The Old Chapel

Now is the Time to Say Goodbye

2009-09-12T10:35:00.001+01:00

It's hard to believe but it's almost a year since we moved in. And as autumn has come to Rosedale once again, it seems the right time to close. But work goes on. The garden has given us a great deal of pleasure this year but is beginning to fade, as the final flush of the foxgloves in photo three show. And as it matures in years to come, it will continue to do so. Remedial work inside also continues. You can just spot Alan's van as he is in the process of adding extra draft-proofing to the sash-windows which will, I hope, keep us extra comfortable next winter. (At times, it was like living in Wuthering Heights.)

The leave are beginning to turn and the plums are once again ripe for picking. Time to close the doors and batten down the hatches for another winter, although in this Indian Summer we're having, it's hard to believe just how cold it can get here.

Thank you for reading and commenting. It's been a pleasure.

Rosedale Show 2009

2009-08-16T12:54:00.002+01:00

I love a country show, especially when it's the local one and it takes place in the field immediately to the back of our house and garden.

For the past week I've been able to watch progress as the marquees went up, the stalls selling everything from ice-cream to sheepskin rugs, garden benches, portable toilets and cowboy hats were towed in by a succession of vans, lorries and tractors. The morning of the show itself saw a steady stream of cattle-trucks, horseboxes and other assorted vehicles turning into the gate. By midday the lane resembled a busy day on the A1 with car after car making their way, nose to tail, up to the car-park, which for the rest of the year is usually filled with sheep or rooks.

The weather was typically English--fleeting bright sunshine, fluffy white clouds and a couple of hefty downpours which had everyone scuttling for cover, either in the marquees to inspect the cakes, eggs, prize parsnips and flower-arrangements or to grab a hot dog, coffee or tea and buns. There was a moment of high drama, too, when a particularly vicious gust of wind lifted the canvas roof off the beer tent. Fortunately, as far as I know, no-one was seriously hurt although a couple of cars suffered damaged when the improvised giant kite landed in the car park.

But in usual English fashion, a doctor was on hand and a bevy of helpers rushed in to sort everything out. Meanwhile, the show went on and ice-creams, plants, pottery, garden ornaments and farm cheeses were sold, assorted breeds of cattle, sheep, goats, chickens, ducks, rabbits, guinea-pigs and rabbits, were gazed upon and petted by assorted children. The dulcet tones of the Malton White Star Band, resplendent in their royal blue jackets, wafted over the grass and across the dale; the horses brushed and combed to glossy resplendence paraded and later jumped as the sun slid behind the hills and the owls began to call.

Townies may turn their noses up at such a sight but to me it represents everything that's good about the spirit of the English countryside. The show committee work their socks off for nothing putting up signs, directing traffic, selling tickets, dealing with lost children, car-keys and other minor headaches, organising the judging of everything from highland cattle to handwriting competitions for the children. And they're still there now as I type, clearing up the piles of litter (where does it all come from?), taking down fences and returning the field to its quiet self once more. (Until the football season begins again.)

I bought a load of plants which I later transferred to my garden. Meanwhile, the show continued behind me. It was a fabulous day, even thought the beer tent lost its roof, but none of its customers. Never let it be said that misfortune parts a Yorkshire man from his beer. In true Bulldog spirit, the looked up to the open sky, shrugged and carrying on shifting those pints.

Pond Life *

2009-06-25T21:15:00.002+01:00

As with everything in the garden, the pond is work in progress. It all looks a bit raw. The water irises and lilies are hardly lush and the hostas and ferns that will one day scramble lushly over the rocks that surround the waterfall look a bit pathetic. But all the hardware is in place and the electrical wizardry (the waterfall and lights) is in working order. I am particularly pleased with the pedestal pots that the previous owner left lying around. We cleaned them up and re-assembled them and I've planted them with ivy and all-white annuals and the effect is just what I wanted. The water is clear and healthy, judging from the huge number of tiny but fully-formed frogs now hopping out to start their new and exciting lives--well some of them, anyway.

And we have fish. The first to take up residence was one we've had for nearly 20 years. I can't remember how old Andrew was but he announced when he was about 9 or 10 that he wanted goldfish for his birthday. We didn't have a pond then but we bought a big tank and three fishes. I remember Andrew standing in the shop looking very serious as he made his selection. One was almost black, the other was silver and the third pure gold (not orange). Andrew named them Thunder, Flash and Lightning. Unfortunately, for reasons we never discovered, we came downstairs one morning after a few months to find one of them floating on the top of the water. (I can't remember which one because by them they were all beginning to turn the same shade of orange.)

But the two others continued to grow and thrive. One was slightly bigger than the other and always beat his smaller companion to the food. (Not sure which came first- the size or the greed.) The tank sat on the kitchen window sill and before long, Andrew lost interest as other more exciting pastimes took over. He went to senior school, did his GCSEs, A levels, got a job and left home. He didn't want them. Too much trouble, he said. So I continued to clean and feed the fish whose lazy circling of their cramped environment and their delicate trailing tails and fins would soothe my daily chores. with not a little guilt at their captivity.

This continued for many years until about two years ago, the big one became ill and then turned his fins up which left one. Alone, he grew a bit bigger and seemingly sad and lonely.

So, when we began to plan the chapel, we knew we had to have a pond to replace the old one that leaked and was in the wrong position. We were confident it would be ready for our lonely survivor to move into as soon as we arrived. Not so, for reasons that would take too long to explain. He had to be ignominiously housed in a plastic container for the hour or so's journey. Suffice to say, he looked a bit groggy when we got him here but soon returned to his normal lugubrious self in his tank which we put in the utility room. And so he remained throughout the winter and until May.

At last, everything was ready. The water was in perfect condition, the weather clement, the ducks (remember them?) less in evidence. The day arrived to give our fish his freedom. Would he find the hugely enlarged space traumatic. Did fish suffer from agoraphobia or post-traumatic stress disorder? Would he cope with fending for himself and coping with snails, tadpoles and other creatures of the deep?

We needn't have worried. Form the word go, he shot off and raced about the pond as if he'd gone to Fishy Heaven.

But he was still one fish. Time to find him some friends. These came courtesy of John's office where there's a small garden and a pond where the fish breed like rabbits and are overcrowded. The pond is badly neglected and the water littered with crisp packets and plastic cups, the water filthy. So I saw it as yet another rescue mission. They are smaller than our original fellow, paler and one has a red splodge on his nose, but they have certainly grown and all are thriving. Every day I take myself there to stand or sit and am soothed by the sounds and sights of moving water. It's good for the soul and, I hope, good for the fishes too.

* I wonder why we liken the worst kind of people in this world to pond-life? There's nothing more lovely.

A walk up the garden (3)

2009-05-16T14:13:00.002+01:00

Nearly done now. It’s getting steeper, though and wellies might be required after rain.

A copper beech hedge will eventually screen the compost heaps—at present bit of a dumping round. This part of the garden is the home to the Northern Rock (see previous posts.) It will be grassed but I intend to let the grass grow longer here. It’s too steep to mow and I hope to encourage wild flowers. Here are the maples in all their glorious shades of red and green, various bamboos and a terrace of azaleas and rhododendrons.

And that’s about it for now. There’s still more than enough to do. We also need to think about seating and further planting. Meanwhile it’s time for Mother Nature to do her bit.

A walk up the garden (2)

2009-05-16T12:45:00.004+01:00

So, onwards and upwards…but first look to the right a bit (lane-side) and you’ll see one of the newly planted borders. There are three, two are herbaceous and cottagey and the one that curves behind the pond is mainly shrubs. In between the two herbaceous borders there’s a sunken bit where daffodils, hellebores and ferns grow beneath a dawn redwood and another shrubbier tree whose name escapes me for the moment. I’ll think of it eventually. Amelanchier. That's the one.

Beyond the pond there’s a curving line of yew trees beyond which is a second area of lawn that we’ve named the Spring Garden because it already has a carpet of daffodils (now in their scruffy dying-back stage), crocuses and bluebells. Further up still is the little formal knot-garden with its low box hedging. This is still in progress and has not yet been fully planted. Again, the top part of the bird-bath (the huge stone leaf) was left behind by the previous owner who used it as part of a waterfall. Now with a new pedestal it forms the focal point of the little garden. (I don’t know what the stone is but it turns the water a strange crimson colour. Another quirk of our strange garden.)

Catch your breath, turn round and look back down the garden towards the chapel and across the dale to the western bank. My favourite, favourite view…now up we go again…

A walk up the garden (1)

2009-05-16T12:27:00.003+01:00

Those among you who have been reading this blog right from the beginning (and if not, why not?) will know that the garden is a bit unusual. It extends from the east side of the chapel with its conservatory and terrace and follows steep Heygate lane up the bank in the shape of an isosceles triangle. (For the geometrically challenged, it tapers gradually to practically nothing.) Beyond is a tangle of undergrowth, then Heygate farm and the open moors where you will find no further habitation (except a ruined shepherd’s cottage which I covet) until, after 8 glorious miles, the road drops down over a ford and into the wooded Eskdale village of Egton Bridge.

Right; back to the garden. Follow me…

Out of the conservatory, across the stone terrace and up the steps onto the lawn. (The stone planters, as well as the wire trough baskets, were left by the previous owner and will be planted up with annuals as soon as the danger of frosts has passed.)

Just beyond the garage, which is on your left, is the partly planted (and therefore still rather sparse) heather and conifer bed. Further on and to the right is the not-quite-completed pond and its rockery and waterfall which has been planted with ferns and hostas.

The fourth picture is taken from just behind the garage where my new super-duper washing carousel whizzes round like the clappers in the northerly gales that sweep down from Northdale. You can also catch a glimpse of the little beck that tumbles down from the moor to join the Northdale Beck just after the Milburn Arms.

Unfortunately, Blogger only allows me to post four photos at a time. The stroll up the garden continues…

Garden Progress

2009-04-19T22:25:00.000+01:00

More lawn and one of the new mountain ash trees. Every week it looks less of a building site and more and more of a garden. But there's still a long way to go and an awful lot of watering--with regular breaks for duck chasing.

Intruder Alert!

2009-04-14T11:37:00.001+01:00

First it was one of the domesticated ducks from the field across the lane. He wandered in and then couldn't get out, eyed the pond with curiosity and not a little fear and waddled away. He was easily dealt with. But just the other day this pair flew in and seem to have taken a shine to our half-finished pond and despite being shooed off repeatedly, always return.

Of course I am terribly torn. They seem to be a devoted couple, they're peaceful and quiet and pretty. But then again, having looked up various websites about the mallard duck (for such they are) it appears that they'll wreck the garden, poo everywhere and maybe introduce infection and algae not to mention scupper any chances we have of keeping goldfish. The fact is that this, as can be seen from the paving slabs that overhang the edge (to deter herons), and the spotlights around the perimeter--not yet connected--is intended to be an ornamental pond, not a wildlife haven--although we have frogs and they're welcome.

As yet, they seem not to have nested or laid eggs although it could be any day now and once that happens the law prevents us from harassing them in any way until the ducklings hatch and are on their way--so it's now or never. Advice on the net says that chasing them off eventually works--after all, it's not as if there isn't plenty of water around here; there's a small village pond and two small rivers and they can fly, for goodness sake, but I really do feel a real meanie. especially when they look at me with those big black eyes.

And now look what they've done. They've made me all anthropomorphic, which I hate. Repeat after me. They are pests and need to go. They are pests and they need to go. They are pests and....

Any suggestions? (The first person to mention a gun will be banned.)

