I have a dream...One year in Somerset

As summer slides into autumn and the new season gilds the trees with orange it has, somehow, been one year since we thought we didn't stand a chance of getting our Dream Farm. How wrong we were and how many other things we have been wrong about in the last twelve months.

This time last year we were feeling pretty lacklustre about the whole sorry affair...the auction was due to start at 7pm on 27 September 2016 and the farm was Lot 1. We didn't hold out much hope in the face of the countless people we had heard about who were also interested and who had also raised money well in excess of the teeny tiny whip everyone up into a frenzy guide price. We were so convinced that we didn't stand a chance, despite the begging and borrowing, that I opted to stay at home whilst Big G went to play our hand and congratulate the lucky new owners with a grace usually reserved for actors losing out on a Best Actor award at the Oscars. And so it transpired that as I lay in the bath flicking through fashion magazines, torturing myself with images of skinny models whilst my body geared up for baby number two, Big G was in a bidding war with a consortium of festival folk; a war that ultimately we won, much to our shock and delight, on our very last bid.

So, here we are, one year on and about a million things have happened both to us as a family and to the farm. I cannot possibly remember them all and would bore you all to death if I could, so here is a somewhat odd and totally incomplete list of things that have occurred down on the farm:

• We had a baby.
• We survived a rat infestation.
• We made it to ten years together which given the previous point is a not inconsiderable miracle. There is still some debate over whose fault the open packet of lasagne sheets in the barn actually was. Needless to say it was not me.
• We got a cat and simultaneously eradicated our rat problem (we hope), although I would not recommend getting a kitten and a newborn at the same time unless you are ambivalent to the future of your nipples ladies.
• We had a friendly squatter who ended up care taking the land for us after we had roof tiles stolen an before we were able to move on site.
• We have learnt and continue to learn lots about the planning process, primarily that it is most akin to dating (if I remember dating accurately) complete with mysterious etiquette, politics, goodies and baddies and obscure rules that only become apparent after you have bulldozed your way through them with good intentions.
• Big G has mastered the art of the digger.
• Big G has dug a lot of paths. 
• Big G dug more paths.
• We dug a bore hole to supply our water.
• We have learnt what the tritylodont Oligokyphus is as our quarry walls have some fragments of fossilised tritylodonts.
• In the spring we learnt that grasses bloom and that our field is transformed into a riot of colour and texture when they do.
• We now know that the north facing barn that we though would be bathed in shade during the summer months is anything but and that what will one day be our garden is in fact bathed in sunlight from dawn until dusk during the few months that we might actually be able to sit outside.
• Our little corner of Somerset is besieged by fog for much of the autumn and winter. When it is not foggy, it is calm and has the clearest blue skies that we could have hoped for. When it is foggy we cannot see any of the barns from our caravan. We love both.
• We have discovered that Ash wood burns well unseasoned, which is lucky as we have also sadly learnt that ash dieback is closing in on us and that, by all accounts, resistance is futile.
• We rejoiced at the realisation that we live 3.5 miles form the site of Glastonbury Festival.
• We have learnt about bats and have three of them living in the barn-that-will-be-home.
• We have learnt that you need to provide special homes for bats when you want to disturb their peace by turning their home into your home.
• We have uncovered caves that mankind has never seen before and rediscovered caves that have not been seen for 50 years.
• We have had a glimpse of the murky and totally mystifying world of the mendip cavers (for cavers read a bonkers few who opt to spend their weekends and evenings in the cold and the dark, wading through water and squeezing through crevices). 
• I realised that I really quite miss my bath.
• We have registered as smallholders and are soon to be the proud owners of sheep and chickens.
• We have had and dismissed 4000** business ideas.
• We have found a wall to a grand house that used to stand on our land over 400 years ago and which had concrete poured on it about 50 years ago. I have yet to find out more about it but from what we have heard anecdotally it belonged to William Strode and was demolished because of his opposition to Kings Charles I and II.
• We have met some wonderful new people many of whom had their first spliff/drink/snog in our quarry.
• On a near daily basis one of us will discover a new view of Glastonbury Tor and will wax lyrical to the other about it despite our land being pretty much the only land in this part of Somerset that does not actually have a view of the Tor...watch this space for Tor-viewing-treehouse-construction news.
• We have totally fallen in love with both the idea and the reality of living in Somerset.

Yes it's a cliche and yes it sounds trite but we continue to be uplifted and inspired by this land every day.

Here is just a small selection of photos of some of my favourite spots of Dream Farm:

Stream

Lotte patiently waiting for sticks

Quarry Path

Much unused fire pit

Quarry wall

Making the most of the early autumn sun

So much of the land is criss-crossed with animal tracks

My favourite spot which next year I WILL spend more time in

In the shadow of giants

Fern-tastic

Re-instated path 

The Quarry edge

Long autumn shadows

The perfect spot for a little meditation

*ish

** not so much of an exageration

Enjoying The Journey...Honest

Since I last posted we have mainly been on holiday (get us), taking some much needed time out to travel across Europe for a friend's Birthday in Sweden. The trip was amazing, taking us through Northern France (full of Brits), Belgium (they drive pretty fast), The Netherlands (Utrecht is a treasure), Germany (watching the harvest happen around us), Denmark (Copenhagen was windy but lovely) and Sweden (paradise on earth) and importantly was as much about the journey there and back as it was about the four days on Gotland (please don't ever go, you will only spoil its empty perfection) with dear friends.

I now realise that we should be looking at Project Farm in much the same way. As our planning application rumbles on, it has become clear that because we are learning in a vertical where the hell did the ground go kind of way, it is inevitably going to be more complicated, stressful and lengthy than we had at first thought. We do not have endless pots of money to pay a planning consultant to negotiate their way through the murky council speak and endless 'further requirements' so we are learning how it all works as we go. Sometimes this feels empowering and positive, as if we really could do it all ourselves. At other times (most of the time) it all feels a little bit overwhelming and I get Paula Abdul stuck taking an eternity to walk down some steps with a MC Skat Kat as an ear worm ("I take two steps forwards I take two steps back" - you're welcome). Like our mammoth 2500 mile holiday if the only prize we recognise is the end goal then all the time in between, all the delays and set backs, will only frustrate us. It is all PART of the dream, not, as it can be tempting to feel, a set of increasingly obscure obstacles put in our way to delay us fulfilling our dream.

Of course this is so easy to write from a cafe with power and wifi and heating and all the other things that we are still in the process of getting. In practice it is like our own bespoke brand of mindfullness. We are learning to see beauty in all the chaos. When it fells like the council will not let us have windows for fear of damaging the integrity of the building, the balance is redressed by a call to the NFU (my own personal heroes) who send us endless information to arm ourselves with. We wake with the mantra of "we will soon have power, we will soon have power" and we go to sleep muttering "Its ok, tomorrow is another day, its ok, tomorrow is another day". As it happens we will have power by the winter if all goes according to plan. Which of course it may not. That's fine too. It's all part  of the journey and we ARE loving it. Honest.

Behind every concrete wall is an old wall of dreams. This particular wall is from the old house that used to sit on our site. More on that another time.

Put your back into it Daddy

Beauty in the chaos