I am a positive person, I always look at what I do have, and try not to mourn for what I don’t. What I won’t have soon is my beautiful little family farm. It’s going up for sale when the dreary wet days of winter are behind us and spring arrives in a great burst of life and hope, with a vibrant green backdrop and birdsong through the valley.
The drone went up in the autumn while there was colour and joy in the landscape, the mud, wet and misery of winter, which apart from log fires and early evenings has little to recommend it ahead. When I saw the photographs I gasped with shock, had I really not noticed how incredibly beautiful this rolling valley of Oak, beech and ash trees, small odd shaped fields and hedgerows really was from the Arial view of red kites, buzzards and numerous birds?
Realistically, this beautiful corner of Gloucestershire will not be sold to a farmer. More than half of small farms are broken up and acquired as investments as part of a portfolio with resulting tax relief, carbon offsets or maybe a private residence, which then rents out or sells off the land. Does this matter? Probably not, at the end of the day you cannot change the way things are and if someone loves the place and enjoys being here, well, good luck to them. But please look after the land that generations have nurtured.
One thing is for sure, I cannot see myself ever visiting this farm again. Mainly this is because the house, my home will change. The ‘back kitchen’ aka an absolute mess of coats, dog beds, wellies, gloves, penknives, massive wood box called Ronnie (Ronnie Wood) will be gone, and marvelous things will have been done by the new owners who will probably say “You should have seen the state of the place when we moved in!” You can always tell a real country house from the brown leather settees (don’t get marked and can be wiped over), the carpets that are a tweedy or flecked with brown and beige (don’t show the dirt) and as for white anything….forget it! Quite often the whole ground floor will be solid tiles with strategically placed rugs so it can all be mopped over and shaken out. Country house style is as near to a mud/slurry colour as you achieve with interior design. I don’t care….its home.
My new life will have to include land, its a huge element of who I am. When I look at details on the online agency sites I take a very quick look at the outside of the house then scroll to the land/garden and outbuildings, looking at the satellite view. Also worth checking local planning applications and public comment, it really gives a ‘feel’ for the area and highlights any ‘serial objectors’ whether it effects them or not. (usually retired professionals with time on their hands and google at the ready and speed dial to the local council). Oh God, please don’t let me turn into one of them and yet an element of me says “thank goodness” we have some sort of planning control, unlike the 60’s and 70’s, a time that my dad referred to as vandalism, and Bath, where I grew up lost thousands of historical buildings and features, to be replaced by modernity which has since been demolished. A local husband and wife team called Ruth and Peter Cord sketched and wrote about that which was gone forever.
So , the decisions was made. At first an almost casual remark by my business partner throwing the idea of a new life, to which I said “yes”. That one affirmative word has yet to reveal future of possibility, excitement and unknown challenges. ”Yes”…the word that has and will change my world forever as it has for many others.
Ploughing mashed potato 