Rosedale's secret

2009-04-10T11:20:00.001+01:00

People who visit the North York Moors National Park often (and the Park Authority itself) will wax lyrical about the wild daffodils that grow in great profusion along the River Dove in neighbouring Farndale. People arrive by the coach-load to partake of the Daffodil Walk and finish up supping tea and buns at the Daffy Cafe. Painters set up their easels, cameras flash, children trample and shriek and big notices tell you that they (the daffs, not the children) are protected and that you must not pick them.

But, all I have to do is cross two fields from the chapel (on a public footpath) following the Northdale Beck and there they are...Rosedale's very own wild daffodils. They also grow alongside the Seven. (Rosedale divides into two distinct dales above Rosedale Abbey where the two rivers converge.) And hardly anyone knows about them. No coaches, no river banks eroded by the tramp of day-trippers, just thousands of dainty flowers. There are cultivated daffodils a-plenty in Rosedale of course, in the gardens, on the road verges and in the fields. And they do gladden the heart after winter's deprivations but they seem big, brash and blousy in comparison with their wild cousins.

But I must add a warning. It's difficult to believe but less than five minutes after I took these pictures, I was up to my ankles in a bog. In my attempts to pull my feet out, I fell over onto my knees and hands and ended up plastered in iron-rich mud. That was bad enough but I had my small camera in my right hand at the time. It ended up coated in thick, brown, gloop so it resembled a chocolate camera rather than the slim cream object it should be. Once home and showered, I set to cleaning it up and after two days of sulking because it was cold and wet, it has now fully recovered.

Footnote: an old English country name for the flower is Lent Lilies. I prefer it. Daffodil sounds so...well...Daffy.

The Northern Rock: Up and Down

2009-04-06T09:40:00.000+01:00

The Northern Rock or Zigmond's Folly

2009-03-28T20:41:00.003Z

It seems such a long time ago that we decided we wanted to do something spectacular in the garden.

You may remember that the garden is a strangely elongated isosceles triangle that rises steeply away from the chapel/house to its apex. Does that make sense? Probably not.

Anyway, we felt we needed something to draw the eye up to the garden's farthest point which is when Jon hit on the idea of some sort of stone monolith. This was partly in tribute to the many such stones that have been erected over the years all over the moors here from the earliest times. They later were fashioned into crosses but we decided to stick to something more basic.

Chance so happened that Drings, the local stone yard had just taken delivery of a massive piece of sandstone quarried somewhere near Doncaster. This would normally be broken up into manageable pieces but we nabbed it.

That was a couple of years ago. In fact, if you can be bother to track back to my earliest posts you should find it. Ah, here it is!

Then of course we needed planning permission (granted) and then we needed to find out how it could be delivered and set in place and how much it would all cost. This is what took the time. I won't bore you with the tedious details--partly because I don't remember them and get confused with tonnage and weight ratios but, having turned down silly prices from some crane-hire companies and learned that the steepness of the hill and the width and weight of crane required meant that we'd never get it in place as it was, we decided to slice the rock into three vertically and slice a chunk from the bottom. The pieces were then to be arranged slightly off kilter. Still with me?

Eventually we found a very accommodating crane company who together with Drings delivered the rocks a couple of weeks ago. This necessitated closing the road for a couple of hours. The farmer up the lane was quite happy, the locals were amused by our idiocy rather than annoyed. In fact, the only people who got a bit hot under the collar were some tourists in a Range Rover--who'd come up against the 'road closed' sign at the cattle grid further up the lane, had carefully removed the bollards only to find themselves face to face with a huge waggon. When asked why they ignored the sign (which was placed where they could easily turn round and take an alternative route to the village said "we wanted to know why the road was closed."

They soon found out.

It was a beautiful, if blustery day. The work was carried out quickly and efficiently by hard-hatted (but not hearted) men from the crane company, Drings, ably and professionally assisted by Ian and Brian who'd built the concrete base and been part of the whole process from its earliest days.

All in all, a successful and good-hearted day and we have now got a big talking point in the garden. Cars come to a virtual halt as they pass. Idiots we may be but as the feature is not likely to disappear for a very long time, if ever, we feel we've made our mark on the local landscape.

The green, green grass of home.

2009-03-24T21:00:00.000Z

Just when you thought it was all over, I'm here again!

A brief spell of spring sunshine meant that the first bout of turf-laying could begin. Days of cloudless blue skies meant that some poor idiot had to get out with the hosepipe every day. (The water pressure in the village is rubbish and won't operate a sprinkler although Yorkshire Water assure us it's high. Mmm.)

Fortunately we are now experiencing a spell of rain and showers. Spring is so much later here than anywhere else. The daffodils are only just out and the only the hawthorn seems to be trying to produce leaves. The garden is going to take several years to resemble anything other than a wasteland.

Remember the Northern Rock? It looks like it will finally be put in place this Friday. I'm not holding my breath.

More Snow

2009-02-04T11:00:00.000Z

But not, it would seem, as much as they got in London. But hey...it's prettier up here--and we don't make a fuss.

New for 2009

2009-01-24T16:58:00.001Z

Just when you thought it was all over, here's a reminder that we've not quite finished yet. We now have gates though and the last of the curtains went up a couple of days ago. All we're waiting for now are the curtain blinds. This doesn't mean there are no other ouststanding building jobs but they're all a case of crossing the I's and dotting the T's than anything else--apart from the garden which, new plants notwithstanding, is still a wasteland.

And here's another frost picture; this one showing a small section of the conservatory roof.

Roll on Spring!

Happy Christmas!

2008-12-25T12:26:00.000Z

And yet more snow . . .

2008-12-04T21:46:00.000Z

Frosted glass

2008-11-29T15:14:00.000Z

I don't think I've ever seen anything as beautiful as the pattern last night's heavy frost and this morning's glorious sunshine left on our rooflights this morning. You'd pay goodness knows how much for an artist to come up with anything half as breath-taking as this but nature does it for free. Fabulous.

November Snow

2008-11-24T14:34:00.000Z

Not much to add to the photos as they are self-explanatory, except that it first snowed overnight on the Friday. Saturday dawned grey which later turned to brilliant sunshine and biting cold winds. It snowed again heavily in the afternoon and then again overnight. The thaw began on Sunday and today rain has cleared it all but a few north-facing pockets. I hate the disruption snow brings but you can't deny how pretty everywhere looks!

But there's still . . .

2008-11-20T12:57:00.001Z

. . . a load of junk the builders have to clear away, both outside and in the garage. We have been reliably informed that it will all be gone by tomorrow. Not sure about the caravan, though. It may have been moved to the car-park next door but it's still very visible. I think from the way it's slowly turning green that it's taken root.

We still have a snag list, mostly small things it has to be said, although we are concerned about a leak from one of the rooflights. It only happened once when there was very heavy rain from the east but it's going to be a b****er to fix as it's slap bang above the conservatory which is going to make ladder/scaffolding access difficult. Other decorating jobs, including painting the garage floor, will have to wait until the spring. And there's still quite a bit of iron work to be done. What is it about iron-forgers and blacksmiths? They all seem to work to their own clock which runs far slower than everyone else's.

And then there's the garden (sorry, wasteland) . . .

Update (3)

2008-11-20T12:51:00.000Z

The conservatory, in and out.

Update (2)

2008-11-20T12:48:00.000Z

Outside paving and gravel:

Update (1)

2008-11-20T12:42:00.000Z

As the season tunrs from autumn to winter--snow is forecast for the coming weekend--progress has been intermittent and slow. But we have now got curtains (in descending order) in the dining area, the downstairs spare bedroom (now ready for visitors), the sitting area and our bedroom.

The Bare Bones

2008-11-02T12:51:00.002Z

November is not a good time for any garden. But when the garden in question barely exists, it can be depressing. Then again, a shape and a structure exits; all it needs is plants, warmth and sunshine. Here are the bare bones of a small formal garden and its box hedging. (I think I've already mentioned somewhere that the leaf-shaped birdbath was rescued from the old pond where it had been used as part of a long-since defunct waterfall.) The second photo shows the wall Peter has built around the tree which we thought was a larch because that's the only deciduous conifer I could name but, thanks to a passer-by who happened to be a tree-expert, we found out is a metasequoia or dawn redwood. It has yet to lose its leaves this year like most of the ash trees that line our boundary with the field at the back, although the one immediately behind the chapel is completely bare. And finally, the view towards the west looking distinctly autumnal.

Progress, inside and out

2008-10-21T16:51:00.001+01:00

The terrace is now finished and the soil is almost ready for turf. The garage now has doors as has the upstairs gym (not shown) although the windows aren't yet finished. Peter has planted the small formal garden using box plants that were already in the garden and using as a centrepiece a stone 'leaf', once a waterfall (defunct) in the old pond and will now revert to its original purpose--a bird bath. Meanwhile Jon and I continue to hang our pictures. We've finished the ground floor and the staicase and are on to the gallery and bedrooms.

There's still an awful long way to go.

A walk round Rosedale Abbey

2008-10-20T16:59:00.001+01:00

The Milburn Arms is the 'pub next door' although when we do go for a drink we go to The Coach House Inn round the corner or the White Horse Farm up the Chimney Bank in both of which you'll find a lively crowd of locals. The Abbey Stores is the hub of the village. It caters for tourists with its tea rooms, ice-cream, maps and guide books and for everyone and anyone as it sells almost everything you need. Anne who runs both (and bakes all the cakes, scones and biscuits) knows everyone and everything you need to know. The stores face the main village green which is dominated by a sycamore tree. The 'little' green has a long way to catch up. Its tree (which if I remember correctly is some sort of prunus) was planted for the Millennium but it is smothered in daffodils in the spring. The row of cottages are in fact the rear of the primary school which is next to the church. The village used to have a post office but that was closed about five years ago and is now a private house. (and don't get me started on post office closures.)
The village is pretty much Victorian built fore the miners who descended on the dale en masse to dig out iron-ore and sent it by rail to Teesside. There are about half a dozen terraces each of about six cottages. Records show that the cottages, half of which are now holiday lets or weekend cottages or lived in by families of no more than fours once housed families of ten or more people. They are well-built but must have been dark and cramped. Quite a few of them were shops. I wonder whose idea it was to design them, not as typical miner's rows such as at School Row or Hill Houses further up the dale but with pointed gables and in places, Gothic arched doors and windows. Presumably, they took their inspiration from the ruined priory crumbling behind the church. What a pity they also took most of the stones as well, thus speeding its destruction until virtually nothing is now left.

A walk round Rosedale Abbey cont.

2008-10-20T16:26:00.001+01:00

The 'Give Way' triangle marks where Heygate Lane on which our chapel stands and which leads over the moors and eventually to Whitby. Here it meets the main road that runs north-south from Castleton to Pickering. The chapel you can just spy in the distance is the 'other' one which is bigger than ours and divided into 3 houses. It confuses delivery drivers no end but the locals know the difference. That one is the 'Primnitive' chapel and we are the 'Wesleyan', both Methodist and both unused for worship for quite some time.
The church of St Lawrence is still in use and this is the churchyard, also still being used for burials. The single story building in the third photo is the home and workshop of Stephen Gillies and Kate Jones of Gillies-Jones Glass on Milk Street and used to be the village blacksmiths. The last phot is of another house on Milk Street which many years ago was the village reading room (where presumably the iron miners could read newspapers and a selection of books.)

Spot the ball

2008-10-14T09:06:00.001+01:00

I took this just outside the back door so you can see just how easy it is to support Rosedale Abbey FC playing their home matches; here in purple against Thornton-le-Dale in blue. Alas, we was robbed and went down 1:2 after a last minute header by the opposition. I was sick as a parrot all weekend. The winning team were, as you might expect, over the moon.

