The calm before the storm

The site of the chicken bordello to be.

Because it's going to take something like a storm to make a difference.
Currently the chickens are happy pecking away in the devastation that is our excuse for a garden.
I first need to have a general tidy up. The place looks a bit like a scrap yard.
There is the broken bench that they like to hold their knitting circle on. that is going to be taken apart, painted and repaired. Then it will be fit for tinyholder's bottoms and not just a chicken perch.

the knitting circle will have to find new digs

There is also a matching char that will be getting much the same treatment.
I am in two minds with what to do with the broken branches that had been cut out of the hedge last year. Should I break it down, bag it up and keep to burn on chilly summer evenings?  Or should I just put it into the green recycling? The largest branches I will keep to put into the new chicken bordello we have planned. I don't wish the girls to be too put out by their smaller environment so I plan to build high as well as wide. With this I can put in a variety of branches and perches. Maybe a couple of high up nest boxes for them to lay in.
Then there is the Somme like garden itself to turn into a haven of growing.  A good dig over and loosen up of the soil should just about do it.

a courtyard to be.

There is also the garden path to clear off. this will be a back breaking task in itself. Although we do plan to replace the path in the near future it is unusable at the moment.
The court yard will benefit from a good tidy and a hose down and it is fit to go. In  time the walls and fences will be utilised as a structure to grow things up. But with a tidy up it can be used as somewhere to sit now.

It's going to be hard work but so very well worth it.

Start at the very begining.

I long for something like this!

The sun is shining, the birds are singing and the egg laying committee is in full swing. It is time DD and I got our butts in gear and started to turn the Somme into a garden haven.
We have such grand plans. However, they all seem to stem from a glass of fizz while standing in the sun with a bantie on a shoulder. We are clearly some sort of booze swigging, land locked, pirate wannabes.
Last Sunday saw such an event. We have now revised all our plans. A pneumatic drill is being hired and the garden path is coming up! *happy dance*
There is nothing more boring than a regimented garden with a straight path. Veggies organised into neat rows and clean washing flapping in the breeze.
Well not for us. We have decided we will stagger the garden constructions (shed, greenhouse and the chicken bordello). This will enable us to utilise as much of the sunshine in our east facing garden. The courtyard will become a white washed sun trap. Covered in pots of aromatic herbs. I have some fab ideas regarding growing vertically as well as on the ground. No post, wall or bit of fence will not have a purpose.
Peas, beans and even cucumber will thrive (I am sure of it).
We have pinched the idea of covering the small area between the kitchen wall and the fence with some corrugated plastic. Affording a sheltered area for bikes, a small bench and table and some quail in a covered run and house.
However, as exciting as these plans are, we first need to clear the garden, and that will take a lot of time, strength and a large skip. The old nazi shed has to go. It was put up by the previous owners. Odd people, they had planks of nails along their fence to stop cats walking on it. The carpeted, curtained shed was, I feel sure, the Old Man's safe haven from the Old Dear. Or perhaps she would lock him in there for punishment for not bringing her the local puss population to boil into stew.
Anyhow, all this has to go.
Frankly, I can't wait.....

Tearing Down the Walls.

Here, at the Tinyholding DIY is a constant on going process. Think, painting the forth bridge and you will be along the right lines. Our latest undertaking is to tame and beautify the dining room.
Up until this point it has merely been a functional space. It was where we stacked the recycling, ate our meals and journeyed through to reach the kitchen and bathroom.
Well, no longer. It is now officially a building site.
We started by stripping the walls. Not just of wall paper, my friends. Oh no! Here at the Tinyholding we like to do things in style. After removing a few feet of the god awful "old lady" wallpaper it was clear that the 100 year old plaster had given up the ghost. It no longer provided a suitable base to adhere wallpaper to. It was now being held in place by layer upon layer of hideous patterns. Stripping it away was an interesting excavation of the last 50 years of DIY fashion. To be honest, I doubt the good taste of those that have gone before.
Interestingly, we discovered that there had been a cupboard in existence at some time over history. We unearthed the original lintel over the fireplace. Found the "interesting" evidence of other DIY'ers handy work. Most importantly, we have found that the plaster and wallpaper was holding the bottom stair in place.
DD, himself undertook the dusty job of removing the plaster. Inch by inch he removed the offending substance. Inch by inch we covered the house in a thick layer of dust.
There was dust upon every surface. All the trinkets and ornaments around the house had left an imprint of where they lived. Ever the poor cat, Slinky, was dusty. Wandering out from her hidy-hole, she looked like she was coated with years of dust. Showing a close liking to a feline version of Miss Haversham. We were almost expecting her to start quoting about her lost love and asking for Pip and Estella.

