Gratitude

Well. I'll bet you all thought I'd got buried under a slab on concrete. In fact, I know that's what you're thinking because some of you have actually expressed surprise on seeing me every now and then. Sorry to burst the proverbial but yes, I am still alive, albeit mainly in the flesh. My mind and soul are most definitely buried under a multi-dimensional tsunami.

To start with, there's the knowledge that we absolutely have to be sleeping in our new house in under three weeks' time. Either that or on the street, and in the current climate (literally) - even bearing in mind my Scouting spirit - I'd prefer the former. Thanks to a few very special friends (see later) this is entirely possible, as long as the drainage is completed this week and I can get in there and clean properly. Again. Oh my goodness, where does the dust come from? I finally understand the gravity of the words: "let's wait till the dust settles" (which, come to think of it, could well be a procrastinator's theme song ...).

But we've come a very long way. It's been just under six months since we broke ground, and we now have - ta daaaa - a house complete with running water, underfloor heating, a heat recovery and ventilation system, a central vacuum system (Rosi, stop hyperventilating!), a much-aligned but rather attractive cooker hood, spectacular worktops, flooring and staircase, built in cupboards, a fridge that arrived shortly before midnight half inside Dave's van from Ramsay and coats and coats and coats of fresh paint. Its chrome ceiling lights complement the chrome handles, switches and sockets; its large windows and glass doors encourage what little light we have at the moment to flood through the lower floor. Upstairs are two gleaming bathrooms and three cosy bedrooms waiting patiently for five Farrows to occupy them. Downstairs is currently a fabulously minimalist dancefloor which I'm tempted to leave that way (thousands of students and Bedouins sit on cushions so why not us; and who needs desks in a study anyway?).

I'm excited, if a little stressed ("little" only because I've just spent a fortnight studiously ignoring the progress of the build while sunning myself in SA), but at the moment more than anything I'm incredibly thankful for all the help we've had. I've already thanked the wonderful Greg Hardie for our beautiful slate roof, Jim Dixon the best electrician ever and James of Central Heating Services for working plumbing, but thanks again to you, to Lowfield and Selfbuild Floors, to Jewson and Build Center and to all the people who've had any hand in the build.

Mostly, though, I want to thank three men. The first is my lovely husband, who has been - mostly - my rock, sane and calm, and who has spent every spare moment pouring concrete, laying cables and slate tiles, painting, fixing, nailing and doing a million other jobs - where did he learn all that stuff? He seems able to turn his hand to anything practical, and I am very thankful not only for his skill but especially for his stamina and commitment to the task.

Secondly, to Marc, a very good friend who also happens to be a skilled handyman. Working alongside you has been an absolute pleasure and I'm very thankful for your ability to just do whatever's needed. I know that many, many times that has not been easy for you but throughout you've been the one I can always rely on to provide a smile and a sage word. Your workmanship is unfaultable and our little house is, therefore, neat and pretty and so so clean.

Thirdly, to Dave, who put his southern Italian life on hold for months to help us out. Dave, your skills are a wonder and we would never ever have been able to get this far without you. It was fascinating watching you work and it was an honour to have you complete task after task with fortitude - especially over those very long and bitter winter months. Hope you can come soon and see your workmanship in its glory!

Lastly, thanks to my handful of readers and all of our family and friends who have been interested and so supportive of us. There have been times when I wanted to crawl in between two joists, wrap myself in insulation and just forget it; those are the times when your kind words - or even the cups of tea so readily offered - have got me through to now. So come, see, enjoy. Cheers!

Pics to follow.