken than when we started. Windows have been smashed and only half of the bricks have been repointed.  We decided to just get the builders to do half and we can do the rest at leisure (because there is so much leisure)

In fairness, this represents a new roof, new chimneys, a fully insulated third floor and it's half way repointed and water proofed. There are no more cracks, the house is secure and it's not going anywhere for another 300 years.  It's recovering from a big operation and it's been left a little fragile but the bones are strapped and its standing tall.

I've joined the toddler group in the village and am finding friends.  Well, facebook ones - but its a start.  Not sure what they'll think of my moustache profile picture (from the night of the burnt table linen) so I might have to find something slightly more Mummy friendly.

I also went on a WI cheese making course which was amazing.  Linda, Gilly and I made Halloumi, Mascarpone and Mozzarella - and it tasted pretty darn good.  The lovely lady (www.cuttingthecurd.co.uk) has said she'd be interested in doing mini courses for our guests when we are up and running.  Which is pretty awesome.  I'm trying to find other's too by contacting the local food producers and craft enthusiasts who might like to do the same. There is a great pair in the village that make potent country wines from delicious things like Elderflower and Strawberries and not so delicious things such as Marrows and carrots.  Hopefully I can send guests down for a drunken tour and tasting.  Bee stuff, Butchery stuff and sewing stuff also on the list.

Weight watchers is my only other frequent social event - and social being I get to talk to some people outside of the caravan of an evening. Although Linda, Alison and I went for an amazing afternoon tea at The Angel in Abergavnny which will no doubt ensure I'll be the centre of attention at the next weigh in as the only new member to have gone up a dress size in a week.

Not your average afternoon cuppa

A more than average day is spent mindlessly walking the isles of B&Q looking for tiny bits of metal.

...followed by a very average cuppa in the supermarket.

We have had offers of 'out' with some neighbours though, and now we have on-site baby sitters (so I should stop complaining) and we will just have to find time and energy to do it - its about time we started to live here (but I think I might have said that already)

On a down day...

So, I try to write my blog in the most positive of moods.  But it would be misconceiving of me if I didn't tell you what it was like on a down day.

Blind panic.
I want to shut my eyes to it all and it might go away.  Except it won't and I am a god damn adult now who has to sort out this mess (that we got ourselves into) how ever we can.  Otherwise we loose everything.  Sometimes its too big to  think about it.

We are supposed to be moving into the attic in 3 weeks and that is immense pressure.  The stairs to the attic have collapsed, meaning you have to double step upwards teetering dangerously to avoid being stabbed my the metal gypliners that we are using to insulate every nook and cranny of the outside walls.

The work in the attic is so slow, especially when I am an utter eejit at it,  Can't cut plasterboard in a straight line, not strong enough to lift a sheet of celotex and a cack hand with a drill.  So after I've mis-screwed some screws into the side of the plasterboard, missed the wood its supposed to be screwed to behind it and wrecked the plasterboard edges,  I then throw the drill and walk off.  Into another derelict room where I blankly stare, wondering how the hell we'll ever afford to furnish it, heat it, decorate it.

All this is on one of the days Arthur is in Nursery and those days are the days that feel like my days off.  Just the pleasure of being able to make a Sandwich without being interrupted to stop him banging the glass doors with his toys, or from poking his fingers up the dogs nose/bum, or to retrieve the hot cross bun he's just stuffed behind the radiators.

I feel like a total failure on these days and I avoid make-up because that means looking in the mirror.  I wish I was happy with taking the easier route.  I remember saying before we moved that we had to leave London beacuse we couldn't afford another bedroom.  How on earth does that jump to needing an extra three?!

On these days I buy chocolate and get under the duvet.  Which is where I am now writing this post.

My blog is my diary and it has been a very hard few weeks.  I've doubted the entire project, and my mental health.  It is the most frightening task we have ever undertaken and our initial enthusiasm has been worn down by extra cost, winter and sickness.

Now - today is not like that. So please don't worry.  We are back on the horse and fighting fit!
The purpose of writing this post is so I don't look back in 20 years and think it was easy -
I worry that one day we might think...
'Oh Let's retire in France and buy a knackered Chateau.'  Try and do it all again, but with weary bones and a different language.  Just to spice things up a bit, 'cos that Dursley thing was easy!
This is a note to my 60 year old self.
Today - Gary is home from London and holding the whole thing together (as he always does) with his positivity and drive and it's rubbing off on me. 
We have a strict written plan to get us into the attic and I'm buying carpet. 
The daffodils are coming up and things are feeling alive again. 
I have no doubt we can do this today, and do it well.
I'll let you know if we make it into the attic.  I'm going to be a little busy until the end of the month.




