While the planets realign themselves into the right position for the works to start, we have been mulling over some of the smaller details of the renovation.You'll remember the basement room, which you access from the front entrance and down a few steps. This will be the bike/shoe/boot/coat room or more catchily the vélo-vestiaire. The problem is, to get bikes through the front door and down those steps is a very tight corner, impossible to negotiate without a third arm and a bruised shin. Our original idea was to widen the little staircase and add a bike rail on it - you know, the kind you see in railway stations.But having got the quote back from the wood man, we decided a re-think was needed. Maybe we could use the large window onto the street. It opens from inside onto street level, and is easily tall enough to push a bike through (or a cart with the shopping). But how to manoeuvre the drop down on the floor?
The DIY Recycling Fairy had a great idea. We simply re-use the bottom three steps from the wooden staircase from the hallway down to the basement, which will be coming out anyway. We reinforce them with something solid underneath, and add on the bile rail down one side. And voila. It's all wood, so nothing a saw and a few nails can't sort out. Well, that's the theory. I'll keep you posted on how it turns out..
There were always going to have to be compromises.
We started the process of getting quotes from builders who could manage the whole project ("entreprise général") back in May/June. We had rather optimistically hoped to get these in before we went on holiday in July (but we did get one in - definite points for them).
So in August we do more house visits with contractors, hoping to have a few offers to chose from by the end of the month.
It was only at the end of August that we had enough offers to compare. And the prices we got back were fairly eye watering. So we decided to go back for another round, and also ask separate contractors to see if that made a difference (knowing that this makes the project much harder to coordinate and means the whole thing can take longer).
We have now, after months of hassling, finally got those offers in - all except one (which has been delaying and delaying for the last two months).
It's still not looking brilliant: if we do everything we wanted to do, it would almost double the cost.
So we have been painstakingly going through individual items, deciding what we need to do now (or never will) and what we can do later, and seeing what this does to the total budget.
Staying in are the under-floor heating in the kitchen, the rain-water circuit for the downstairs loo and utility room, the top-grade insulation needed to be 'low energy', the roof, windows, and the necessary water/electrics/heating etc.
The 'to do later list' is rather longer: re-plastering, all the painting, the green roof, anything in the garden, the second bathroom, the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, sanding and oiling the wooden floorboards and stairs. Depending on how brave we feel, we might have a go at doing some of this ourselves.
Needless to say, we'll not be splashing out on any new furniture and fittings for a while.
But frankly, I don't care if we're dining off tea chests, as long as we're there...
Hens in lavender. Not ours, but they could be. Don’t they look picturesque? And think of all those eggs...
A visit to a salvage yard in La Louviere, and some pretty encaustic tiles. It turns out they will buy our original 19th century encaustic tiles (uncleaned) at euro 5 per square metre, and sell us a different set (cleaned) for euro 175 per square metre. Hmm, you know what, we’ll think about it. At least it injects a bit more purpose into our tile cleaning endeavours.
Yanking off the ivy from the garden wall. Very satisfying. We’re going to have to decide what to do with the garden wall: probably scrape back the peeling paint and apply a coat of limewash. Something else to occupy us while the builders make up their minds whether they want to give us a quote…
Removing the patio tiles and piling them up for later use. Not sure exactly where and how these will be used, but worth getting them out of the way of the digger. If it ever shows up…
And if all that seems like a rather weak attempt to distract you from the fact that there is no news on the building work actually starting, then you’d be right…
Rest assured, we will be announcing it with trumpets when it actually happens.
Well, the lion dung and ultra-sonic waves did indeed deter the neighbourhood cats –at least for a few months.But the problem with both those solutions is that they don't last – batteries run out and monthly deliveries of lion dung get expensive.I had hoped that the shitty kitty would have learned to do its business elsewhere (ideally its owner's own garden) but in the last couple of weeks the stinky turds have returned with a vengeance.
Time for another solution, proposed by Rich.Extra hot chilli.It irritates their paws, but doesn't harm other wildlife or plants.And happily it's easily available in large quantities from our exotic corner shop.
After some discussion with the man in the corner shop, we plumped for the extra-hot chilli flakes. Powder would quickly blow away or get washed away in the rain, while the whole chillies would not have such good coverage.
We have given the garden a first generous sprinkling, and now have to wait and see...
(The Beatles, 1969) While we wait for the builders to come and transform the back of the house, there have been plenty of little projects for us to be getting on with.
