Springtime in Cornwall

Maude, the French WWOOFer arrived at lunchtime on Monday and seemed very nice and keen to work. In the afternoon she cut down the brambles that were growing in between the raspberry canes at the bungalow, while I carried on with the job I had started in the morning – painting the outside loo! Well, the plumber had arrived, so I couldn’t really do anything in the house.

On Tuesday it was a beautiful day and we spent all morning barrowing loads of topsoil from behind the barn up to the vegetable garden to fill in the old pond just inside the gate to enable James to safely get the tractor in to do the rotovating. The top soil had been in a large heap for a number of years and had compacted somewhat - we had to use a pickaxe to break it up enough to shovel into the wheelbarrows. It took 18 wheelbarrows to fill what looked like a small hole but, as I said to James, they were ‘girlie’ wheelbarrow loads as we didn’t have the physical strength to have them really full! It got so warm that eventually I was working in my T-shirt but, unfortunately, I didn’t think to up my fluid intake accordingly and ended up retiring to bed at 7.30 with a migraine – no, I don’t expect sympathy – I know I don’t drink enough. Maude was very concerned about me and the next day made sure I drank several glasses of water.

Maude left again on Thursday (I don’t think it was anything I said!) because she found out that she had a job interview back home in Brittany, and as she has not had a paid job since she finished her studies 7 months ago, she felt she had to go back and attend. It was a shame really, as we were getting on quite well and I was beginning to remember a lot of basic French from my school days (thank you, Miss Archer, you may have scared your classes witless but at least we learned something!), so there were some simple language lessons going on most of the time that we worked together. For instance, she would ask me what the time was as she didn't have a watch, I would tell her in English and then she would say 'and in French?'

On Wednesday afternoon, another glorious sunny day, Maude and I went for a circular walk along the lane from the farm, down another lane to the old mill (now a rather lovely house), back along the strip of land between the old mill leat and the River Inney, and up through Jo and James’ wood back to the farm. On the way we passed ‘my cottage’, which I first discovered back in November and have thought a lot about since. It is situated on a very quiet lane, facing east with magnificent views across a wooded valley and not another house in sight. It is also empty, locked and semi-derelict. My heart is drawn to this little cottage, it is so sad and I want to make it happy again. At the moment it is still probably saveable with a lot of hard work and quite a lot of money, but the upstairs windows are broken and have been for a long time, the window frames are rotten and the outhouse that once housed the ‘bathroom’ has caved in. How do I know all this? Because, dear readers, I had a damned good snoop about one day back in December! It has a lovely (well, you have to use your imagination a bit) south facing garden and would be ripe to re-do as an eco-home; ground source heat pump, bore hole, solar panels, etc. etc. Unfortunately, I have been told that the people who own it want it to fall down so that they can try and get planning permission to build a bigger, modern home on land adjacent to the site. Ugh! It shouldn’t be allowed – this is a traditional Cornish cottage with a large inglenook (judging by the size of the chimney – I did not break in!) and deserves to be saved! Perhaps I should write to the local council and see if I could get it listed? That would stop them allowing it to fall down. Okay – rant over.

We continued on our walk and saw primroses and celandines all along the hedgebanks and then we startled a deer that bounded across in front of us, forded the river in two bounds and disappeared up the slope on the other side of the valley. We also heard the woodpecker in the oak wood and the buzzards mewing overhead. The season seems to be so well-advanced down here that I wouldn’t be surprised to see returning swallows before I leave on 1st April.

The days here pass in a contented blur, so much so that I cannot remember from day to day exactly what I have been doing – suffice it to say that the majority of the time has been spent doing things at the bungalow, although I did make some bread yesterday using the recipe I tried at Cusgarne, and yesterday afternoon and most of today I have had an enormous bonfire! Bliss! It never ceases to amaze me how small a pile of ash is left after burning massive amounts of branches and twigs, quite magical......and also extremely therapeutic.