The next stage was to plaster the walls. Or so we thought. As it turns out the walls are in such bad shape, the most economical and achievable method was to board the walls. Cue much muttering, measuring and cutting from both DD and his Dad. The boards themselves weigh a ton, and having to move them about has proved to be a challenge in itself. We have had the rather frightening moment when DD almost found himself flattened, pancake like beneath a pile of them. Nesty came rushing to his aid, shouting "come quick, DD is being crushed to death!!!!!!!!!"
Huck, certainly came into his own at this juncture. Flexing his muscles he embarked upon a rescue plan. I felt myself very clearly and defiantly directed by the men of the household in operation "save DD"
For my own part, I was the supplier of both minced tarts and port (after all Christmas was on the horizon).
I spent my time cleaning up the layer of dust (I even dusted the appliance vents) and making cranberry sauce (see recipes).
To date, the building site still stands. The rather wonderful furniture is in residence but the walls/floor are yet to be completed.
Painting the fourth bridge? You bet!



*stay tuned to see updates*

Intrepid adventures into the living room.

The Tinyholding has been home and hearth to DD for around 10 years.  He has lived here, and worked here with moderate success.  I say moderate because when the rest of the team moved in the dining room looked like a building site.  The oven and the washing machine were out of service.  The children's room(s) were being used as a storage area and DD lived between the rooms he needed to function. These rooms, that he has lovingly decorated and restored are a testament to his creativity, tastful eye and perfectionist nature. I don't think he has been too shell shocked by the difference a whole family can make.  Indeed, I think he shares my belief that a family can make a house into a home.
There have, however, been one of two problems arising from our installation. How exactly we thought we would fit two households full of STUFF into one (smaller) house is beyond me.  We are still tackling these issues one at a time. Slow and steady wins the race. We are both fully aware you cannot fit the contents of a transit van into a shoe box. Sacrifices have been made and we will continue to do so.  DD has removed all defunct items from the storage (oops I mean children's) room(s).  We can now look to making them into two separate rooms on a more permanent basis. Instead of partitions we can aspire to walls, and doors!

The thing that has spurred us on to get things done is the imminent arrival of some spanking new dining room furniture. Soon it will be the season of goodwill and good food.  We are having a house full and do not wish to have to seat them around our picnic table that currently serves us as our dining suite. As I'm sure you can appreciate, we do not wish to place our lovely new furniture into a building site. The subsequent decoration involves DD having access to his tools without the aid of a mountaineering pick and crampons.  So operation declutter has commenced.

So far between us we have cleaned and reorganised child burrows (ew ew ewwwwwwww) This involved the discovery of many micro bacteria growing on pants and in cups. Making a certain Nesty Boglin's burrow look less like a reject pile from a Sally Army Shop. Donning a bio hazard suit and slicing through the teen fug of  Teen Beasts Lair.  Removing long dead DD technical gubbins and a general spit and polish. I am pleased to report that the Boglin Burrow has remained tidy and she has even folded her Pjs. The Teen Beast's lair has remained minimal in it's fallout. And DD's nerves are calm.
The chest of draws that will go toward housing my extensive wardrobe have been emptied and are in the process of being restyled with an eclectic collection of ceramic knobs.
The office has once again become a haven of gizmos and tranquility.
My task for the day was to excavate the living room. I have a vivid memory of it being a light and airy room of grainy wooden furniture and thriving plants. A place where DD and I could entertain guests, or sit and relax of an evening. A room to indulge our joint love of music and TV dramas.
Our haven of tranquility has turned into a youth club. Indeed, I am considering installing a revolving door to accommodate the teen population of the village. Our adult, peaceful living room has turned into a gaming den for Teen Beasts. It is the home of xbox, wii, Ds's and laptops. The terrain littered with empty crisp packets, sweet wrappers, juice glasses and other child detritus. The sweet, scent of the household flora is masked by the general child odor of sweaty feet and biscuits.
Well, no more! I have primped and polished. I have trimmed the plants into happy foliage. I have swept and dusted. I have reorganised wires and put away controllers. The room now smells of beeswax and lilies.
The lamps shed a cozy glow over our tranquil family room once again.
Or at least the did at 3.30pm. Since then there has been a steady stream of marauding children, three cats and a dog in there.
Woe betide them if it is not left as it was found!