One is to recover the original tiles from the old kitchen, so that we can use them in the new (bigger, lighter, heated) kitchen.
Back in March, we (well, technically Vincent and Loic), carefully prised the old tiles off the floor. Luckily, these were on a bed of sand, rather than cement, which made life a bit easier.
Next step was to leave them to soak a few months in the old bathtub ...
... then gently chisel off the sandy cement still caked on the back...
... and chip off the cement on the edges (and by the way, hello and welcome to the new Black & Decker workbench).
Then give them a last scrub before piling them up.
It remains to be seen how much floor we can actually cover with these tiles. The old kitchen had a surface area of 7.4 m2, while the new one will be 16.4 m2. So in any event we will have to find more of the same, or something which matches. We also wonder whether they will even be in a fit state to re-use, especially with underfloor-heating.
Answers to these burning questions, and a trip to a Belgian reclamation yard, still to follow...
It has been oh so quiet on the blogging front, but lest you think that no post means no progress, I am introducing a new feature.
Think of it as veeeery slow motion webcam, like one shot a week. At the end, as a special treat for those who are still with us when this project ever reaches completion, I'll put them together in a little film, so you can see a house renovate itself before your very eyes.
Of if you prefer, you can see it as an ever-evolving game of Spot the Difference. In the classic version there are ten subtle differences between the two otherwise identical pictures. Though I can't promise there'll be ten differences each time...
You can find it here, and also on the sidebar at the top for those who check in regularly.
Brussels is a pretty good place to buy property (aside the whopping 15% tax payable on every sale). One big incentive is the fact that the Brussels Region offers generous subsidies for building and renovating property.
Specifically, there are subsidies available for making improvements in energy efficiency (insulation and double-glazing etc), for restoring the façade of the house, for renovation works more generally, and for restoring the ‘petit patrimoine’, which means all the quirky features you see in typical Brussels townhouses, which may not themselves be listed, but which nonetheless characterize Brussels’ rich and varied architectural heritage (Art Nouveau door knobs, Art Deco sgraffiti, stained glass windows and the like).
The amount of the subsidies is craftily tailored to give the right incentive to the right people. So it will be adjusted according to your household revenues, and boosted if the property is in an area designated for local development (an “espace de développement renforcé du logement et de la rénovation” or EDRLR), and if you use ecological materials to carry out the works (FSC labeled wood etc).
Of course, each subsidy involves a different form to fill in, a different assortment of supporting paperwork, different ways of calculating the same items (like the surface area), and different timing. It shouldn’t be too easy after all.
It’s a bit of an ordeal, but there are a number of organization which will guide you through the process for free. In our area, Schaerbeek, we went to see Renovas, who sat with us for hours filling in the form, … Another place to go is the Centre Urbain in St Géry.
It is therefore with a huge sense of satisfaction that we can say that we have now completed all the form-filling, and as now just waiting for the confirmation that we can start the works.
Yes, it’s important to get the approval before you start the works or else you will not be eligible.
In our case, this should not cause any delay to the works. Our 1 August start date is now looking increasingly unlikely, since we are still waiting for a number of contractors to give us quotes. We were hoping to have lined up the contractor before we go away on holiday next week, but that’s looking increasingly unlikely… September is what we’re talking about now, and completion in March 2012, if we’re lucky. Sigh…
Another long June weekend… another few days of hard labour.
This time we were down in the basement, taking out the old blue bathroom, dismantling the staircase, stripping the walls back to the bricks, and filling bags with dust.
Fortunately we had extra supplies of cheerful stamina in the form of Tom and Rob, who kindly took a week out of their four-month university holidays to come and lend us their muscles, and some of their engineering skills. Fuelled with ice-tea and pizza, we managed to clear the basement in no time. Thanks guys!
As works inside the house creep towards the August (we hope...) start date, the garden is changing on a weekly basis.Here’s how it's looking at the moment.
It might not look like much, but there are few things to point out.
First, all that green is not just weeds.There is admittedly a bit of that, but mostly it’s the ‘green manure’ doing its stuff. Rather than lay down a perfect lawn and watch it get mashed up by the builders, or let the weeds take over entirely, we sprinkled clover and alfafa seeds to improve the soil while we wait.No toxic fertilizers, no smelly manure or lugging around new top soil– just letting mother nature do her thing.
Second, the far elder/compost corner is now beginning to look quite scenic, with two clematis racing though its branches (one a native Belgian and the other a Wisley pedigree – let’s see which one wins), and a few allium bulbs adding a splash of colour.
