Finally, we are in! 

In fact, we are snowed in, and have been since Tuesday. It's been an eventful week... 

Monday (moving day) was long, tiring and emotional. We had less than two hours sleep, which didn't help. Our keys were ready by 11.30am, but we were still cleaning the old house until 12.30, then needed a restorative cuppa before heading out to the wilds. The old house was doing its best to make us regret leaving.

Needless to say, the removals men had beaten us to it - they'd unloaded one van into the garage, and driven all the way back to Sheffield and back (an hour each way) to collect the lorry before we arrived. ​

The new house was cold - it's been empty for months, and the heating system was drained before Christmas. Thanks to some clever instructions over the phone from our cheery plumber, I had it working within an hour or so, but it took several days for the heat to warm the old stone walls. 

On Tuesday, the world seemed a little brighter, and we nipped to our two most local towns for supplies, then to the village for a nice cup of tea in our new favourite local cafe. 

On Tuesday afternoon, the snow set in, and we were stuck. 

On Thursday, I attempted to walk a couple of miles to the local village for milk, but had to turn back because I could barely see for the snow blowing in my eyes. A nearby farmer took pity on me and gave me some milk from his cows. He did say this was the worst weather they'd had for years so I'm hoping this is NOT usual for this time of year.

​It was so very windy that the snow had blown off the fields almost completely and formed into strange sculptural drifts, almost like waves. 

Yesterday wasn't so windy, and we did actually make it all the way to the village, although it took us over an hour. The cafe was closed (oh no!) but fortunately the pub was open, so we were able to have a nice cup of tea before heading back up the hill again. 

The people coming to fit all season tyres to our car couldn't get through the snow, and I've had to cancel all work this week as the roads are either impassable or officially closed. On the plus side, it's given us plenty of time to unpack, and we are now settling in nicely and getting into the rhythm of this strange life we've catapulted ourselves into. 

Whatever happens come spring is going to feel like a doddle compared to this. 

Will you join me for a celebratory cup of tea? Our house-buying adventure is back on, as our buyers found a new buyer for their house yesterday. Hooray! 

Of course, we won't be going anywhere before Christmas now, but that's no bad thing, as it gives us another few weeks to save (and to pack). And it means when we move it will be closer to spring, which is no bad thing, as it's pretty grey and bleak at our new house right now. 

(Well, of course, it's grey and bleak here in the city too, but somehow everything is more muddy and cold out in the countryside, which I suppose we'll get used to...)

This is me at our new house a couple of weeks ago in my fabulous blood-and-acid-proof wellies and my posh frock (I had to go to a work function straight after). As you can see, the neighbour's cows have been stomping around and I'm not sure I'd advise camping in this particular field right now.

I was striding about the fields photographing the ID numbers on the telegraph poles (there's a rumour from the solicitor that we may be able to get £5 a year from BT for giving them access to maintain them, and I'm not going to turn my nose up at free dosh). 

I was surprised how many telegraph poles there were - I'd been convinced there was only one. 

This one, in fact. However, it seems I was wrong, and turning my head in the opposite direction I spied this one. 

Oh! And what's this? 

Turns out that contraption is on our land too. Exciting! 

Now is probably a good time to confess that, until last week, I hadn't fully realised the extent of the land we were buying.  I mean, we have the plan, and we've looked on google maps, and on the Ordnance Survey map of course. But the first time we viewed the house the estate agent was late, and we had an appointment to view another house, so we just went inside and round the outbuildings and looked across the fields but didn't really go into them. 

I'd been back a couple of times since then to walk along the public footpaths, but had forgotten the plan of the land both times. 

This time, wearing wellies and armed with the title plan, I had a good look round. 

It seems we're buying quite a lot of mud. The neighbour's cows have been doing an excellent job of keeping the grass down, and have been thoughtfully making little (and large) puddles for us to splash through. At one point I thought I was going to lose a welly, and have a lot of explaining to do when I turned up at work covered in mud (I'm sure it won't be the last time).

Apparently this will be our field too, and those our dry stone walls. I love dry stone walls. I always have (except for a brief period as a teenager, when on a school trip to the Lake District we listed what we thought were the Most Boring Jobs in the World - number one was working in a shoe shop, and number two was building dry stone walls).  

I had a go at building a dry stone wall once - it was like doing an extremely heavy and complicated jigsaw. Fortunately I like jigsaws, and am planning to book myself onto a dry stone walling course as soon as we move.