Harry is heading for a hiding!

Dear Harry,
I do love you with all my heart. I know you are an old man and think this gives you impunity to act as you wish. Your cuddles are the business and your giant fat belly is adorable. I love your cute black ears and the way you flick your bottle brush tail when you walk.

However, listen up buster. Your fluff and old age will not see you through another night like last night. The office is not your own personal palace. It is a work place for myself and DD. It is not a chill out room for overweight, has been, thespian cats! Scratching at the door is unacceptable at the best of times. Damaging the paintwork on the door frame will not gain you friends or sympathy. Pulling threads free of the carpet will only make us, your people, cross. But, remember well my dear boy. Doing it at 3am will, I promise, earn you such displeasure you will find yourself living your twilight years OUTSIDE! I care little for the rain and wind! You are wearing your very own exclusive range of fur coats. I WILL test it's weatherproof merits. Those bowls of delicious meaty morsels (by the way, the four of them are not all for you!) will cease in their abundance. You will have to find a new love of juicy meeces, as they will no longer be a tasty snack but the mainstay of your diet.
All in all, my furry friend, THINK ON!
your loving human
MD x

The Mould Master!

DD has become the Zen master of mould destruction. Since adding seven more sets of lungs and 300% more laundry to the house the condensation created has become a huge problem. It is an old 19th century terrace and has very little ventilation. It was originally built as a two up two down colliers terrace. I love to sit and imagine the state of the art closed range that would have been in the chimney breast of the kitchen (now our dining room) and the open coal fire in the "good parlour". The windows would not have been double glazed, and the need for ventilation would have been minimal. Modern central heating and glazing has rendered the house a sort of warm sealed unit. Imagine putting a warm damp cloth into a biscuit tin and leaving it in a cold damp field. No doubt within a couple of days you would have a furry friend to call your very own.
Our bedroom is suffering the worst of it, as that is where the laundry is dried. We live in every spare inch of this house and there is simply nowhere else to place it. Therefore our bedroom has started to resemble a Victorian laundry.
The wall has a creeping black mould that is working it's insidious way upwards. Soon we will be sleeping in a dark, dank hole that looks like a set piece from the film se7en. I will have to start looking for emaciated corpses in the cupboards at this rate.
At least it did until DD saved the day (and myself from nightmares) Yesterday saw him on his knees scrubbing the wall with a solution of warm water, biological washing powder and a squeeze of bleach. He has done a splendid job. The bleach removed most of the staining and the washing powder killd the spores. Unfortunately it also thinned the paint, but hey ho, you couldn't see past the black mould anyway.
Half a dozen sturdy holes drilled through the walls, has provided some seriously need air flow and now we watch and wait.
Of course, being a Sunday evening all this was achieved with a cool glass of C&F to hand.  Power tools and wine?  Safety first ;)
Dear reader, I will not fool you into thinking I merely sat around watching DD's sultry form handle power tools in a manly way.  I, for my own part tackled the festering hole that had become my bathroom. It had got to the point where you would emerge from the shower feeling somewhat more soiled than when you went in.
Armed with a determined stare and a large bottle of bleach I whipped the mould into submission. Once again the tile grout is white and the floor does not contain botulism.
Being a vile chewed bubblegum pink with the most heinous flower pattern. Not to mention the matching pink suite. It cannot be called a nice bathroom. It is high priority to have it transformed into a haven of ablution. I can, however say it is clean! And that dear reader, is something to be proud of, in our eternal fight against the damp.

washday blues (and reds, and whites, and yellows)

Yipee, the tinyholding has a new washing machine!

We were kindly donated a new machine by the generous neighbours of DD's Ma and Pa. Now we can tackle the growing mountain and not spend a small fortune at the local laundrette (very lovely ladies btw and a cute kitten)  I have every confidence it can cope with the two little spark's vile pants! Excess schooliform! Chicken soiled clothing and pooch furred bedding!

The sheer bliss of laying in bed at night and hearing the grime of the day being sluiced away is heaven indeed. Perhaps shares in ecover could be a sound investment?