Third, the bee house is installed and waiting for its first guests (the result of a weekend's handywork earlier this year, playing with C's new power drill).
Fourth, mum’s hydrangea has come back to life, and seems to be at home it its shady corner, with some bits of old wood to keep the undergrowth at bay.
Finally (and Is, I hope you’re reading), the jasmine has made a comeback. Quite a surprise as it was totally frazzled by the frost, but this week we noticed a few shoots had emerged from the roots.Clearly tougher than we’d thought. Also doing well are the honeysuckle/sage combo, some resident pansies and the sweet peas (again, Is these were yours).
Of course it remains to be seen whether any of this survives i) the back of the house being dug out to the foundations and rebuilt, and ii) the garden walls being stripped and repainted. I do have a cunning plan involving lino and old carpets, but in the meantime, we have a few months to enjoy the sunshine and to get a better idea of what the garden could become.
I’ve mentioned before that we’re aiming for a ‘Low Energy’ house.So here’s what this means in practice. I warn you, this is going to be geeky.Fear not, we’ll be back to nice pictures and plans soon.
Apart from the obvious energy savings and environmental benefits, being official 'Low Energy' also means that we will be entitled to a grant from the Brussels Region, which is heavily incentivising house-owners to invest in measures to reduce energy consumption over the long term. This year’s budget was 12 million euro for such projects.
The pinnacle of low-energy achievement is the Passive House, which consumes less than 15 kWh per m² per year. That’s about 90% less than the average house in Northern Europe.Your house is so well-insulated that you hardly need heat it at all: it stays cosy essentially through the warmth given off by the inhabitants and rays of sunshine. Good insulation also requires the house being basically air-tight.If this sounds about as pleasant as living in a teenager’s shoe, you’d be right.This is why you’ll need a super duper ventilation system. And to make sure that fresh air does not mean cold air, you’ll need a ventilation system with a heat exchanger, so that the warm, stale air going out will heat the fresh air coming in. That’s the basic idea. The cherry on the cake is solar panels to produce what energy you do need, or solar heating panels to heat your water.
Doing this in old houses is a particular challenge, since this kind of insulation/air-tightness/ventilation system may require demolishing many lovely original features. Unsurprisingly, real passive houses tend to be new-builds. The next best option is a ‘Very Low Energy House’ which consumes less than 30 kWh per m² per year, and then the ‘Low Energy House’ which consumes less than 60 kWh per m² per year. Given that our house has some very lovely original features, and having discussed with a number of people who have done eco-renovations to old Brussels townhouses, we went for the pragmatic ‘Low Energy’ target.
How to go about this? To start with, you’ll need a good advisor. If your architect is not into this, there are plenty of specialist consultancies who can advise on the energy performance during the planning phase.
It’s a sophisticated model (developed in Germany and now used widely) into which you plug in detailed information about the thickness/type of your walls, technical specs of the materials used, orientation of the house, etc.In fact, not every wall and window, just the ‘envelope’ or outer shell of the main part of the house where you’ll be living. Because within that envelope, air and heat circulate freely. Once you have plugged in all this information, out pops a number.If the number isn’t right, you make a few tweaks and try again.
Sounds simple, but sitting through Friday’s meeting with the consultant and the architect, with thermal bridges, lambdas and U-values being bandied about, I can tell you it is anything but.
However the outcome of the discussions I do understand. We have three scenarios:
1.Exclude the basement from the ‘envelope’ (which is sensible, as you would not normally waste energy heating your garden tools).This means an 'envelope' with a total surface area of 167m². With basic insulation and double glazing, normal air-tightness of 7.8 vol/h, we would reach an energy consumption of 64kWh per m² per year. Ok, but not brilliant, and above the magic 60kWh which we need to be Low Energy.
2.So, we beef up the insulation (with things like multipor and unilit 20 if that means anything to you). We get our air-tightness down to 4 vol/h (which will have to be tested through a Blower Door Test).We add a heat exchanging ventilation system.This takes us to 43kWh per m² per year. Woo hoo, we’re there!
3.Still with me? Ok, so now comes the cunning part. And also the key flaw in the system, which is that it is based on a ratio between surface area and expected energy consumption. The first two scenarios assume that the envelope excludes the cellar, which gives us a total surface area of 167m².If we include the basement (and the staircase which was also previously outside the envelope), owing to the weird way in which the surface area is calculated, we get to total surface area of 244m².Weirdly, the assumed thermal loss of the basement floor is not that much (because of its depth, and the neighbouring houses on either side, which are assumed to be heated).So with some good insulation, and without even having to get the air-tightness below 7.8 vol/h, we end up with energy consumption of 46kWh per m² per year - still well within the Low Energy category.