Still getting straight....

2008-10-14T08:54:00.001+01:00

...and we're still in a bit of a mess (protective mats on floor as builders are still tramping in and out and dust ever present). We are also still in the process of hanging pictures, although more have gone up on the walls since I took these pictures. We haven't got curtains yet apart from in our bedroom. But it's slowly beginning to feel like home.

A Short Excursion

2008-10-10T17:26:00.002+01:00

There can't be many places where you go and do the weekly supermarket shop and see this...
and this, hardly a stone's throw from the car-park

Yes, you keen-eyed observers, you, this is Whitby which is a mere half an hour's car ride over the moors from our new home. Then again, it is another world. Although Whitby is still Yorkshire, the people have a north-eastern, almost Geordie, lilt to their voices and you might as well be in another country for the total contrast in tone and outlook. Mist hung low over Rosedale Abbey when we left and as we climbed up over the moors we were soon plunged into thick fog which prevented us from enjoying the view over Glaisdale, but having dropped sharply down through the allied villages of Egton Bridge and Egton and into Whitby the sun was blazing and there was a summery feel about the place. Between the Co-op supermarket that replaces what was the old and squalid fish quay and the harbour, is a modern plaza, where stands a memorial to local man Captain William Scoresby and his equally pioneering son, also William. The memorial consists of a pole topped by a crow's nest because William Senior invented it. (Scoresby Junior is considered by some to be the true inventor of the ship's compass.)

Between that and the harbour wall stood a man in fisherman's cap and jersey playing the accordion and singing sea-shanties. with a puppet dancing at his feet. All very touristy, of course, but he had a superb voice and his evocative words of hardship and far-away travel flung my spirits skywards over the sea. Whitby and its people have always been outward-facing (there are Whitbys all around the world) and therefore open-minded and welcoming. I love it.

A Brief Reminder...

2008-10-06T18:07:00.001+01:00

...before I get round to taking up-to-date photos, of why we chose to settle in Rosedale Abbey. The first photograph is what I see when I walk out of my front door and immediately turn to my right.

The second is St Lawrence's Church and what remains of the Priory which is 2 minutes walk away.

The third is the view from halfway down Rosedale Chiumney Bank--10 minutes walk or more like 20 if you're me, as it's steep--showing the eastern extremities of the village along Heygate Lane, including the chapel.

And finally, the whole village is seen nestling in its dale.

These pictures were taken in Spring. Two years ago actually but nothing's changed, except the chapel. Now it's Autumn the scenery is even more stunning as the trees quietly evolve into a tapestry of browns, golds and red and smoke from the chimneys mingles with pools of mist slipping down from the moors.

One Man and his Digger

2008-09-30T09:43:00.000+01:00

And still the work goes on. Here's Ian last Saturday levelling out the top soil which has spent the past six months or so in a huge heap. It looks better now--at least it's flat-- but we'll now have to wait until March until turf can be laid.

Moving In

2008-09-30T09:35:00.001+01:00

This photo was taken bright and early on Tuesday 23rd September. The previous day had been spent loading up the van at our old house after which Jon and I drove to the chapel to spend our first night on the floor of what was (and is) still a work in progress. It has taken a week of hard graft to get to the point where I can sit down and resume blogging--mainly because we were only reconnected to the Internet yesterday. (I find it incredible how much the world wide web has become essential over the past few years. For example, the TV still isn't connected as we're waiting for a satellite guru to come back from his hols. I don't miss the TV one bit but not being able to go online has been like living without an arm and a leg.

Waiting for the Blogger

2008-09-19T12:05:00.001+01:00

Doesn't my new built-in desk look lonely and forlorn? Imagine it in a week or so's time loaded with PC and attendant paraphernalia, leads, plugs, printer, phone, books, folders, files, paper and one very busy blogger catching up....

See you soon.

Good Things

2008-09-18T08:09:00.002+01:00

This post is going to be the last for some time. I have already moaned about the fact that internet access at the chapel will take some time to arrange and perfect. And for those who have suggested super-duper wifi, please be advised that the village has no mobile phone signal, although Alan, the joiner, when working on the roof-ridge, almost fell off when his mobile began to trill. Even so, dedicated as I am to keeping the world informed of my fascinating life, I will not be shinning up the slates with a laptop any time soon.

So, feast your eyes longingly on the these three photos. First is the balustrading in all its glory. (Plenty of Wow Factor here.) Next are the shutters for the stained glass windows.

And finally, a last look at the horrendous mess as well as a sneak preview of the steps leading up from the front door. In case you've forgotten, we had to raise the ground floor otherwise we would not have been able to see out of the windows built to allow celestial light to fall upon the chapel's congregation without allowing them to divert their attention from the service.

Sink or Swim

2008-09-18T07:49:00.001+01:00

And still moving day creeps ever closer and although an awful lot has been done in the week since our last visit, there's still a huge amount to finish. In fact, although we had hoped that all the work inside would have been done and dusted by the time we took up residence, this is just not going to happen. Norton Joinery have left it to the very last minute to deliver the mdf panelling for the stairs. Then it needs fitting and painting. However, time is needed to wax-seal the ground floor which needs a good 48 hours to dry. Therefore, everybody and all their junk has to be out and everything washed and swept before this work can be done and readied for Monday evening when we arrive (minus goods and chattels.) The timetable is roughly this: the panels are fitted today (Thursday) and then clearing and cleaning begins. Robin will be left alone (his preferred state) to seal the floor on Friday and nobody but him will be allowed to put one socked toe over the threshold until Sunday afternoon (on pain of instant execution, or so I've been told.) It wasn't supposed to be like this. It was all going to be so organised and smooth. Ha. And Jon and I would be so calm and unstressed. Ha again.

Good things. The double sink is in the kitchen and the single is in the utility room. I love the newly-fitted taps. I was playing with them yesterday like an Amazonian who'd never seen instant hot and cold running water before. Magic. The underfloor heating is working and is being kept on low. Even so, it felt pretty cosy inside the chapel yesterday as autumn mists and mellow fruitfulness began to take a hold outside.

Almost there

2008-09-11T09:35:00.001+01:00

The chapel resembled a builders' convention when we arrived yesterday. Mike and Brian were busy concreting the garage floor and inside the chapel eight men were beavering away; three joiners, two blacksmiths, one decorator, one electrician and one kitchen fitter and of course, Ian and Steve, made ten. Once we squeezed ourself in there were twelve bods in total, including me, the token female.

The balustrades are being fitted at the rate of knots, the new oak front door is in place as well as the stone flags on the conservatory floor. One by one, rooms are being finished and shut to avoid dust getting on the newly sealed wooden floors. Our bedroom and shower room is more or less done as is the bathroom and two spare bedrooms. The utility room is shaping up as is the cloakroom.

But still there seems an awful lot to do before we move in. One week, five days and counting. Only one more Wednesday visit and one more blog entry.

That's the good news. The bad news is that I wanted to wind up this blog with a flourish: loads of 'after' photos of the chapel fitted and more or less furnished. Unfortunately, there are broadband access problems to be ironed out before I can. Too tedious and technical to recount here (even if I understood it) the upshot is that we won't have any internet access for a long time after we move - maybe months - and even then it will be slow. Bear with me. I will put up photos to round everything off when I can.

It's Official!

2008-09-05T14:45:00.002+01:00

We're moving in on September 23rd.

Do you think someone ought to tell the builders?

Many Men and More Mud

2008-09-05T14:32:00.001+01:00

Top picture shows Stephen Murdie, surveyor, clip board in hand, surveying the newly installed granite work tops whilst the second shows a rather startled Richard Patterson in the process of polishing them. Whatever he was using was pretty heady stuff and Anthony, who was working off-camera in a cupboard (don't ask) had to go out and get some fresh air before he floated off over the dale, giggling. I am so thrilled by the granite and particularly the island unit which is large enough to dissect an elephant on. I am now planning what to put on it--aside from an elephant. Large lamp? Huge flower display? Mega fruit bowl? Mmmm...maybe an elephant isn't a bad idea, after all. Lets see. A dark blue elephant or maybe pink....

Picture three shows the back of Alan's head and Carl Wood, his boss, fitting the gallery balustrading. (What a perfect name for a joiner, by the way.) The final shot is of Mick and Brian sorting out the garden levels by building a retaining wall. We had hoped that the garden would be drying out now but yet another episode of heavy rain has once more turned it into a veritable ocean of sludge.

How could I forget...

2008-08-28T14:03:00.001+01:00

The staircase? I was so taken aback by the stained glass that I forgot to mention it. As the photo shows, it's nowhere near finished - thanks mainly to Flaxton Forge - and reaching the first floor still requires a wrestle with a steep ladder. The structure won't be open underneath, which I think is a shame, but Jon insists we need (by which he means 'he') need storage space. Alan, seen above, is beavering away with hammer and chisel and everyone says it will look fabulous when it's finished. When being the operative word.

Long Day

2008-08-28T12:31:00.000+01:00

We left home bang on 9am yesterday because we had arranged to meet Peter Silk and Lizzie at the chapel at about 11am to make final decisions regarding curtains, blinds and upholstery. We'd left it until then because we were waiting to see the colour and design impact of the stained glass in the downstairs windows which Alan only installed on Monday. (He needed a totally dry day and they've been in rather short supply lately.)

When we first met them, we thought that Peter and Lizzie were an item until we realised our mistake and that they are work colleagues only. It was the the way they both understood each other's quirks and foibles and swapped quips and insults that fooled us rather like Channel 4's Kirstie and Phil. Peter is more of the artisan with his saggy jacket and bulging pockets, references to bacon butties and his dexterity with a tape measure whereas Lizzie is the artistic type from whom cultural references drop with the easy assurance of an expert. Her style is understated elegance in her clothes as well as her choices and I trust her completely. And she makes me laugh which is a huge plus.

I digress. Back to the stained glass. The long and winding road that has been this project from the beginning has dulled my spirits but for For the first time in ages I was thrilled. Maybe the fact that the sun blazed forth when we arrived and continued to do so all afternoon. There's nothing like a radiant blue sky and the sun on your back to life the spirits. Of course, I'd seen the pieces in the workshop and was familiar with the sketches but seeing them in situ was quite a different matter. I had thought we wouldn't be able to see anything through them but that's not the case. The lane is clearly visible. Much as I love the peace and quiet that Rosedale Abbey offers the lane is never quiet and there's always something passing by, be it farm vehicles, horses and coaches and I had feared that the stained glass would cut us off in our own little world. It hasn't and I'm thrilled. A village must have life, colour and movement or it becomes a postcard museum piece.

Anyway, Between the four of us, we chose the main fabric for the sitting area, a toning fabric for the dining area and kitchen blinds and curtains and the upholstery for the settle and our two sets of dining chairs (eleven in all. a ridiculous amount for the two of us but we can't bear to relinquish them!)

Peter and Lizzie didn't leave until 2pm ('I shall force-feed him sandwiches on the way back to keep up his strength', said Lizzie as we said goodbye, after which he gobbled down a picnic lunch and dashed to our customary weekly meeting with Ian and Steve. Progrerss continues with decorating and nowe the downstairs bedroom is all but finished. As usual, there were niggles to iron out. Flaxton Forge seeme to have got the message at last and the staircase balusters will be with us soon but we continue to be worried about Richard Patterson and his team. They are working steadily but are way behind schedule but he insists he'll be finished by the 19th September. Ian now informs us that although everything else will be finished inside by that date, the final coat of oil on the oak floor will need about 48 hours to dry so that means we probably won't move in until Tuesday 23rd to be on the safe side.