 

To en-suite B&B, or not to be?

My 2013 inspirational boots.

Happy New Year! to all.  I hope you are as motivated as we are for 2013.  We raced through Christmas knowing we had to get on - this is going to take us all year, at least.

I may have started to invite everyone to NYE 2013 already - so the pressure is on.
A phone blip meant I lost loads of my photos.  Since a nasty little DC10'er stole my lovely camera in Ibiza, we are a little stuck for visual aid this month.  But I'll do my best.

Since we have successfully received all our planning permissions we have finally breathed a sigh of relief and even, very gratefully, received some Christmas cards from neighbours.  I hope this means we can move on and eventually we won't be the Pariahs on May Hill.  I've joined the W.I in Longhope (our next nearest community) as its a popular one and they have lots of speakers.  All good souls there and I am meeting more nice people who know how to make tea and who don't immediately know me as that Yurt lady come to ruin the village.   My hopes of baking advice are so far dashed - but there is a W.I Cheese making course I am going on, and I've signed myself up for the inter WI Quiz.  Perhaps a little too readily, as I expect there might be the odd question on latin plant names and knitting techniques.  I doubt much will crop up on what is going on with the Kardashians.   I'll have to start some homework, but bearing in mind it is my only social event in the Gloucestershire diary, I'm actually quite excited.

Lack of social interaction means I am rapidly letting myself go.
Stuck halfway between functional country style and London acceptable.
My walking boots are now simply; my shoes.
And I doubt I'll remember how to walk in heels if I ever get to go anywhere that requires a pair.
When panic used to ensue as my Estee Lauder was nearing its end, now I embrace a day or three without make up.  My legs get moisturised when there is a full moon and I skuttled out of the waxing salon with my head hung in shame.  There is no possible time for Gym or preening.  The only real exercise I get is at Soft play with Arthur and trips back to London fill me with self styling fear.  I wondered if a Harris tweed jacket was a good idea the other day.  But this only really works for people Made in Chelsea.
Not Made from Chelsea Bun.
My Jimmy Choo Hunter's are inspirational.  Me, a glam floaty dress and my welly boots surrounded by mud for a piece in Herefordshire and Wye Valley Life.  Ha.  Maybe come summer.

The one thing we have done is find a cinema. We discovered an amazing one in the next town on from us.  I had thought it was a pretty bleak place after we visited a nursery where the kids were sucking felt tips. However, following a tip off from one of the ladies from toddler group we went to The Palace Theatre.  Originally built in 1910 it is apparently one of the oldest purpose built cinemas still operating.  The tickets were only £5.50 each and we bought delicious ice cream for £1.30 and popcorn for £1. The seats were lovely red velvet and there are snug two seater sofas to cosy into on date night.

Gary has mastered the casual lean

Off to the flicks

Just add a G&T in a tea cup

'Do you take Amex?'

It reminded me of the Hyde Park Picture House in Leeds but there were little American deco touches that made it even better (all it really needed was a bar and it would have been perfect) and I kept squealing every time I spotted another nice touch.  Good films too, and the lady behind the pay box was knitting when we left.

We have moved out of the caravan. 

It froze.

We started to hear rumours of a cold snap in mid December.  Local folk started to whisper talk of minus 15.  So I found us a very lovely cottage in a nearby small town (I can walk to a shop again!) with a real fire and a bath.  The cottage is part of a larger holiday rental place which is an incredible conversion of a stunning listed building and barn.  It is the ultimate party house if anyone needs a place for a stag or hen (and there are weddings on the cards!)  With a sauna and steam room, four poster beds and beautiful beams.  The lady that owns it used to design for Agent Provocateur and her style is all over it.  They are about 7 years further down the line than us and it's great to hear how much they've done.

George Cottage, Mitcheldean

Still rocking the Christmas jumper

The day we moved out, the frost moved in.  We turned the water off to the caravan  but the water left in the pipes came out of the taps like curly icicles and the water in the toilet was a block of ice.  The 'double' glazing had ice patterns all over the glass and the butane gas bottle froze too.
So the caravan has now become a sanctuary for the cats.  Don't tell Gary, but they should be nice and snug with the radiators on.
I had a wonderful photo of the Merry Christmas flashing light that adorned the caravan window.  The cats had their very own disco all Christmas.