The bottom line is that we can save on the costs of insulating the basement ceiling, on messing around with air-tightness and ventilation systems AND get even more of a subsidy (which is calculated according to the surface area of the envelope - so we get about Eur 3,000 more). How? By heating our basement.Nuts.
As I say, we’ll be back with the nice pictures next week…
It's been a while since we've updated you on the news, but that's not to say that nothing has happened. On the contrary, we have been bounding forwards.
First of all, we received the planning permission from the Commune. In record time in fact: we received it within two months of filing the application. Another reason why Schaerbeek rocks (and further confirmation that Belgian works quite well without a government).
So now we are waiting for the architect to finish drawing up the Cahier de Charges (the building specs) and the Metré (the list of quantities) and then we can start getting quotes from builders. The plan is still that they start work in August, but it all depends on whether the right man is free for the job.
Second, we've spent a few weekends at the house and can really see the difference. So here are a few before & after pictures of a couple of rooms.
Guest bathroom (second floor). You've seen this room before - it's the one at the front of the house with the leaking cornice, which explains the damp. The cornice has been fixed, and we've taken it back to the brick to dry out. The bathtub stays though.
Dressing room/ main bathroom to be (first floor). This is the lovely big room at the front of the house, which will have a bathroom box on the left hand side (hard to explain but you'll find out what that means in due course). The rest of the room will be dressing room, though could potentially become a bedroom.
Here is how we found it...
And here it is with a hundred years of lino and wallpaper steamed off.
Adjoining this room, through the double doors, will be the main bedroom. It seems to have previously been used as a kitchen, so that had to be dismantled, as well as the many layers of wallpaper and lino.
And here it is now:
So that's the first floor pretty much ready for the works to start. There is still some more wallpaper peeling to be done on the ground floor, and some plaster/ceilings to take off/down in the basement and the second floor, which will keep us occupied for another few weekends.
Oh and I haven't even started telling you about what we are doing in the way of energy efficiency.. As I mentioned before, we are aiming for the house to be officially 'Low Energy' (meaning that we will consume less than 60 KWH/m2/year), so there's a whole world of PEBs, PHPPs, Blower Door Tests to discover. That will have to wait for another time.
Exactly a year ago today, we were sitting in a small windowless room behind one of the gothic façades around the Grand’ Place of Brussels. It was there, in the Maison des Notaires, that, after 15 minutes of hand waving, we became the happy owners of our pile of bricks.
Those interested in the process of Public Auctions in Brussels should go here for all the important information. But for those considering this option, here is how it’s really done:
Compulsively check the latest offerings, published every week here and on immoweb.
Turn up at one of the viewings. Don’t expect the person showing you round to tell you anything useful. They’re just paid to unlock the door. But do identify the Curious Neighbour who will also be having a nosey and ask them about the area, the previous owner, the reason for the sale etc. They will know all.
If you like it, do not fail to mutter within earshot of the other viewers how dark, rotten, remote etc it is.
If you really like it, go back a second (or even third) time with someone who knows something about houses. We borrowed an architect friend who jumped up and down on the floorboards and gave a ballpark estimate of the renovation costs. Good enough for us, but if you’re worried about something, get a surveyor along (which will cost).
Here’s the crunch. Put a number on how much you’re willing to pay, given the costs of works. You can pretend to be scientific about it with spreadsheets and estimates, but it will always be a bit finger in the air. The point is that you decide a maximum and stick to it.
On the day itself, arrive well in advance and check out the other contenders, of course while appearing casual and confident. Psychology, see.
If you’ve not been to an auction before, get there early and watch an earlier sale. They are all open to the public and nobody will ask you who you are or why you’re there.
It's time. The Notaire (the one with the big belly and red cheeks) and his side-kick (the waif leaning under a tower of papers – there is a touch of Dickens about it all) arrive and take a seat at the top table. Notary will try to infuse a little humour into the situation (unsuccessfully). He will describe the property, any legal encumbrances or outstanding planning issues, and go through the rules of the sale, very slowly and clearly (in two languages if people so wish). Lots of time for questions.
