October in Scotland - season of rain, more rain, armpit deep mud and hurricane force winds. Also, by happy
coincidence, the month we began our house build.
It’s been two years since we moved to the country from
Glasgow. It was a decision that
surprised us – we’d talked about it for years, but a combination of great work
and better friends had kept us far longer in the city that we’d intended.
I was writing and making documentaries, Nichol had a
thriving business in fine art, and we had close friends who were like extended
family – we ate together, socialised together and our kids had grown up like
siblings. It was hard work and it was
fun, and our dream of building a house in the country seemed certain to stay
just a pipe one.
Then came a double whammy.
Art is rarely an area to make money, and when the recession hit, it hit
us hard. We spent as long as we could
keeping the business afloat, paying our staff out of our savings and not taking
wages ourselves, but it was soon clear that this was going to cost us all we
had.
Then, worse news. Our
best friends had got jobs in Ireland and were leaving within months. We had a choice, we could stay and struggle
or sell everything we owned, find a plot of land and create our dream
home.
We both knew what we’d always wanted. My dream had been a hobbit hole, underground,
with curved walls and windows and filled with quirks based on my
favourite children’s books. Nichol
fancied a castle, or perhaps a stately home. Then we looked at our budget; we could afford
a box. So the task began, to find a
plot, agree with each other about anything,
and fill our box with as much interesting stuff as we could manage.
The plot part was relatively easy. We found a piece of land in central Scotland,
and started to think about what to make. We definitely wanted an eco-house, something
that we could run at the lowest cost possible, and which would sit naturally
in the land. It also had to be something
the kids loved, so we enlarged the site plans to table top size, filled it with
toy trees from a train set, and let the children ‘play’ in the garden.
As they played, we moved our ‘house’ round behind them,
keeping well out of the way of the ‘bike trail’, the ‘treehouses’, the ‘rope
swing’ and the ‘unicorn paddock.’
Avoiding the ‘crocodile swamp’ was far trickier.
It worked though. We quickly
found a location for our wonderful new home. All we
needed now was an architect…