ask the universe

So.

A couple of days I wrote here that we were struggling with finding a suitable static for temporary accomodation.

My final sentence was "hoping patience pays off here too."

I sat and visualised what we would need to keep us all warm and dry.  Nothing fancy, nothing earth shattering just simple and clean.

I placed an advert on Gumtree.  After my homebrew luck, you never know.

Four days went by and I got the little email sent by Gumtree reminding me that no one had replied to my ad, and perhaps I should pay a little bit of cash to make it more promienent.  I could see how this would work if you were trying to sell a car, but not for my particular situation.

Then, late one night I got a text message. I will forever read that text message both aloud and in my head with a booming God-like voice.  It was simple enough, just asking me if I had thought to check the freebies section on Gumtree.

It hadn't occured to me at all....can you see where this post is going?

Turns out that somone a couple of hours north of us was giving away a static that would suit us perfectly, and so after a few back and fourth emails we are the thrilled new owners of a static, which has only cost me a transportation fee.

I tell you with absolute certaintanty.  If you want something and your reasons are good and pure, then the Universe listens, and makes it happen.

I am learning now that the frustratons of past endeavours in to land buying were all part of the learning process.  It was a test to see how much we really wanted this, to see if we would keep on and on.

Our long term vision for this little place is to open it up and share it with people, and with this sharing  ethos at the centre of what we want to do...I firmly believe that the universe is listening.  And helping.

the heat arrives and more thoughts on camping

**I found this saved in drafts - we aren't camping now but I don't know why I didn't publish it as it sums up exactly how we were living**

We are still camping.

This is OK mainly because the weather is good.  In fact it is so hot we can barely move.

Keeping cool has become the main preoccupation of nearly everyone.

The tents are boiling hot all day.  All vents are opened in an effort to keep it cool whilst limiting the number of bugs that share the space with us.

Wasps are proving an issue.  They are everywhere.  I now have a wash up area under cover (think camp site sink) Washing up dishes has become a danger sport, and I can be regularly seen running around with a dishcloth and a cup as I defend myself from a wasp onslaught.  It isn't one, or even two.  Most likely it is five or six all intent on settling on whatever it is I'm trying to clean.

We haven't made it to the coast, even though it is a measly ten miles away.  Our days are full.  We are building, moving mounds of earth, cooking, clearing up after the cooking, gathering fire wood, hauling water or boiling water.  Living this way takes a lot more time.

I'm not complaining as this feels like truly living.  Every day I am aware of the slight changes in the weather.  I watch the horizon for rain clouds (there are none) and I notice the small things around me.  The colours of the stones in the stream, the huge number of white butterflies and where they gather, the arc of the moon.  Things that I would have liked to have known before now, but because I was cosseted inside I was not in tune with.

I am thankful for this time.  I know that it will get easier, that we will put infrastructure in place, and we will some day have solid walls and a roof, but I am happy for now to wait, to marvel in this naturally world and pretend that I too am a wild creature at home in my surroundings.

Haybales

Before we officially owned the land (can you ever really own a place?  I think not, but that's another post for another time) the farmer we bought from asked if he could take a hay crop from the land.  We were OK with this as we needed hay for our horse over the winter months, and so we came to an agreement that he could cut and bale at his leisure and then leave us enough winter hay in the barn up the road.

What none of us thought about or realised was the hours of play that a few bales could provide for a group of children.

Several were rolled together and a slightly dangerous game of bale jumping was developed.  It started with tentative jumps, but within a matter of days confidence was high and it became a race.  Who could race across the bales the fastest?

There was also one lonesome bale left at the top of the field.  We quickly realised that this was a great place to sit and watch the comings and goings across the valley.

After a few weeks, the farmer needed to put the bales under cover.  It was with heavy hearts that the children said goodbye to the bales as they were taken away on a trailer.  The loss of the bales left a gap in their play, that it became clear could only be filled with the invention of an equally if not more dangerous creation of a tree swing.

Beginning :: first there were tents

The weather was good.

We were feeling full of optimism.

Camping, real, wild camping seemed like a good idea.

And it was.

For three glorious days the sun shone and the sky stayed that spectacular blue that you only get in Summer.

I cooked each meal on an open fire using a home made tripod, I felt like a frontier woman as I fried eggs and toasted bread whilst perched over our hastily made stone ringed fire pit.

We had modest bathroom facilities.  A large metal basin for washing and long grass for, well, other stuff.

We built a shed and a shelter, and as the last few nails were hammered in, the heavens opened.

My goodness.

They really opened.  We watched from inside the shed as the fire pit sizzled and gradually filled with rain, and then we watched some more as the rain puddled and poured down the hillside, and gushed out of springs in the ground.

It rained for two days, and for those two days we huddled under the shelter or in the shed, or occasionally in the car.  

By the end of it we were all soaked through and there wasn't a dry item of clothing between us.  We packed away wet tents and wet sleeping bags and wet children, and were promised by neighbours that it was a freak summer storm.

There were good bits though.  Sitting in the shed with steaming mugs of tea (at this point I stopped the frontier lark and used the small camping has stove) and playing parlour games is a memory I'm sure we will all remember. After having only tents the shed felt like a luxury, and we were all grateful to have a dry space to sit in, even if our clothes were soaked through.

We returned to the house full of plans and ideas.  Our clothes were damp but our spirits were high.