This is how we do it in Alentejo. With a wheelbarrow. I just decided it was time to live the dream. The old brick shack on the hill has been a great shelter and has lots of potential, but my heart is in my little mud house.
Anyone who knew me when I lived on Mull will remember we were always 'flittin'. I guess my mum had a restless spirit and we had two farms at once, for a while. I remember coming home from Oban High (where I was a weekly boarder) and being told I was walking in the wrong direction home! Oh, no, she had done it again!
Anyway, back to the present. I must tell you how it feels to live in a house you have actually built with your own hands.... and a rush of words come: happy, smug, amazed, curious, warm, sheltered, hugged by nature. It's grand.
See how my clothes shelves (yes, they came down on the wheelbarrow) disappear when you look at them side-on.
My desk (which is also a treadle sewing machine) and next to it a spare bed/comfy chair, by the fire.
The window seat, where the heat from the stove slowly penetrates the clay and is a very nice place to sit and drink morning coffee. Beside that is the arts and craft zone.
My bed, where I can look out and see the hills far in the distance, and get the morning sun.
And this is the kitchen area for the moment as it is too windy to cook outside most of the time, which is why I will be building the extension, soon!
And there are daffodils blooming in the garden. Joy.