The pond is at last beginning to like a pond. The water is clearing and plants have been temproarily planted. We are still waiting for Anthony to fit the lights in the paving slabs beforer Peter can fix them in place. After that the fish can move in to their new home as well. The sticks in the soil on the picture immediately above mark where Peter is going to plant a small formal garden area with a stone bird-bath in the centre (left behind by the previous owner), gravel paths, box pyramids and box-hedged beds. Difficult to work out, I know, but I think he knows what he's doing!

An hour of peace

2008-08-25T12:04:00.002+01:00

Not too much to report about chapel progress this week. It's not that nothing is happening but that niggles and delays are proving frustrating and therefore stressful. We have to be out of our current house by 29th September and now it looks as if the chapel interior may not be completely finished. The main culprit is still Flaxton Forge for all the usual reasons. Richard Patterson and his team, who are making all fitted cupboards etc, are working well but it seems they underestimated how long the work would take. Ian has asked them to concentrate first on the stuff that needs to be painted so that the decorators aren't hanging around which means that the ash furniture (kitchen, bookcase, my desk) will be the last to be finished.

We were not hugely looking forward, then, to last Wednesday's visit. As usual, though, Jon went for a run and this time chose St Gregory's Church in Kirkdale as our 'base'. Situated in a wooded valley not far from Kirby Moorside and therefore the chapel, the church dates back to Saxon times and although it's still in use, nowhere could be more tranquil. Sheep crop the turf in the old graveyard (the current one is across the lane), rooks call from the ancient trees, the breeze flutter through the leaves and most visitors are suitably subdued. I am not a believer yet always am at peace in a church. There's something about the coolness, the silence of the stone and the sense of age that never fails to calm me. Not far from the church is a cave in the limestone valley sides where, in 1821, quarrymen discovered a huge quantity of animal bones including those of lions, bears and rhinoceroses. An Oxford geologist hastened to the scene and surmised (correctly) that it had once been a lair for a pack of hyenas, concluding (incorrectly) it was proof of the Flood. Current opinion dates the bones as over 75,000 years old. No wonder I felt a benign sense of continuous history in the secluded valley and no feeling that any unpleasantness had ever happened there.

And so after breathing in calmness and peace and a sense of the pettiness of my anxieties and Jon having returned from pounding the footpaths we set off for the chapel a little more optimistic than we had been on leaving home.

Five weeks to go . . .

2008-08-14T20:02:00.001+01:00

There's no turning back now. We have given notice to complete the sale of our current house on September 29th so if the chapel isn't finished by then, we'll be homeless. However, Ian reckons the chapel interior will be finished a week before that and we are trying to believe him. Mind you, judging by yesterday's visit there still seems a heck of a lot to do before we can move in. Loo seats, anyone? The outside work won't be anywhere near finished but we are prepared to cope with that. As the photos show we now have a staircase although it is still in bits and pieces and probably won't be properly in place for several days. Here's me gazing at the bottom end. It all looks very odd - and strangely large - from that angle. It's a three-dimensional jigsaw puzzle. Alan has already discovered that one bit supplied didn't fit properly but after a lot of discussion and scratching of heads - see Ian to the left (!) - it all fits now. Richard and Ryan are shown in the photo below starting work on my pride and joy, the bookcase in the breakfast area. I can't wait to fill it up - it won't take long.

Meanwhile in Harrogate, Peter Silk has collected several large pieces of furniture to be re-upholstered, mended and refurbished. When done, they'll be delivered straight to the chapel. Meanwhile, we're eating off garden tables and chairs - inside, of course. Good thing as it's been bucketing down for the past week. John is working on an old table we're hoping to get rid of soon and I'm camped out with my PC in the dining-room. Rooms and walls are rapidly emptying - we've taken down those paintings, prints etc that won't be coming with us - and the house feels cold and characterless; in fact, just a house, rather than a home.

Back in Rosedale Abbey, Aurora have been read the Riot Act and have sent someone round to make good, although we've discovered some more places where wood needs replacing. The oil tank is now in place and Jon has arranged for it to be filled next week. (Trust us to have to be moving to an oil-only area just as the price has gone through the roof) and the chapel is full of stuff - builders' stuff, that is, not ours although Anthony has already put up one of our own light-fittings so maybe it won't be long before it feels like home. Fingers crossed.

The Good, the Bad and the Downright Shoddy

2008-08-08T10:21:00.002+01:00

So near and yet so far. Yesterday's visit showed once again that Ian and his team are working flat out on the necessary but boring unsung work like building the base for the oil tank and the stone wall to help camouflage it - and taking pride in every stone and joint, whilst others, in particular Flaxton Forge (who are making the balusters for the staircase and gallery, not to mention supports for the kitchen island unit) and Aurora Conservatories, are proving a real headache, the first by never answering calls as if manana is too urgent a concept, the second by being, well, bad. You remember how their first error was to measure the conservatory roof wrongly? Bceause of that, they had to go back to the workshop, leaving the shell of the building exposed to the elements for several weeks. This meant that the glazing bars are already warping and coming loose. In fact, the standard of workmanship has totally unsatisfactory all round. We're tempted to knock the whole thing down and start again. There are gaps between the door-frame you can see daylight through, the scribing between the chapel wall and conservatory frame looks like it was done by children and will soon leak. The second photo of one of the glazing bars is just one of many examples of shoddy workmanship and the second a total lack of attention to detail. It may seem trivial to complain that two adjacent screws don't match but when you're paying top notch, you expect no less. Aurora pride themselves on being a first class bespoke conservatory company. The evidence belies that claim. And they keep sending bills which will not be paid until they get the message that their work is unacceptable.

But there is good news. Robin and Tom are back with their paintbrushes and rollers and are such fun to chat to. (Tom has promised us some plants for our pond.) Alan continues to do a brilliant job fitting doors and Richard and Ryan work on (albeit slowly) fitting kitchen units and other cupboards. And the staircase is arriving next week - at last!

Oh and in case you were puzzled by the first photo, we are not setting up an illegal distillery behind the garage. These are the newly installed and rapidly filling rainwater butts. Lift the lids and breathe deeply . . . they used to contain whisky. After muttering and moaning over bad workmanship, a good sniff of that makes everything rosy again. It needs to be. We'll be moving in within six weeks . . .

It's all happening! (2)

2008-07-31T12:06:00.000+01:00

1. Malc looks into the new boiler.

2. Alan welcomes us to our new bathroom door.

3. Anthony has fitted the gallery spotlights.

4. The conservatory is almost finished, the terrace is ready to be flagged and the ground almost ready for turf.

It's all happening now! (1)

2008-07-31T12:00:00.000+01:00

1. Peter (Capability) Coote ploughs the garden.

2. The gym (above the garage) takes shape.

3. The base for the 2 water barrels under construction. They used to contain whisky and smell wonderful.)

4. The low wall to prevent the ditch flooding over our land in winter is almost finished.

Earth, Wind, Water and Fire

2008-07-24T16:01:00.001+01:00

At last, summer has arrived but unfortunately it brought with it constant sneezing for Jon and sore eyes for me, which wasn't helped by the bonfire the builders had lit to get rid of old wooden packing cases. The wind was swirling the smoke everywhere making our throats burn and eyes sting. But it was good to see the weather vane (mad cyclist, which we thought was apt) was up and spinning, even if Ian didn't seem to know exactly where north was despite his having lived in the village for over 20 years. Jon took his trusty compass and waved it about a bit so matters are in hand.

Peter was cutting the flags to fit around the pond. He hasn't concreted them in yet, hence the wonky teeth look.

We now have a bath with cold running water!!! (The boiler hasn't been fitted yet) As well as one functioning loo, although we didn't want to put it to the test at this early stage so my usual trip to the village public conveniences was unchanged. The kitchen continues to take shape and the stove, fridge and dishwasher will be arriving on Friday. We are visiting again on Saturday with Robin and Clare so will have a good look at them then.

No news on the staircase yet (we didn't dare ask how they got the bath up the ladder) and now we've just heard that the electricity bods can't come and resite the meter or put the new cables underground from the post until the end of August. We arranged and paid for the job last year and they said that once the builders were ready, they only needed 10 days' notice to come and do the job. It seems their days are in fact weeks. Unbelievable.

Oh and finally, I couldn't resist including the photo of the heather in bloom across Spaunton Moor. It's a reminder of why we want to move to Rosedale Abbey. The heather is at its very best now. Unfortunately, it'll be the grouse-slaughtering season soon and the air will be full of loud bangs and the roads clogged with city men looking silly in tweeds, cloth caps and green wellies and guns they don't know how to handle.

Positive Progress

2008-07-17T11:49:00.001+01:00

It was exciting to step out of the car on yesterday's visit and be able to see changes immediately. The garage roof is almost done. Ian has sourced second-hand slates. They look wonderful. The architects had mentioned new ones in their spec. I wonder why. They seem a bit behind the times. We are still annoyed that they can't get their heads round modern developments in ground-source heat-pumps and advise us. In fact very few people can, except those selling them. Anyway, the garage looks fab but after Ian's remark that it looks like a chapel of rest, we can't get that out of our heads!

Richard and Ryan are busy fitting out the kitchen. This photo doesn't do justice to the cabinets which are solid ash - not melamine as they look here! The carved detail on the front doesn't show either. (Sack the photographer!) I am thrilled at the amount of cupboards and drawers. Although the room is consderably smaller than our current one, there is far more storage space.

Peter finally got the pond-liner. By the time we arrived on site, he'd laid it, emptied a huge bowser of water he'd got from a farmer into it and was in the process of topping it up with a hose. In the meantime, he set off to Ripon to collect a new part for his lawn-mower. It still wasn't anywhere near full by the time he got back. He's full of ideas of what to plant where in the garden and I realise I will have to take a back seat. Much as I'm itching to do it myself, he knows what will grow and what won't so I'm having to be patient. There's little point arguing with him when he's made a decision because even if you telling him not to do something, he will find a reason to do it and then explain after the fact! I shall ask Bill and Jill how they deal with this. He's too good to lose so I expect it's a case of biting one's lip.

The last photo shows the view from the garage showing the re-planted cedar, which is still hanging on in there. For some reason Peter wants to remove the 3 bushes to its right - between it and the pond - and replace them with something similar. Why, I'm not sure but he has his reasons and to ask would be to listen to half an hour's explanation. Peter knows a lot but is not the most coherent speaker. The ground has been rotavated and weeds sprayed. He's not an organic gardener, alas, but I'm working on that. Once the wilderness is tamed, I shall try and insist on it but we shall see. The new hawthorn hedge he's planted on the field side is growing well and I've asked him to introduce a few other plants to 'get it going' as a mixed country hedge.
And if all this sounds too positive, then there's still the problem of the staircase which is holding things up. Flaxton Forge aren't even bothering to chase the foundry that's casting the balusters.

Anthony (electrician) is coming next wek to first-fix the garage and do the final chapel fix. The plumber will be back too to fit sanitary ware. Steve will start tiling the bathrooms. So far, so good. But when we'll have a staircase is anyone's guess.

