Owning our own patch of mud has been a shared dream for Woody and I. Being around horses has always afforded me that outdoor space that I have now become use to and sadly have taken for granted that I will always be in "the countryside". For Woody, growing up in Pembrokeshire ment happy days on farms and following hunts on foot, so we both have mud and fresh air in our souls.
Working with horses and owning my own animals meant owning my own patch of land was the financially sensible and long term solution, far safer and far less stressful than renting or being in livery. I had loved having my own rented yard and land in the past, but I was always on the look out.
Fast forward a few years. Big changes, marriage and a total move from where I grew up in Sussex to Lincolnshire, dragging the horse and dog along with us. We liked the area, the soil was well draining and sandy, the county vast and the people old fashioned where local hardware stores still thrived as halfords and homebase would not venture so far into the Wolds! We started looking for land and put in an offer on 12 acres of newly planted woodland with the hope of grazing and coppicing it....
Gills Wood Plantation, Lincolnshire
With a twist of fate the our offer was rejected just as we found out we would have to move, so without a fight and after only eight months of living in Lincolnshire, we packed up said goodbye to all our new friends and headed off to the South West to start all over again.
(Meanwhile some hard earnt company shares had been bubbling away, up and down they went, forever searching that £1+ price!)
* * * * *
Our
move to the South West started with the heartbreaking loss of Woodys
mum Shirley. A keen gardener we were thankful
to be able to spend the summer with her on the allotment before the
evil that is pancreatic cancer finally took her. A sad time followed
but it made both Woody and I more determined
to
find our own patch of green somewhere to continue working on the
land. Growing veg was one thing but we also wanted woodland to
coppice and for Woody to make furniture from and I wanted meadows for
horses, of course!
We firmly believe that things happen for a reason, however awful something good must come of bad and timings are often right or wrong for the same thing. Fate only gives you choices though...it is up to you to be bold, brave and sometimes a little crazy to take up these opportunities that come along.
* * * * *
The stars aligned one day. In fact about 10 days before a local land auction. Two lots were found. For the right money. In a fabulous location. My shares had peaked (although no where near the £1 a share we wanted!).
We viewed the lots on a warm and hazy June afternoon. They were part of a farm that was being divided to cover death duties. The meadow grasses were pink in bloom, the woodland offered shade, there were orchids, butterflies, birds......and rather a lot of gorse! We loved it all the same. There was a tranquility and peace, the 12 acres offered us everything we wanted with the added bonus of being at the highest point, over looking the river and town in the far distance. There was also a brick building and timber sheds but it all needed masses of work after being left for the last 10 years to go wild.
The next week and a half was a whirlwind of phone calls, meetings with solicitors, estate agents, huge cheques being sent out, googling every lead that might take us to a reason why not to buy it. My shares were transferred into holding accounts, we were ready. Then, the morning of the auction the long awaited legal pack came through answering many questions but also making us ask several new ones over access and rights that sent everything into a spin.
I can only explain what happened at the auction that evening as some kind of miracle, I am sure Shirley had a lot to do with it. Despite my brain having a meltdown and turning to mush Woody calmly put his hand up, just the once, at the second "going" to which no one bid any higher... the meadow, lot 2, was ours.
Unfortunately we were outbid on lot 3, the woodland, which was very disappointing but the acreage price paid was phenomenal and did not make any sense. I can say we paid the right money for our eight acres, we got a bargain.
A nail biting month ensued; sorting out access rights, paperwork, money and then the deads finally had our names on them. The adventure could finally begin!
We started work on the Friday we completed and signed the last contract. Woody hired the biggest brush cutter we could get in the car wedged in with saws, cutters and a kettle we left work early setting off for the land on a muggy afternoon in August. Arriving at the land and unlocking the main gates we drove down the long driveway and finally bumped over the the grassy threshold (feeling a bit like trespassers!) into the first field where we negotiated a few rocks and anthills and made our way through the sea of meadow grasses.
We unpacked the car and woody got straight on with clearing an area where we could set out tools, have a fire and put the kettle on to start our obsession with making a good "cupatea" on the land.
