I was out near the old mill last Tuesday—the one with the rebuilt lintel from 1924—trying to clear a section of dry stone wall that had given up the ghost. I ended up halfway through the afternoon with a blister the size of a five-pence piece because I’d trusted a glossy brochure over my own […]
Continue Reading
I was sitting in the village hall last Tuesday, listening to a consultant in a sharp suit drone on about “strategic urban regeneration frameworks,” and I nearly walked out. People love to wrap simple things in layers of jargon to make them sound more expensive than they are, but when it comes to community land […]
Continue Reading
I was standing in a hallway in a lovely mid-century detached over in Chawton last Tuesday, watching a young couple walk through a property that had been “staged” to death. The place smelled of nothing but expensive lavender spray and looked like a showroom where nobody actually lived. It was all designer cushions and sterile […]
Continue Reading
I was standing in the kitchen last Tuesday, staring at a loaf of sourdough that had gone from being a beautiful, crusty specimen to something resembling a piece of discarded drywall in less than forty-eight hours. It’s a common frustration, and frankly, I’m tired of seeing those fancy, over-engineered bread boxes in the lifestyle magazines […]
Continue Reading
I spent thirty years inspecting the structural integrity of houses, from the flint-walled cottages in the Test Valley to the newer builds out near Salisbury, and if there is one thing I know, it is that a solid foundation is everything. The same applies to a Sunday roast. I see people these days buying those […]
Continue Reading
I was out by the old tithe barn last Tuesday—the one with the flintwork dating back to the mid-1800s—trying to patch a section of dry stone wall that had given up the ghost. My knee decided, quite inconveniently, that it wasn’t going to cooperate with the damp weather. It’s a funny thing; you spend your […]
Continue Reading
I was sitting in the back room of the Red Lion last Tuesday, listening to young Miller from down the lane lamenting his first house purchase, when it hit me just how much nonsense is floating around about the taxman. He was looking at some glossy brochure that made the whole process sound like a […]
Continue Reading
I remember standing in the middle of the village green back in ’94, watching a committee spend three hours debating the precise shade of bunting for the marquee, while the actual tea tent was missing a kettle and the raffle prizes were sitting in the back of a damp van. It’s a common mistake, thinking […]
Continue Reading
I was standing in my back garden last Tuesday, staring at a particularly stubborn patch of parched lawn near the old stone wall—which, mind you, was built around 1890—and realized I’d been doing things the hard way for years. Most people think that learning how to install a water butt is all about buying the […]
Continue Reading
I was standing by the old pavilion last Tuesday—the one built in 1924, though the roof tiles have been a mess since the late eighties—and I watched a group of youngsters kick a ball against a fence that’s seen better decades. It struck me then that most people think reviving a village sports club requires […]
Continue Reading