Now the fun starts. The Notaire asks if anyone wants to start the bidding. If there is a starting price, he’ll start with that. Otherwise he’ll just ask someone just to name a price. Everyone looks blank. They all know that the person who starts the bidding will never end up with the house.
The Notaire begins to look a bit fed up; this could be a long afternoon. He tries to move it along. Someone shouts out, EUR 10,000! People snigger. But at least it got things moving. EUR 11,000!, says another. EUR 15,000!, says a third. The Notaire begins to look a bit fed up again; this could be a long afternoon. EUR 100,000! says a man at the front. Notary looks relieved: merci monsieur. The room falls silent; play time is over.
And it goes on, in increments of EUR 10,000, and as bidders fall away the increments get smaller. You’re still in the race, your top price emblazoned on your mind. When this number is reached, resist the temptation to go further. What’s another EUR 2,000 after all. And another. And another. This can be expensive (and could lead to you becoming the so-called "fol enchérisseur").
If you’re lucky, you might not reach your top price. You’ll just keep up with the bidding, each time topping the last person, and then nobody will say anything else. One time, Two times… and the hammer comes down. Sold to the couple at the back. Eek!
The room empties fast, and you walk up to the Notaire’s table. You hand over your identity card (weirdly, the first time anyone asks who you are) and sign the record, while he explains the next steps.
Just as your heart rate has calmed, a man rushes into the room. Is it finished? Am I too late? How much did it go for? Désolé monsieur, you are too late. It went for [a snip]. Monsieur, Oh zut, but I would have paid way more. Can we reopen the bidding? Blood pressure rises. Désolé monsieur, repeats our new friend the Notaire, you are too late ... and breathe...
But no, it’s not quite over. There might be a ‘Faculté de surenchère’ – meaning that the house is put back on the market, inviting people to bid more than your bargain price. Noooo! The only slight discouragement is that new bidders have to produce EUR 6,200 in cash to a ‘huissier de justice’ (having first found a huissier de justice..).
So for 15 days you wait. You try not to get your hopes up and gradually resign yourself to defeat. Despondently you start checking immoweb again. And then the phone rings. Madame, we have not received any further bidders; the house is yours.
Public auctions take place every day of the week, and I would very much recommend them for house-hunters needing a kick of adrenaline, or anyone curious about the Brussels property market.
You never know, you might walk away with a bargain.
You’ve seen the 2D plans. We now bring you the 3D model, inhabited by little plastic people to bring it all to life.
1. Vues vers le ciel depuis l'entrée.The hallway, with views of the sky.
2. G accueille le visiteur et C ne va pas se casser la figure car il se teint bien à la bibliothèque. Though I should point out that the bookshelves will be strictly a no-sitting zone, not least because that space behind where he is sitting is blocked by a window.
3. Interdiction de s'assoir sur le plan de travail: c'est pas fait pour ça !The big kitchen space at the back.Imagine a floor-to-ceiling window looking onto the garden. On the right you can see the door way leading to the staircase leading down to the garden.
4. Ca discutaille en bas mais C reste zen, il est au-dessus de tout ça. This is the view from the staircase – with internal windows looking down into the library and kitchen.
5. En remontant après avoir été chercher quelques bières dans la cave...Here you are standing at the top of the stairs to the garden. On the right you see the entrance to the kitchen, and off-stage on the right is the toilet. Front left you just see the stairs going down to the lush green garden. And another internal window with someone sitting on the kitchen top.
6. Le jeu formel des baies rectangulaires.Note the symmetry!
7. Depuis le puits de lumière...This is the view from the skylight looking down onto the kitchen – that’s the library with the darker floor, and the entrance to the garden stairs on the right.
8. La cave de G et la belle fenêtre vers le jardin. This is the room under the kitchen, aka the G’s garden room, for storing tools, over-wintering plants etc. There’ll also be the washing machine, a sink and hanging washing.
9. La pizza-party après les travaux. Another view of people milling about.
Great aren’t they?It’s slowly but surely becoming real.
The last time I mentioned plans, it was to explain the three options for the back kitchen. I don’t think I ever said which option we went for (I know, the suspense).
So without further ado, I present you the new plans showing what it will become. We went for the solution of putting a staircase in the kitchen, which leads directly to the garden.
It’s easiest to see from the side-cut through the kitchen.
Notice the light thing going on – I have to point out that the colours which are rather amateurishly added in are all mine. See the great big windows at the back? and the big window that straddles the landing? And the floor-to-ceiling library in the middle room? We are rather pleased with it all.