So, we have until the end of February to get the attic rooms sorted and to move into there.  Ryan came from Cornwall to plaster them, and they almost resemble a proper house!

They are also wired up for lighting - I think I've spent at least a whole day soley dedicated to Christopher Wray lights on Ebay, and ready for the second electric fix.

They will be incredible rooms.  Warm as toast with all the insulation and with incredible lime washed beams full of old nails and notches .  One has an exposed brick fire place and the original Elm stairs will be amazing once they've had a scrub.  We have just finished battling it out over the bathrooms and the B&B potential.    There is a stunning open space between the two bedrooms and we could either carve it up for two small en suites or have a slightly less functional, but all the more beautiful bathroom.  With folding door system which will allow the whole thing to be open so you can look out of the window and across the trees to the farm.  And my vintage light will look like the moon above the deepest cast iron bath.  It means only one bathroom between the rooms though.  Or a private bathroom for only one room.  Or a suite of the entire top floor.  It has taken Gary and I at least 3 weeks to finally get this decision settled. It limits our B&B potential but creates a wicked bathroom for us.  However, there will now be half a tonne of extra weight from the bath and water resting above Arthur's bedroom.

Not as dark as we thought they might be

Exposed brick fireplace

Panoramic view of Attic room 1

We finally decided to keep this as one bathroom, with huge doors that fold back to  reveal an oversized cast iron bath.

The stairs to the attic rooms

For the last 6 weeks or so we have mainly been making the place look worse than it did before. Uncle Graham came again and kept helping with the attic and Steve is tirelessly there - getting braver and braver up a ladder.  The first and ground floors are looking more and more derelict.

All walls are being insulated

But the old plaster has to go somewhere...

I must get Steve to sign an indemnity.

Or should I say Nanook of the North.

Cleo and Kev came for New Year and the last time they were both here was the day we 'moved' in and they were stunned into silence.  We've stripped the walls back to the brick, and lifted the floorboards (to suck out the rats).  Then we've tacked on metal strips and filled the holes with foam.  It looks barbaric and un-sympathetic, but I'm getting used to it (apparently exposed brick in every room just isn't an option) Cleo and Kev didn't say much this time either but it might have been thanks to the punch I made on New Years Eve.
We are a long way from 'after'  In fact, we've gone a fair few steps back from 'before'.

I've been working in the house when I can.  Working on the en-suite to the master bedroom.  Very satisfying.  And now we have another stupidly enormous room to deal with.

The division cuts the window in two

Now what!? Another freestanding bath  I think...

The walls were full of grain and dead snails.

So the next few months are a battle between the house and the business.  If we can work on the land when it gets warm again we might have a hope of opening next summer.  The next big thing is the Ground Source Heat Pump.  Its fascinating, exciting and terrifyingly expensive but means we won't need oil. As Gary wants to start working the renewable side of plumbing, it works on that front too.  We have a real opportunity to have a sustainable life at Dursley Cross.  Especially when we reinstate the well too.  We've had various surveys that estimate the oil bills for the house and barn will be around £6500 a year, plus the cost of the boiler and tank.  We never factored that in!  If we put in the GSHP it runs off thermal energy from our land - from a warren of 2 kilometers worth of 6ft trenches and if the government sorts out the renewable heat incentive then it should pay us back the outlay within 7 years.  But the outlay will more or less wipe us out - and we'll have to wait for the payback to convert the Cider Barn and sort the porch out, and Yurt's 4 & 5 and probably Arthur's school uniform at this rate.   It's really beginning to roll out just how long a project this really is.  But the Government still hasn't introduced the scheme - so at this point in time, its just another outlay - and we are just too scared of doing it without the payback.  We have pretty well acclimatised to countryside cold though and I think its making the decision less prevalent.  Either that, or we're both exhausted on decisions.  Where the hell is Changing Rooms when you need it.

Its been a year since we first came to Dursley Cross.  I found this picture.

This photo was taken exactly a year on.  The snow has arrived and its beautiful.

Our drive

As far as our silly city car could get us.

But not much is happening this week - even thermals aren't a patch on -5 and the fire and bath are a little too tempting in our little cottage.  Even with the in-laws and their MASSIVE dog... Gloucestershire is beginning to feel like home.

Oh yes, and we've employed a new 'numbers' man.
Seeing as though the budget is long gone.