Two Steps Forward and One Step Back

2008-07-11T14:25:00.001+01:00

I wasn't naive enough to think that progress would be steady and sure but I don't think we were prepared for the amount of problems that are beginning to emerge as we near the end of the project. That's not to say that progress isn't being made. It is. As can be seen the garage continues to take shape and we're very pleased with it. The conservatory people have finally corrected their big mis-measuring fiasco and are now back and everything seems to fit. But it's all a lot slower than we'd thought. What the photo doesn't show is that there's no glass yet so it's still open to the elements and until that happens the underfloor heating can't go in. And until that goes in, we can't lay the stone flags. The small digger Ian needs to finish levelling off the garden, patio and driveway is out of order so he's having to wait for it to be fixed.

But all these niggles pale into insignificance in comparison with the continuing saga of the staircase. More mismeasuring has been discovered, this time on the architects' original plans (which is frankly unnaceptable and we expect them to pay the extra costs) which means that the first short flight of stairs before it turns onto a quarter landing needs to be widened otherwise the newel post on the turn would be smack bang in front of a window with nowhere to fix it. Never mind that it would look ridiculous. That has now been sorted out but Norton Joinery who are making the staircase in their workshop can't continue until they have a sample of the ironwork balusters so they can accurately drill the holes required for their fitting. We hadn't appreciated that Flaxton Forge who were chosen to supply them don't actually make them. They normally use a foundry in London but when they finally placed the order, found the London foundry had doubled their price since they first quoted over a year ago. As this was unacceptable to us, they had to find another foundry, this one in Hull but they can't supply the necessary sample for another three weeks. Without this, work can't proceed on the staircase and without it, it's making life difficult for those sub-contractors who need to get materials up to the first floor. (It's not much fun getting a cast-iron bath up a ladder.) Why Flaxton Forge left it so long before instructing the foundry is beyond us. If they'd started a couple of months ago there would have been no delay and maybe the London forge's prices would not have been raised.

Our latest visit was the longest in a long while because we arrived at 9.30am and left at 6pm. The early start was so we could meet Peter Silk on site to measure the windows and discuss fabric with us in situ. That didn't quite go according to plan when we realised that the fabric we had all agreed on was not right with the stained glass. (not to mention the newel post problem which also affected the way the curtain would hang. Back to the drawing-board until the rest of the glass is fitted -next week?) and then we can get a better idea of a colour match. However, we did decide on the bedroom curtain fabric.

It was also frustrating to see boarded-up windows where windows already fitted are having to be removed one by one and taken back to the workshop to have the correct glass fitted. Peter still hasn't got the pond liner he'd oredered much to his annoyance so there's no progress there. The oil tank has arrived and looks larger than we'd imagined - and uglier but Peter says he can grow creeper over it to disguise its green plastic industrial look. On the plus side the door frames have arrived and also the back door which looks fab. The kitchen people also start work on site next week. They are also fitting all the cupboards, my new desk and all the study cupboards and my pride and joy - the fitted floor-to-ceiling bookcase in the breakfast kitchen area.

Still, mustn't grumble. It was a beautiful day and Rosedale Abbey was a picture. The roses are all out behiond the cottage walls and the collective scent was breathtaking. (Note to self. Get plenty of fragrant cottage garden shrub-roses.) Ian is still confident that we'll be in by the end of September but when things go wrong and progress is so slow it's hard to imagine. I am finding it so very difficult to be patient. I want to be there NOW!

Continuing Progress

2008-07-06T15:51:00.001+01:00

Work continues slowly but steadily. Brothers Mick and Steve are carrying on with the garage, the joiners have almost finished laying the oak flooring downstairs whilst Brian and Colin build the low wall which will mark the boundary of the terrace and the lawn.

That was Wednesday 2nd July. By the Friday we'd heard that Norton Joinery who began removing the wromng glass from the window frames and replacing them had not done a good enough job, according to Ian. Work has now stopped on that until Jon and I get to see what the problem is. All it takes is for one person not to follow clear instructions and there are days if not weeks of delays and frustrations.

Peter told as that because the ground levels need to rise in one corner of the garden, the small Rowan tree we love is going to have to go. Apparently if you bank earth up around the trunk of a tree above ground level, it kills it. We have asked him to plant a new one when the time comes. I hate having to remove trees but the good news is that the cedar tree that Peter moved earlier in the year seems to be coping with the trauma and the roots are absorbing water from the ground as shown by the new growth. The continued wet spring and summer has helped but only time will tell. It isn't out of the woods yet.

Floored!

2008-06-26T16:33:00.001+01:00

As these photos show, the wood flooring is now fitted everywhere upstairs. It looks great and we are very pleased. The first is of Andrew and me admiring it in the main bathroom with Ian looking on. (Note absence of shoes - joiners' orders!) The second picture shows Andrew either going up or down the ladder (can't remember which) with Robin the decorator looking up.

In fact, on first appearance, things seem to be looking up in general as the floor is now being laid downstairs and should be almost finished by the time we visit next. A lot of other major work is about to start (Then again, isn't it always?) - kitchen and other cupboard fitting, the rest of the stained glass windows, bathroom fitments, installing the re-measured conservatory roof for starters. Ian's men are still sorting out the drains and downpipes and will soon get on putting up the garage roof-timbers. But, wouldn't you know it? The joiners are the second lot of people to measure wrongly, having miscalculated the angle of the roof. Actually they're the third. The architects didn't include the various flooring layers upstairs when they calculated wall-height. This admittedly only a few centimetres out has a big knock-on effect for the shower in our en suite. If we are to keep the cabinet walls at the same height then the shower tray already supplied will be too wide. The solution is either to reduce the height of the cabinet walls or reduce the width of the floor tray. We've decided on the latter so that will be another delay. We also really need the staircase fitted now and I don't think the company involved have started work on it yet. Nor has the iron-work balustrading been made yet, let alone delivered. It's bad enough climbing up and down the ladder to see upstairs but even less fun for installing the baths, loos and basins, not to mention the timber for the upstairs cupboards and all the internal doors. As regards the ironwork we've just heard the forge want to charge us a lot more than originally agreed. This is because they have decided each piece needed to be bigger thus requiring more work in the casting of the mould and more work equals more cost. I hope this will not cause too many headaches and/or delay in progress. I suspect it will. Did I say things were looking up?

Rain and drains

2008-06-19T16:30:00.001+01:00

Yesterday was a blustery day of heavy showers and fleeting sunshine which meant the wellies came in handy again. The garden continues to suffer as the installation of drains has begun. This one pictured is the foul water drain. Once that's filled in, it will be the turn of the surface water drains. Also, Peter has concreted round the pond - which looks massive. Oh and the re-planted cedar tree is still alive.

The most exciting development is that the joiners have started work laying the oak flooring. This photo is of what will be our bedroom which also shows the rooflight and back wall windows. Progress is slow although they hope to finish the first floor by the time we visit next week. The underfloor heating people should have returned last Monday to work downstairs but have been delayed.

Rosedale Abbey was pretty busy, despite the rain. The carparks were full and a coach had just arrived and for the first time ever I had to queue in the public loo! Fortunately, the coach tourists usually only stay for a wander around the village which takes all of fifteen minutes, half an hour if it includes cuppa and a bun, so they're soon on to pastures new. The whole village is usually quiet again by five o'clock.

Quite a few changes

2008-06-14T13:09:00.001+01:00

The builders' caravan - or as Ian refers to it, the Conference Facility - has been moved so that complicated levels in the garden can be sorted out. Otherwise we will have a sloping terrace, a wonky drive and the drainage will be all over the place. Peter has also begun on the pond. All the scaffolding has come down (except at the back which awaits the fledging of the blue-tits and jackdaws.) The underfloor heating pipes have been fitted upstairs as well as the horrendously complicated controls that will, thankfully, be hidden in a cupboard. The horrid window frames of the front flour windows have been rerplaced by the new oak ones and await Alan's stained glass. We had originally wanted the stained glass to act as a screen but having realised what a great view we can now see through what used to be frosted glass we have asked him to make it clearer around the edges. We're going up to his workshop again next week to discuss this.

Incompetence par excellence

2008-06-09T11:37:00.001+01:00

I have a confession. I am somewhat arithmetically challenged. I'm not proud of it but it's a fact. I always hated those school problems where you had to measure the area of a given chunk of land or wall or whatever and then remove corners and things. Which is why I wisely didn't choose a career in surveying or building but stuck to English Literature and writing where you can make up your answers as you go along as long as you argue them convincingly and still get good marks and a big tick if you're lucky.

So . . . you would think, wouldn't you, that a company that specialisies in constructing bespoke conservatories to the highest standards would get their sums right. Right?

Wrong.

Having been provide at great expense (ours, of course) a detailed and accurate plan from the architects and having vsited the site on, not one, but two separate occasions to take measurements, you would think that the man with the tape measure would, prior to calculating the length of the roof would have measured the height of the proposed conservatory from the concrete floor level and not the top of the stone wall. (I think it may have something to do with angles and areas and maybe even trigonometry, but don't quote me.) But no. Although the walls that were measured correctly are now in place, there were red faces all round when they came to putting the roof on. To comply with the planning people, we have to have a straightforward sloping roof. This is attached the conservatory wall just below the gutters on the chapel itself down to the horizontal wooden bar above the conservatory windows. Only they didn't. The roof piece wasn't long enough because of the wrong height measurement.

Even I wouldn't have made that mistake. At least, not if I'd paid attention in Mr Moody's lessons.

As a result the conservatory installers have packed up and gone back to their workshop to make a new roof and will not return for another two weeks. We can only pray they measured it correctly this time.

Maybe I should have been a builder after all. It certainly pays better than writing.

Major progress (and problems)

2008-06-09T11:10:00.002+01:00

A lot has been happening recently, not all of it positive. The first hitch was entirely self-inflicted. As reported below we chose Dorset Cream as our default paint shade with which Robin set to with his trusty roller and applied two coats to the high ceiling - because once the internal scaffolding came down and the floor and staircase installed he wouldn't be able to reach it. We then changed our minds. Or rather, Peter Silk (soft-furnishings man) told us it would be far too yellow once applied everywhere and would clash with everything else and restrict our choices of curtains, upholstery and even our pictures and lamps etc. He suggested Farrow & Ball off-white, which is in fact a sort of soft grey. We agreed, although we still didn't cave in to his insistence on Farrow & Ball paint. Fortunately, Robin was able to rush back and redo it so now that's done and the scaffolding is down. Phew . . .

Another job that had to be done before the scaffolding was removed was the installation of the stained glass to the round window. (Why do I always think 'Play School' when I write that?) And doesn't it look great? (As does the newly cleaned, repointed and sealed wall.) The photo doesn't begin to do justice to the details in the glass and we have yet to see it when the midday sun shines through it and casts kaleidoscopic colours on the walls and floors below. Still we're both thrilled to bits and can't wait for the full glory to be revealed when the four front windows and the semi-circular piece above the door is completed.

The next set-back was the windows. We had specifically ordered Pilkington's self-cleaning glass on the outside of the double-glazed units and found that not only was the glass NOT Pilkington's but it wasn't self-cleaning either. Apparently the company whose job it is to order the glass and fit to the frames didn't read the specification. Duh! As a compromise we are sticking with their choice of glass manufacturer (Saint Gobain) but are insisting they take out all the outer glass and install the self-cleaning variety. This means a two week delay but at least the expense will be theirs. (Although no doubt we'll end up paying for the time it's taken our surveyor to sort out the mess.)

Meanwhile, Ian and his team are doing us proud. Their attention to detail as they remove the grotty old pointing and repoint and clean the stonework has to be seen to be believed. But even they have been held up, not by human incompetence, but by the joys of spring. There's a jackdaw's nest in the chimney so they can't repoint that yet and blue-tits are nesting in a crack in the back wall. This needs filling up but will have to wait until the very chirrupy babies are fledged and gone. (Ian advises that we put a nest box or two on the pine tree for the future as blue tits like to nest in the same place.)

