Underley

In April 1990, my girlfriend and I bought a two-bedroomed flat in Kendal. Three months later we were married and the following March, Charlie showed up. By then, she was hardly unexpected, but we still weren't very well prepared. In fairly short order, though, we acquired a cot and a buggy and nappy changing bags and mats and sterilisers and babygrows and toys until it seemed like we had given birth to some kind of clutter magnet. And the flat, we realised, was not big enough.

So when Charlie was six months old we found a cottage in Overtown, just outside Kirkby Lonsdale, and moved there while some friends rented our flat from us. I liked the new cottage: you opened the front door into a little living room with an open fire, there was a nicely sized kitchen with a table, plus three bedrooms and lots of space for all Charlie's stuff. I'd also managed to win the argument in favour of not having a TV - albeit temporarily - and so, all in all, I was very happy there. 

But then, the following February, it turned out that when the landlords had said we could stay as long as we wanted, what they actually meant was while they found a buyer for the cottage. And so we went hunting again, and found the house in the photo: Underley Home Farm. It was a gorgeous old place, with a huge kitchen and a handful of large rooms. The only drawback was that there was no central heating but the agents that managed the estate were keen to get tenants so they acquiesced and we were happy to move in. 

Not that it was ever very warm in the winter as the lovely, original windows barely kept out the wind but we'd wear an extra layer and stoke up the fire and be snug enough. And while we lived there, Hannah, Izzy and Milly were born in quick succession (all of the girls are twenty-three months apart!).

Today, nearly twenty years later, the girls came over to see my folks, who are up to stay, and we all went for a walk, along with Dan and Abi, the Minx and miniMinx, plus Izzy's boyfriend, Michael. We went down to Devil's Bridge, along by the Lune to the Radical Steps, up to Ruskin's View and then along the path, past the rugby club, and onto the Underley Estate. 

It's all a lot smarter now than it was back then but I can still remember it quite clearly. It was much more of a working farm then, so there was more mud and more smells! I remember particularly Izzy's christening party, when we all came back to the house after the service (it was excellent for parties). We played boules along the road next to the barn in the sunshine, although there was a brief shower. In fact, my cousin Jason disappeared for a while and returned a couple of hours later, damp and slightly sun-tanned. It transpired that he'd drunk a little too much too quickly and gone for a walk which ended up with a nap in a field :-)