A Patchwork House

When we bought this house we knew that it would take a strange combination of drive and patience to live in it.

Being seven months pregnant was actually a very appropriate start to the journey; navigating between what was physically possible and what was physically necessary with a new baby round the corner. But we turned it OK.

Six months on, things have improved and worsened. A few heavy thunderstorms revealed a holier thatch than we thought, and the physical possibilities have changed (from bumps to backs). We had a spell when 'biting', 'chewing' and 'too much' (you get the picture) drifted into our conversations, and as J lay flat on the floor not even being able to get up the stairs, the fact that we couldn't decide whether to sand them or strip them seemed a tad laughable (no-one was laughing).

But chatting to our newly instructed thatcher (double-take) the other day, he told us how he would tackle the damaged plaster left by the leaks. It wasn't a case of removing everything and re-doing, he thought, but patching and lime washing to fill the cracks - not to worry. Mulling this over I realised that we didn't have to wait for the paint, which was waiting for the plaster, which was waiting for the thatch and I picked up a brush and painted the kitchen, and it looks much better (not great, but better).

So we're now in the process of back-proofing our home, (no more lifting baby seats, marathon strimming or rugby tackling nearly 14 yr old sons, and maybe more leaving the out of reach pears to the birds and finding a sit-on mower [or a couple of sheep]) but still making a small difference where we can. Changing things here and there, going steady and enjoying the process. Ignoring the 'critical path' that you would normally follow on a house-build and doing a bit of patchwork. Sounds good to me.