The new oak windows look magnificent as does the work the joiners are doing to line the rooflights.

The sun is shining, the earth is drying and Peter has at last been able to dig out the new pond. Once that's done he can line it and get cracking with landscaping.

The works are providing an extra attraction to the visitors who descend on the village now the weather has turned. There isn't a car that doesn't slow down to gawp and nobody walks past without stopping to point and remark favourably. And everyone in the village seems to be pleaed we are to be permanent residents and not weekenders or holiday cottage owners.

Ceiling, Walls and Windows

2008-05-22T12:30:00.001+01:00

These photos fail to capture the excitement Jon and I felt as we made our usual Wednesday visit. We had already felt a buzz having visited Peter Silk Interiors in Helmsley on the way. We knew little about the shop except that we needed someone local to help us choose and also make curtains and that it looked intriguing (a single story cottage at the west end of the town) and a couple of people had said they were 'good, but pricey.' We decided we had nothing to lose by popping in and getting the feel for the place and whether they would approach our project with enthusiasm. They did and we staggered out an hour and half later, having realised we were yet again at the bottom of a steep learning curve. Never mind the huge range of fabrics, what about curtain poles? Width? Weight? Brackets? How many? How far from the wall. How big do you want the finials? If wrought iron, would you prefer them to look distressed? Rings, tabs or eyelets? And so on . . .

When we got to the chapel after a hasty and late lunch, we found that Robin (decorator) had just about completed painting the ceiling (Dorset Cream, a Farrow & Ball colour but a cheaper and Robin says better, brand. He has also stained the roof trusses, beams and purlins at the front of the building which he won't be able to reach once the scaffolding comes down which must before the underfloor heating and the oak floor go in. He'd also thoroughly cleaned and sealed the stone work on the top half of the inside front elevation. (Shown above with the round window with its new frame in place. Alan will fit the new stained glass next week - at last - and then the glass to cover that can be fixed in place.

The new windows have all been delivered and are stacked awaiting installation, which can't be done until all the external and internal scaffolding is down. They look and feel beautiful - real craftsmanship and attention to detail. And the sashes glide so smoothly. I can't wait to see them in place.

The plasterwork on the internal walls is almost all done now. Ian and his team expect to have finished the roof by the end of the week. Their next job is to complete the cleaning out and re-pointing of all the external stonework and fit the gutters and downpipes which arrived when we were there.

Bridie, whom we haven't seen for months, came to measure the levels which are currently all over the place. Meanwhile the ground which was until quite recently an ocean of mud is now baked hard. But at least the digger and earth shifter isn't in any danger of getting stuck. But none of that can happen until Brian returns from his three-week holiday in the sun.

The Saga of the Giant Hogweed that never was

2008-05-15T10:57:00.002+01:00

We paid a flying visit to the chapel last Saturday and whilst mooching about the desolation that is the garden found this plant lurking in the ditch. Very odd. Being blessed with a all-too vivid imagination and not a lot of gardening knowledge I wondered whether it could be a Giant Hogweed, scourge of the countryside and requiring careful management to eradicate. Visions of triffid-like beasts marching downstream, filling the whole of Rosedale coloured my dreams. Mind you, in more sanguine moments, I did rather wonder how it had got there and grown so quickly since our previous visit - but there it was. We couldn't ask Peter because he was away for a few days at the Malvern Spring Flower Show.

When he returned he quickly reassured us. It is in fact a Gunnera. One of its nicknames is Giant Rhubarb so you can see why I might have been mistaken. He was given the cutting by another of his customers. A Google search revealed that this grows to be a fine plant that looks stunning growing by water. I was a bit surprised that he'd put it in the ditch rather than in the ground by it but that turns out to be a temporary measure to keep it alive until he has chosen its final position. Silly me - again.

Panic over and our very first new plant to enjoy, that is, not counting the cedar tree he moved a month or so ago. We still don't know whether it will survive but I thought it looked pretty healthy yesterday. I'm sure I saw some fresh green shoots. But then, what do I know?

Giant Hogweed indeed.

Meanwhile, back inside . . .

2008-05-15T10:43:00.000+01:00

Plasterers are plastering and decoraters are cleaning and painting. Although decorating is usually the last job to do in any building project, the ceiling (which includes the trusses and purlins up there) and which is very high up needs to be done now before the interior scaffolding comes down. (The rest will be done later.) They decorators will also seal the walls that have been left as bare stone.

No - I haven't been decapitated. I'm standing on a lower level of the scaffolding.

The lower photo shows the recently plastered archway into the kitchen, the back windows (as yet without their frames) and the doorway into the downstairs cloakroom and utility room. (and Steve disappearing left.)

Re-roofing cont . . .

2008-05-15T10:28:00.001+01:00

All pretty much self-explanatory. The escape roof-lights for the ensuite bathroom and the spare bedroom have arrived and will be in place by the time we next visit.

Let There Be Rooflights!

2008-05-01T11:32:00.000+01:00

Yesterday, April 30th, was probably the most exciting day for us since work first started on demolishing the old interior. We couldn't stop grinning. Okay. I know. Not only do they look fantastic both from the outside and in, the amount of daylight they let into the chapel's erstwhile dark interior has to be seen to be believed. And the views . . . I could go on. Back to practicalities; the roof insulation consists of layers of foil and padding and blue plastic which not only shows up brilliantly from way on top of the Chimney Bank - cue loads of May Bank Holiday photos taken by tourists wondering why some blinking idiots want a blue roof - but reminds me of a Christmas turkey being prepared for the oven. The reason, of course, is not just to keep the damp out and warmth in but also to keep the heat out on hot, sunny days, especially in the gallery study, bedrooms and bathrooms which are only inches away from black slate.

You can see the slates that have been removed neatly stacked on the scaffolding walkways. Next week they will all be going back up. Ian reckons that he won't need to buy in any extra because the space taken up for the new lights will more than make up for the small few that were damaged. If more are needed he will use reclaimed slates.

Apart from the roofworkers outside, the place was heaving with men inside -Maurice (Elvis impersonater extraordinaire) and his son, the plumbers, Anthony and Malc, the electricians, plus Carl and his gang, the joiners. The plasterers will return shortly to finish their work once all the pipes and cables have been installed.

Apparently, most of the new windows have been made by Lloyd Webster and his team in their workshop in Malton. Steve (surveyor) has seen them and said they look great. We have made a decision on the finishing oil for the internal and outdoor woodwork. We also had a mini conference to make our final choice of paint colour. The decorator needs to know because he has to paint the ultra-high ceiling before the internal scaffolding comes down. In the end Jon was outvoted - he wanted a dirty stone colour - but with Ian's backing we went for my choice - 'Dorset Cream', a Farrow and Ball colour. I was suspicious when the architects went for this make because it has always seemed to me from reading piles of magazines that there's a certain snob-value to the name (like Aga). But we were told it was the best paint going so we agreed. The decorator however believes that not only can Dulux match the colour but their paint applies more smoothly and is, naturally, much cheaper. I'm happy with that. We can always pretend. But who would want to? I'm with the shaggy dog.

So what's next? The Rooflight Company have still to supply two escape rooflights (building regulations) which will go in the bathrooms. The slates are to go back on, the windows and doors are to be fitted as well as the staircase. Also both the interior and exterior stonework needs to be repointed and treated. And then there are Alan's gorgeous stained glass panes.

It's all looking good. And persistant heavy showers and a cool easterly wind failed to depress us. As Ian said with a grin as we watched work going on in a heavy downpour, 'Fortunes favours the brave.' But it would be good if the rain could give it a rest for even a short while so that the ground can dry out. Then again, the soggy conditions are good for the replanted cedar to establish itself in its new home. Every cloud and all that . . .

Evening Sunshine

2008-04-25T11:16:00.000+01:00

Sometimes one can lose the bigger picture so here's a timely reminder on the way home of why we're doing this.

Up on the Roof (2)

2008-04-25T11:12:00.001+01:00

Brian takes a break while Ian (in cap) and Steve, surveyor (in high-vis jacket) inspect work-in-progress.

Up on the Roof

2008-04-25T11:06:00.000+01:00

Jon took this photo from the first level of scaffolding. Whilst he was scrambling around, I stayed firmly on the ground as I am not good climbing ladders. (I'm the little black figure at the back of the garage.) Work is now in progress cleaning up and resetting the coping stones on the roof before the re-roofing proper begins (fingers crossed) next week. Meanwhile the plasterers are plastering inside and Anthony and Malc, the electricians, are putting all the cables in place. Spaghetti Junction can't compete.

The cloud lifts above Sandsend beach

2008-04-24T19:18:00.000+01:00

Alan Davis

2008-04-24T19:09:00.003+01:00

No, not Alan Davies, star of qi and Jonathan Creek, but a highly-talented artist we stumbled across when searching for someone to create extra stained glass for the four small front windows of the chapel to match the round window above. We liked Alan the moment we met him and he persuaded us to replace the window that was already there (apparently it was very fragile and likely to shatter at any moment, as well as poorly made) so that the five windows would create a whole. We left him to come up with a design which he did and we loved and having given him the job, we have more or less left him to get on with it.

Last week when we made our weekly visit to the chapel we took a longish detour to Alan's studio in the village of Lythe - just up the coast from Whitby and Sandsend. And there, on his work bench was part of our large window. Stunning! We were so excited. Not only does he use different textures and colours of glass he also paints them and uses acid and tools to create a kaleidescope of texture so that the finished work looks different in changing light conditions. The overall effect is a reprsetation of the changing moods of the moors. We are so thrilled and ever so slightly smug that we (all right then, me) found him. If the link works, it's worth taking a look at his website: http://www.alandavisglass.co.uk/

It had been raining hard when we left home; dry but murky when we drove along the coast which made for some moody seascapes - picture above - but by the time we arrived in Rosedale the sky lightened until it was soon a glorious spring afternoon. The may was out, other buds were bursting, the birds were trilling and our spirits lifted. It's days like those that make us remember why we want to live in Rosedale Abbey.

. . . are the only developments this week

2008-03-27T19:55:00.001Z

although there's plenty afoot on paper. The roof work has been postponed another week in view of the cold and wet weather that continues to dog us although the plumbers and electrician are both still'booked' for next month. I shall glad when I can walk about the site without sinking into mud or shivering and will be able to see some real progress inside. That's not to say work isn't being done but it's the boring yet essential stuff like drains and insulation which, despite valiant attempts I find difficult to get excited about. Oh and Peter only gives the replanted cedar a 30% chance of survival.

. . . and a tree on the move . . .

2008-03-27T19:53:00.000Z

One cold and wet garage rising . . .

2008-03-27T19:50:00.000Z

More digging. More mud. Fewer daffodils.

2008-03-20T18:58:00.001Z

Having discovered that the water supply was not up to scratch, we're having to replace the old narrow copper pipe from the mains with something wider. This, of course, meant a lot of digging and more mud - this time in the road. And more daffodils slaughtered in the process. (See a plucky survivor to the far left of the picture.)Still, there are plenty more along the verge further up the lane. Must take a photo before they've faded, buried in snow, frostbitten, blown over in a gale or eaten by sheep. It's tough in the country.

Mud, Mud, Glorious Mud.