Then from the top you have the upper ground/ kitchen level - here you can see the stairs that would take you to the garden (and to the floor below):
And from the back, lots of window:
What this does mean is farewell to the lovely old wooden staircase that leads down to the cellar from the hallway. Lovely because it is original, has not been painted or spoilt, and is aged by a patina which makes the bannister feel right just right to hold on to, and makes you wonder about all those people who have gone up and down those stairs in the last hundred years.
But I have been persuaded that it will be surplus to requirements. Rationally they're right. Three staircases to the lower ground is a little excessive (and doesn’t at all help with the whole energy efficiency thing). But seeing as it is rather lovely, I’ll see if I can find it a new home. Any takers out there? maybe ebay worth a try?
Failing that, it will have to go the great staircase in the sky. Sniff.
Our main achievement since buying the house has been to clear the garden of the impenetrable jungle.
It turns out, what we’ve done is create a mega communal litter tray for all the neighbourhood cats.Because, it seems, there is nothing a cat likes better that someone else’s freshly cleared earth to turd in.Every time we go to the house, there is another little deposit in the garden, with the telltale scratchings of earth.
Enough is enough.
Ideally, we’d set up a sniper at the kitchen window to shoot water pistols charged with hot chilli water until they understand they are not welcome. (Nope, we are not cat lovers, apart from a couple of very special exceptions).Or we could bring in the heavies, and borrow one of our springer spaniel or greyhound friends to scare them off.No cat would last long against Moon’s legendary speed (you should see how fast he can snatch up a bacon buttie), or Percy’s dastardly dreadlocks and determined nose (at least for tennis balls).
However, as neither of those options is feasible, we turned to the internet for a solution.These seem to range from the lame (sprigs of citronella) to the inhumane (but we’d have problems burying the bodies).We went for a combination of natural deterrent and man-made cunning:
Lion poo.The idea being that cats establish their territory with smell.And one thing that will tell them this garden is already spoken for is the smell of a larger, scarier cat. (Who says cats are clever). Available from your local zoo or (preferable) as pellets soaked in essence of lion dung, then dried and sterilised, and sold as “Silent Roar”.
The “Defenders Mega Sonic Cat Repeller”, which “incorporates a sophisticated Passive Infra Red detection system, which constantly monitors a fan shaped area of a 98 degrees arc up to a distance of 12 metres. It detects animals moving into this area and triggers a burst of continuously variable ultrasound, which sweeps a frequency range of 18,000Hz, 24,000 Hz to repel them.”
We have today cleared the turds, hopefully for the last time, and laid down the traps.
Ta daa! What you see here is the result of months of agonising, and the beginning of Things Actually Happening.
It's the planning application, in octuplicate, with detailed plans & photos. Details of what's inside to follow...
All going well, it will be delivered to the Maison Communale tomorrow morning. That starts the clock ticking for the Commune (Schaerbeek) and the Region (Brussels) to give us their verdict. Not entirely sure how these wholly separate institutions will manage to coordinate their views, but Belgium does excel at multiple overlapping layers of government (who needs a federal goverment anyway) so I'm sure it will all work out somehow.
If I understand correctly (a big if), within 30 days we will get confirmation that the application is complete, and then the Region and the Commune each take another 45 days. End of April by my reckoning. But this doesn't mean we just just sit back and wait. If the building works are really going to start in August as planned, there's the terms of reference to draw up, builders to choose, wallpaper to peel, rubble to clear and bee boxes to hang. Watch this space...
Just a week ago, the ground was frozen solid. Grey clouds and drizzle are still lingering on, and we are still some way off balmy evenings, but look what we found today...
The clover seeds we scattered over the ground we'd cleared, to provide some green manure. It was done bit too late, more like October than August, so it had just a month to settle in before the big freeze started. So I'm pleased that some of them survived.
The honeysuckle came from one of C's colleague, while the daffodil and crocus bulbs went in last autumn and also seem to be doing what they should.
Mum's Villosa hydrangea is another story. This is what it looked liked in September when it went in.
And this is what it looked like today... rather ravaged by the frost. Maybe it was a bit little to be left out in such a cold winter.
However, I am sure those are new leaves at the end of the branches, admittedly more brown than green, but I'm hopeful...
But having got the quote back from the wood man, we decided a re-think was needed. Maybe we could use the large window onto the street. It opens from inside onto street level, and is easily tall enough to push a bike through (or a cart with the shopping). But how to manoeuvre the drop down on the floor? 
