After yesterdays somewhat churlish post in grinch mode I went home and talked with Amalia, about her work. She showed me her latest projects and as usual I am floored by her creativity. She says she isn’t intellectual but she is; she’s too busy fighting it and worrying that once she starts writing about it she’ll stop being a practitioner. She also made a potato, kale and broccoli salad with a raw garlic, lemon juice, olive oil and mustard dressing. A veritable explosion of goodness in my mouth. Terry got roped into fixing Maud, Ami’s bike but not before riding it around the backroom like a madman. In other news Vinnie has not left Ami’s side even though Terry insists he is the owner of Vinnie and tempting him away for all manner of noisy games. However Vinnie very much knows who Ami is
This morning I have started my day by watching two videos I took whilst in Gradishte in the summer. The quality of the footage is dismal, the audio sporadic and the cringe-worthiness at it’s nadir BUT the joy of being transported, albeit vicariously, back home was elixir to my soul. So I decided to post some images of the house and the village. If I’ve posted some of these before I apologise because I have fresh eyes this morning
These show the entrance to the village if coming from Pleven rather than Veliko Tarnovo direction. Note the tarmac road? It doesn’t extend to the track that dissects the grids of houses and land plots. A 4×4 of some sort is going to be a must. I don’t think Dirty Gertie from Gosport aka the transit will cope in the snow.
The original part of the house and the reason we fell in love with it. It has a friendly facade and a gentle ambience. I cannot bear to think of the windows being replaced by double glazing but unless we find a viable and effective method of secondary or tertiary glazing we may have to. Our one promise to ourselves is that any money we have will go first to insulating the house, we don’t want to be cold. Our house in UK is a cold house.
The new addition which is a barn conversion has an immense loft space which we will be robustly insulating in order to deliver on a dream; an immense bedroom not over shadowed by furniture, a retreat. Of course inside the house is a shell, not a wire, plug or tile to be seen.
The entrance from the track with the summer kitchen right opposite the living room window. We’re thinking of knocking through to the next room and having patio doors onto what will become a generous patio area. All the blogs I read talk of the mud and dirt when it rains and the incumbent cleaning required. We had until recently 4 dogs in a 3 bed house with an average garden. The degree of dirt carried from outside to inside was unbelievable. I am taking no chances here, I’m getting pro actively efficient. Less dirt = less cleaning. Please don’t think I’m talking about the odd smudge because we’ve just completed and lived through a complete refurbishment of the house including a fair amount of building and have been dealing with dirt constantly.
It’s difficult to see where the garden ends but it is at the tree line in the distance. If plots are left empty for too long the wood is culled for winter heating. The plot behind us is like this. We are thinking about buying it as it is flat and almost treeless. I suppose it depends on if it is for sale.
The window from the summer kitchen looking out on a dilapidated patio overgrown with grape vines. This building needs some work because Iwant to keep it. Ilia our neighbour is going to repair or rebuild the bread oven in the Spring
Said and aforementioned patio and vines. By this time we’d hacked our way through 6 years of overgrowth!
Our home, in the middle of a village. I wish we were there sooner rather than later.
This is one of our neighbours plot; he’s a market gardener and I shall be making firm friends with him.
I’ve also tried to embed the terrible videos I watched this morning – no judgement because my excitement far out weighed any skill or forethought!