2008-03-20T18:50:00.000Z

Not a lot has been happening inside the chapel for the past few weeks. This is because nothing further can realistically be done until it has been re-roofed. And it can't be re-roofed for another two weeks because that's when (we pray) the rooflights arrived from The Rooflight Company - the ordinary rooflights, that it. We have two escape rooflights, a buildings regulation requirement, on order but as they are more complicated in structure they won't be ready until even later. Once the roof is done, then the main internal work can start. So somebody up there, please, please can we have some spring weather? A bit of sunshine even? Temperatures above freezing?

In the meantime a lot is going on outside. The garage foundations are in place as is the concrete base for the new conservatory. The old pond which was too near the road and in the full glare of the sun in summer has been filled in and the new one pegged out. What with this and diggers/dumper trucks trundling around like metal dinosaurs, not to mention a covering of snow last Wednesday morning which had melted to mush by midday and the garden is a now sea of sticky clayey mud. Stand too long in one place and you find yourself slowly sinking. I'm going to slip and end up face down in it one day, I know I will.

But there are some signs of progress. Peter has weeded around and fed the new hedge and shoots are already appearing. Now it is fenced off from the lane, any passing sheep will not be able to feast on it as they did last year and put back its growth a whole year. He is about to start landscaping the pond. He also tells us that what we thought was a type of cypress tree is in fact a cedar that has been successively chopped back every year to prevent it from spreading because a previous owner had (not sure why) planted it too near the chapel. We have decided to move it further up the garden and leave it alone to spread and grow. This will of course create even more mud.

I'm trying to imagine what it will be like when all the work is done. It's hard.

The Great Chapel Dumper Truck Disaster

2008-03-10T15:08:00.000Z

Things were certainly humming at out last visit. A meeting with a heating enginerr helped dot the Is and cross the Ts on aspects of the underfloor heating in particular and the water supply in general. This revealed, rather worryingly, that whilst the rest of the village has high water pressure, that to the chapel is decidedly feeble. Without remedial action we'll be standing under a feeble dribble instead of a brabnd-new spanking powerful shower. So it was decided to get Yorkshire Water in to find out why and remedy things. The probable cause is either a narrow supply pipe or the fact that the Milburn Arms next door is taking all our water before it reaches us. Damn. Yet another fundamental problem that needs to be sorted. And I thought we'd passed that stage long ago.

Work began on digging out the foundations for the new garage. Ian had promised us a silver spade to cut the first sod but mindful that the first sod we came across was likely to be Colin who had somehow steered the dumper truck into a heap of soggy soil where it stuck fast, work began when we were otherwise occupied.

What can we tick off the list of work-to-be-done? Anything? Oh yes. The ditch is now fully-lined in stone from the top to the bottom of the garden. Peter is now planting rhododendrons and azaleas along the terraces he's created in the very top of the garden. All the partition walls are in place inside the chapel and the new rooflights are being manufactured for us. Also in progress are the window and door frames, doors and Alan has begun making his stained glass for the front windows. The electrician is on-hand to start all the wiring work at the end of the month. So a lot is happening but not that you'd notice so that even something as commonplace as a dumper truck getting stuck in a heap of mud, everyone gathers to watch.

The horrid old garage door is in the skip . . .

2008-02-21T19:41:00.001Z

And the new back door is taking shape. Here Mick and Brian are seen once again rehearsing their synchronised moves as they slowly but surely fill in the gap. How they have managed to keep working through this past week of sub-zero temperatures defeats my imagination but work they have - and Simon and Ian and the team of joiners who we found upstairs fixing the stud walls to divide the space into bedrooms and bathrooms. The new oak lintels are now in place in the four small front windows and we hear that the new window frames are being made. However, the major advance is that the ground floor surface is now in place so that everything is suddenly back in proportion and we can at last begin to get a real feel for how the rooms will look when they're finished. Next week Ian and his team will begin building the new detatched garage and take over from Peter lining the ditch which will run behind it with stone. The electrician begins work at the end of March and in April the roof will be revamped and insulated. Meanwhile the garden, although still a disaster area, continues to take shape. Peter hopes to start digging out the new pond soon. And yet, although we know things are moving gradually, the frost-rimed trees throughout the dale seemed to be telling us to stand still and wait. For everything there is a season. And somehow we felt we'd been rewarded as by the time we turned to go home, the frost had slipped from the trees, a robin was hopping about the hawthorn trees and the temperature began slowly but steadily to rise. Maybe spring is on its way after all.

A Cold Day in Rosedale

2008-02-21T19:14:00.002Z

Heather Burning

2008-02-14T19:20:00.000Z

It was a glorious day yesterday, more like April than February. Even up on Bank Top where I took this photo, the air was balmy and benign and the grouse were chuckling like crazy enjoying the silencing of the guns for the next 6 months. (Check out the RSPB website if you want to hear them. They seem let out a stream of chuckles and then finish with 'hello, hello, hello.') I love the way they run about on their fluffy white legs and feet as if they're wearing ski-boots. Meanwhile, the management of the moors that enables red grouse to breed and ultimately be shot continues. Because of the anticyclonic weather, the smoke from the burning heather was slowly drifting down and filling Rosedale. (it's burned to encourage the growth of soft green shoots for young grouse to eat.)

If you peer very closely you can just see the chapel and the nearby cottages emerging from behind the clump of trees in the left foreground

Once down in the valley, the smoke did not have that unpleasant throat-scraping smell of garden bonfires or even burning timber - which were suffered when visiting British Columbia several years ago near to where forest fires were blazing out of control. Here it was sweetly aromatic.

It was also warm enough to wander about the garden and gaze on the fat clumps of daffodils that had emerged since last week. Peter was planting new hawthorn stakes to thicken the back hedge and my fingers were itching to design my cottage garden borders but planting will have to wait until next spring.

After the blizzard

2008-02-12T11:16:00.000Z

This and the previous photo were taken by Bill, our neighbour, the day after the snow of February 1st. It blizzarded all afternoon and at about 4.30pm the power went out. We were due to return to Harrogate the following morning but the thought of spending any time in a holiday cottage with one candle, no heating, no light, no hot food, not even a kettle did not appeal so we packed up. It's just as well we did because we later learned that the power was not restored until about 7pm the following day. What was even more amazing that having driven through thick snow and darkness for several miles, lights were blazing with hardly a trace of snow in Kirbymoorsideand none whatsoever once we got down Sutton Bank. We felt as bad as rats leaving the sinking ship but we were ill-equipped in Dale Cottage. When we're permanent Rosedale residents, we'll have a generator, a camping gas stove, plenty of blankets and will be able to stick it out like everyone else! Having said that, we were told that there hadn't been such a long outage in several years. And even the snow didn't last long. By the time Bill took the sunset photo the following day, the snow had gone except in pockets on high ground where it still remained the following week despite the spring-like sunshine.

Winter Sunset

2008-02-12T11:02:00.000Z

Synchronised Stonework

2008-02-10T18:11:00.000Z

Last Thursday, Jon snapped Mick and Brian working in perfect harmony cleaning the stone around the top of the front door - a moment of synchronisation well spotted. The darker patch of wall shows where the cleaning and repointing has been done. It's a laborious, slow but necessary process as we want as much original stonework to show as possible. Any stone that is too crumbly or poor has to be replaced along the way. The mortar will take some time to dry to its chosen colour but with any luck this present spell of fine weather - wonderful after last week's blizzards - will continue. We are all doing our best to make sure the gods give us a good few weeks of dry weather because the next major work is a complete re-roofing, the raising of the purlins to make space for new rooflights. And it can't be done in persistent rain (or heaven forbid, snow). When all the walls have been cleaned up and repointed, they will be coated with some kind of fixative so dust won't constantly be trickling down over everything. The air is thick with it now and I worry that the men aren't wearing masks. (Apparently, one of my great-grandfathers was a stonemason and died of silicosis.)

Floorboards are now in place upstairs and are being put in place downstairs. At present, the downstairs floor level is so low we can't see out of the windows and all rooms seem to tall and narrow creating an atmosphere I find overwhelming and intimidating. By our next week's visit, we should have a better feel for the final look. I wish there was a better way to get usptairs than a precipitous ladder. I have never been good with any sort of ladder, even if safely fixed in position but seem lately to have turned into a complete wimp, developing an irrational phobia. I have only done it once and hope never to have to again. Everything seemed so high up - again probably because the floor level downstairs is so low and I began to wobble.

January 2008. Changes to the back wall.

2008-01-21T12:07:00.000Z

The back wall was without a doubt the worst aspect of the original conversion. Nasty up-an-over garage door, poky, flimsy little modern windows and a hideous wooden contraption around the back door (which has already gone, thankfully.) At last, major change is underway. Progress is slow because none of the windows we want are in the same place as the old and all need to resemble the original windows which all, we've discovered, have brick arches. Mick is in charge of this and has three new windows to create upstairs, which is where we are now. I can't wait for the ground floor to change.

By our visit next week, the floor joists and plywood under-flooring should have been laid. Meanwhile the rain continues to pour and por and pour. It had better stop in the next few weeks because the roof must be replaced, purlins lowered and new rooflights fitted before any more interior work can start.

Going to the Chapel and we're going to get ma-a-ar-ried

2008-01-21T11:54:00.000Z

Bill, one of our team of builders, used to live in the village and attended weekly services the chapel when he was a boy. On our behalf, he has contacted four sisters, all of whom he knew married in the chapel in the late fiftes and early sixties. This is one of the weddings and clearly shows one of the door boot-scrapers (on the right of the picture between the chief bridesmaid and father of the bride.) The door looks splendid - the current one is quite dreadful - and looks pretty similar to the one we intend to put in. Apparently, the sisters were the only people known to have married there and had to obtain special licences. It feels rather special and a privilege to be planning to live where such important events in the lives of others took place.

December 2007: internal walls go up.

2007-12-20T18:14:00.000Z

This is the new main internal wall, showing the downstairs archway (there will be no actual door) leading to the dining area and kitchen and other downstairs rooms. The opening upstairs will lead to the two bedrooms and house bathroom. The stairs will begin more or less where you can see the platform on the bottom right. They will turn twice and end up on a gallery that will face you from this aspect and then turn to form a small study area overlooking the sitting room, which will be in the area from where the photo was taken. (I promise it will all become clear eventually.)

Although work officially stops at the end of this week for the Christmas and New Year holiday and won't resume until the first week in January, Ian and Mick will be coming in some days and begin to put in the floor joists.

Rosedale in Winter

2007-12-20T12:19:00.000Z

2007-12-20T12:18:00.000Z

2007-12-20T12:16:00.000Z

2007-12-20T12:15:00.000Z

Northern Rock

2007-12-20T12:11:00.000Z

Peter stands on the lump of rock we have bought to grace the very top end of the garden - as long as the North York Moors National Park planning department don't veto it. The idea is that it will draw the eye right up to the end of the garden and once there, as it will be on higher ground, it will be a great vantage point as well. Some of it will be underground so it will stand about 10 feet tall.

. . to build the first new wall

2007-12-06T12:25:00.000Z

I now know exactly what I want for Christmas. No, not Mick (driving) or Ian (directing operations) but one of those little dumper trucks.

. . . on its way . . .

2007-12-06T12:20:00.000Z

The first load of concrete . . .

2007-12-06T12:19:00.000Z

All stripped out and ready to start again

2007-12-06T12:16:00.000Z

. . . and after

2007-11-09T12:00:00.000Z

Before . . .

2007-11-09T11:58:00.000Z

Demolition continues . . .

2007-11-03T20:49:00.000Z

We now have a site office and a guard-dog

2007-11-03T20:45:00.000Z

Imagine . . .

