Abandoned

We noticed on Facebook a house in the village that was for sale and in a moment of madness or fantasy called the estate agent to have a look. I'd recognised it immediately, as the barn door was on the list for my door series-- although looking back I don't seem to have blipped it.

Well. It hasn't been lived in for 50 years -- although curiously it looks as if the inhabitants upped and left just minutes ago, with boxes of bills and business cards on the table, pans neatly arrayed in the cupboard, all the best crockery on shelves, bedclothes on the beds, even plastic flowers on the mantelpiece. A bit like freespiral's Irish houses.

This room is the best in the house, with its lovely encaustic tiles and surprisingly voluptuous curtains (see extra) given the general poverty of everything else. There's no bathroom; just a boxed-off toilet in a corner of the barn (which still has a stall for the horse) and a sink in the corridor next to the front door. The single bedroom is just big enough for a double bed, nothing else, and another bedroom had been improvised in the loft with some plasterboard.

In the loft, the estate agent advised me to move in case any of the many loose tiles fell from the roof onto my head, and it was around this time that we decided the project was not for us. It could be made into a lovely house, by spending about twice the purchase price on renovations.

Later, a delivery of lamb from a local farm prompted a barbecue in the garden, followed by lounging around listening to birdsong; to my pleasure I glimpsed a red squirrel leaping from branch to branch, the first I've seen for years.