2007-10-30T19:04:00.000Z

. . . a tinkling stream lined with local stone, bordered by azaleas and dwarf rhodedendrons. That's what this part of the garden will look like but this is the current view of the 'pointy-end' of the garden - we're facing east away from the village - but it doesn't do justice to the steepness of the land that climbs steadily up from the chapel so that when you reach the bit where Kate Winslet and Leonardo di Caprio are there waving at you, you get a wonderful view over the village rooftops towards Rosedale West. Before we started work this was a jungle of brambles and every time I ventured forth I ended up sprawling in the mud. Thank goodness that's a thing of the past.

The rows of green plants seen on the right are all the box plants that used to ring every flower and shrub border and looked continental and wrong for a Yorskire country garden. We asked Peter to move them out of the builders' way while work is going on. They will be transplanted in various places throughout the garden either as hedges or as individual plants. They're growing very well in their temporary nursery and will do us proud when the time comes to transplant them. Azalaeas and Rhodedendrons may not seem typically Yorkshire either but the previous owner had planted a large quantity and although some will have to go, we don't like killing plants for the sake of it.

No Going Back Now

2007-10-30T18:43:00.000Z

The real work finally began On Monday 22nd October. By the time we arrived on Wednesday afternoon, demolition was in full swing. Ian and his men are starting from the top and working down. As the picture shows, what were three bedrooms and a bathroom have evaporated into dust and broken plaster. It's all so exciting (well, to us anyway) and we can't wait to see what progress has been made in seven days when we visit tomorrow.

The garden, too, is undergoing great changes. Peter has already begun digging out, straightening and stone-lining the ditch. At present it resembles the surface of the moon but when it's done it will be fabulous. (It helps to keep optimisitic because judging by the expression on the faces of people gazing over the battered hedge they are clearly convinced we're oiks and vandals.)

Finally, Andrew visits the chapel

2007-09-27T09:25:00.000+01:00

Another Wednesday visit, this time having managed to catch up with Andrew's busy(!) social life to show him the full horrors of the chapel's interior before it is changed forever. The weather was very autumnal with a chill northerly wind screaming down the dale, cloud shadows like children summersaulting down the slopes and a heady misture of dazzling sunshine and sharp rain. Like us, Andrew is very much in love with the area and whilst we oldies mooched about discussing paint shades he took himself off on one of his favourite walks, up Heygate Lane as far as the Millennium Cross. (Note to blogger: must take photos of all the local crosses from ancient to modern.)

Ashmead's Kernel

2007-09-16T17:57:00.000+01:00

http://www.yorkshireorchards.co.uk/cgi/shop/shop.cgi?a=8&page=template&cart_id=80662-4327

Raised around 1700 in Gloucester by Dr Ashmead, parentage unknown. It is thought to be amongst the best of dessert apples grown, receiving an Award of Merit fron the RHS in 1969, and a First Class Certificate in 1981. The dictionary describes a kernel as a ''nut or a seed''. The medium sized fruits are round in shape, slightly flat, and frequently lop-sided. A rather unattractive yellow/pale brown rough skin conceals the wonders below; namely a firm and juicy flesh, fine in texture which is white with a hint of green and yellow, and pleasantly aromatic. An acidic apple when eaten from the tree, this mellows to become sweeter and juicy. Its' distinctive flavour which makes it as popular now as it was over 300 years ago.

Plum Picking and Other Pastoral Pleasures

2007-09-16T17:49:00.000+01:00

When last Wednesday dawned bright and warm and the realisation came suddenly as it always does at this time of the yearthat summer's lease has all but expired, we decided to visit the Old Chapel. The Victoria Plum tree was full of ripe fruit and we knew if we didn't pick them they would go to waste. The tree looks pretty ancient and, as can be seen from the photo, somewhat neglected. I can't wait to tidy it up. The harvest proved to be less abundant than last year's but I still picked a box-full and they taste as sweet as ever. I've made three large jars of plum chutney which are now squirrelled away in a dark cupboard. The rest I shall stew and put in the freezer in manageable quantities.

I also discovered an apple tree that I was not aware of last year. This was because Jon gave all the fruit away to a friend before I got there. He'd come over to take away all the spot lights that had been left in the upstairs art gallery by the previous owner and I was at the White Horse Hotel half-way up the Chimney Bank with my parents. By the time we'd ordered, eaten and procceded sedately down to the chapel, it was too late and the tree was bare.

This year I was determined to both pick and identify the apples - and I think I have. I never knew until I began to search just how many varieties of old English apples there are. How sad it is that people without their own trees or friends and families with trees have to make do with Granny Smiths and Golden Delicious. It's like only ever drinking cheap Spanish plonk without ever sampling the rich variety from California to Australia via Bulgaria, Chile, all points inbetween them to France, by way of Kent.

However, I shall have to save that for my next entry. When I tried to copy and paste the information I found I lost the previous incarnation of this post as well and couldn't get it back, however much I swore and stamped.

We took a picnic into the garden and sat on the old bench and munched happily in the sun while we gazed around at the world that would one day be our home, pinching ourselves and hardly daring to believe it would ever happen. Building work won't begin until December and other problems have sprung up like leaks in an old hose pipe. We've had to go back to the drawing board with the wood flooring as the type we'd chosen was supplied by a firm we no longer have any faith in - not crooks exactly but prone to supplying more wood than customers order and then charging them for it. We've also had to change other suppliers we'd decided on for various reasons too tedious to go into here.

One black cloud in an otherwise perfect sky was my visit to the new shop in the village. It used to be the bakery. It was always a bit faded and grubby and I never fcould bring myself to buy any of the bread, sandwiches and cakes on display. It closed last year and was replaced by Molly's, a delicatessen, greengrocers and cafe selling a selection of wholesome whole foods and exotic chutneys, jams, pickles etc plus home made cakes, biscuits, quiches, pies, soup, pate, salads and ice-cream. I'd never had a chance to take a close look before but did so when Jon went off for one of his jaunts I call hikes but he dismisses as mere strolls round the block.

I walked in. Although it was Wedneesday afternoon the other village cafe/shop had shut as usual at 11am, Even so, Molly's cafe was empty and there was only two other customers - a couple not sure of whether they were supposed to sit down in the cafe and wait for a waitress or order from the counter. I wandered about for a bit. Two assistants were stomping about the place doing heaven knows what but whatever it was clearly was not to their liking. Neither smiled or greeted me - which is highly unusual in Yorkshire in general and Rosedale Abbey in particular. I smiled and said hello but met blank faces. I weighed up the strwberry and rosewater jam against the lavender honey but eventually pluped for a pretty bottle of honey, mustard and Irish whiskey salad dressing. I also fancied the look of their home made fare in the chiller cabinet, especially the tomato and basil soup but didn't want to buy it until I'd found out whether it had been made with vegetable stock. I went to the counter. I waited and waited and waited but no-one came. After a few minutes, a rather harrassed looking young woman came up to the counter to cut some cake to take to the cafe where the couple had rather nervously sat down. She said she'd be with me in a moment and I said that was fine. As I continued to wait, I could see into the kitchen which somehow looked over-cluttered which always makes me wonder just how clean it it. Time passed. I told myself not to get annoyed as this was the country and I wasn't to bring my rushed city ways to bear upon a more leisurely way of life.

Eventually, said harrassed lady returned to serve me. 'I see you're very busy', said I, without any hint of sarcasm, more to show her that I sympathisewd with her heavy work load than anything else. 'Oh no,' she snapped back. 'We're very quiet today.' I was then tempted to ask her what service was like when they were busy or why they were quiet when the village was full of tourists and the other shop and cafe was closed, but decided to keep my opinions to myself. I then asked her whether the soup was made with vegetable stock. 'Oh no,' she snapped again. 'We make it PROPERLY.' I wasn't annoyed by her opinion that a vegetable soup is better with meat stock but by the lack of any courtesy in her tone. When I worked in Waterstone's I always agreed with customers who opined that we ought to be ashamed of ourselves for not stocking Barbara Cartland or we couldn't call ourselved a bookshop if we didn't sell diaries or toilet rolls. She could have showed that she regretted she was unable to sell me their lovely traditional country soup and that they might sell vegetarian-suitable food in the future if there was a demand. Was that too much to ask? I piad for my bottle of dressing and left with a heavy heart.

When I later told Jon the tale he said I shouldn't go ever go in again. But I will. First to see if said cross lady was the owner and/or if I'd caught her on a bad day. After all, the shop is only 200 yards or so from our doorstep and it doesn't do to fall out with neighbours until you've become a fixture in a village. Then you can be as rude as you like.

The Old Chapel as it was . . .

2007-09-15T21:44:00.000+01:00

The Good News is . . .

2007-08-04T13:40:00.000+01:00

. . . we've chosen our builder. In the end it wasn't difficult. We'd already narrowed the cut down to two firms and arranged meetings either side of lunch at the architects' offices. The first to be grilled was the boss of a medium sized building firm who shall remain nameless. I always try to be open-minded when meeting a new person; there was nothing wrong with him or his company but, for some reason, I didn't take to him. I'm sure his firm would have done a perfectly good job but this is the biggest project we've ever undertaken in our lives and we wanted our builder to 'get' this. He didn't. It was just another job - one of many - to him. Nor was he flexible about our access to the site while building work was underway. I fully understand Healthy and Safety regulations with which all builders must comply but we'd be the ones paying the bill and to imply that we couldn't have any access whatsoever over the weekends when work wasn't being done did nothing to improve our attitude towards him. It was only after he'd left that I was pleased to see that my misgivings were shared, not only by J but by Steve and Jon.

Somewhat downhearted but sustained by some hearty sandwiches we were ready to meet Builder no. 2. What a contrast! I had been sniffy when I was told that one of the builders would be a man who lived in the village and who'd done quite a bit of work in the area. I had thought - silly me - that he's be a bit of an odd-job man, likeable and competent but a little out of his depth. I couldn't have been more wrong. Ian Thompson showed himself to be intelligent, talented, urbane, practical and also totally flexible. And with a keen sense of humour. I can still see the rejected builder's face when J told him that being a rock-climber and mountaineer, no fence would keep him out anyway! In total contrast, Ian doesn't mind in the least how much we wander about the place - as long as we don the statutory hard hats.

So he's our man. The bad news is that he can't start work until the end of November. Then again, we've waited long enough so far. Another four months is hardly going to make that much difference. But it's still frustrating.

Sheep update. Peter is going to erect temporary sheep-proof fencing while the hedge grows large enough to feed a large flock of sheep without incurring terminal damage.

Progress Report

2007-07-20T18:50:00.001+01:00

So what's been happening? The four builders we have asked to tender have until Monday next week to come up with their price. So, it won't be too long before we finally decide which one will be OUR builder. In the meantime, the chapel itself remains as it was. However, it's all go with the garden as can be seen from the picture below. It all looks a little scary in its openness, although it must be said that most of the trees that have been slaughtered are either old or the dreaded leylandii - and yes, we have got planning permission. And we will replant hedges and trees where necessary and we will do it with an eye to the environment. I can't help thinking, though, that the secret garden I fell in love with has gone forever. But sense tells me that things have to get worse before they get better. I have to report, sadly, the new hawthorn plants that were planted along our boundary with the lane, which were beginning to grow, suffered a bit of a set back last week when a flock of over 250 sheep were herded down the lane. Apparently, newly sprouting hawthorn hedges are an ovine gourmet speciality. Now they tell us. We had been told that the hedge would be back to its former beauty in five years. Change that to six years, give or take another greedy flock or twenty. Who said living in the country was stress-free?