I'm still not entirely sure what we're going to do with all those fields. Our friends and family are, of course, ready with a series of suggestions from the boring-and-sensible-but-wouldn't-be-allowed-in-a-national-park to the preposterous. I make no apology for not turning our particular corner of the Peak District into a festival site, caravan storage or pet cemetery. 

I think it's far more likely that we'll start with the field closest to the house, plant some veg, and then work outwards as we settle in. I don't want to make too many firm plans in case it all goes wrong... 

So it looks like we'll be spending much of the winter in the city, which I don't really mind, because the sun is shining here and there's a lot less mud. I've been tramping around and about the place and mostly taking photographs of trees. 

Our little garden bird table is attracting quite a few visitors, and now the leaves have all fallen off the lilac, we get quite a good view. This little goldfinch arrived yesterday morning as I was having breakfast. 

There's a robin there at the minute, and a couple of weeks ago (when the leaves were still around) a squirrel made several trips up and down, up and down, burying seeds in the ground. 

We've resigned ourselves to spending one last Christmas in our old house. It's not a bad thing really.  New year, new house. If it all goes to plan of course... 

There's a lot of this going on right now. Sitting in a cosy cafe with a cup of tea and a book, or the crossword, or with friends. 

We are trying to fend off our impatience that we still haven't moved house. Until Thursday, it was officially us causing the delay, and I was getting fed up with hectoring emails from our seller's estate agent, each one spelling my name wrong and containing more exclamation marks than any professional should use in their life, let alone one email. The main delay has been our mortgage - a combination of mistakes by the broker, inefficient communication by the lender, and us buying an unusual house (or rather an unusual number of fields). 

By Thursday this was all finally sorted, and we spent a happy hour and a half with the solicitor, going through the results of the searches (all fine, thank goodness) and signing all our documents. Hooray! 

Our celebration was short-lived. 

Less than twenty four hours later I received an email from our own estate agents, beginning 'Hate to tell you this but...'. Our buyers have put their house back on the market. Their buyers, first timers who had seemed nice enough, had waited until we were all just about ready, and had demanded a large price reduction. 

Our buyers (rightly) said no, and have re-advertised their house. 

Yesterday we were Very Grumpy Indeed. Not much work was done, and swear words were heard. We may have ended the evening (incidentally also our twelfth anniversary) on the sofa with a bottle of vodka.

But today we are more sanguine. The menaces who caused this trouble may change their minds over the weekend when they realise nobody will give in to their bullying tactics. If not, our buyers may find a new buyer very quickly (it only took them a few days the first time). 

We haven't told our sellers yet. This only happened yesterday, and we wanted to take a day or two to think clearly. We're going to measure up at our new house on Monday, so we'll explain then.

I hope they'll wait. They'd be daft not to. The house we're buying is rather rural, with an unwieldy amount of land and a fair bit of damp. It's been empty for six months, and the heating currently isn't working. The chances of them selling to someone else more quickly than our buyers can sell is very slim. 

All fingers are crossed that the pesky first time buyers come crawling back with their tails between their legs having learned a lesson, and we can all proceed as planned. If we have to start again with someone new at the top of the chain (who will need a new mortgage, and new searches), then it seems unlikely we'll be in by Christmas. 

We're trying to look on the bright side. If we lose the house we're trying to buy, yes we'll lose solicitor's fees and the cost of a survey, but we'll have a couple of extra months to save without a mortgage. If we need to find a new house, we can perhaps find one with slightly fewer fields, less damp, and a bigger kitchen (and perhaps a tiny bit cheaper and closer to work). 

In the meantime we're sitting in cafes and crossing our fingers, and I've been off to visit my sister and her brand new dog. Because a new cheery dog and a trip to the seaside make everything better. 

Ah, I'd forgotten this. Waking up at the weekend with nothing to do, nowhere in particular to be. It really is most pleasing.

On Saturday we had visitors, and we wandered to a local park which was hosting part of the local all-city music festival. Our friends were playing with their band, and we just lay on the grass for a while and listened. 

In the evening, we said no to a dinner invitation, and sat at home by ourselves, dozing in front of the tv. Not something we do very often these days, but again, a much needed rest. 

We woke up with nowhere to be, and found ourselves in another cafe with some different friends. And then some other people appeared, and we joined our two sets of friends together (are you keeping track?)

Incidentally, I've been introduced to a new cafe. Not so new really, and I think I've written about it on here before, but this is the favourite haunt of a friend of mine, and I do so love to be introduced to other people's favourite cafes. 

This one has a little back garden with its own flower shop. 

I've already drunk many happy cups of tea here, and can see many more in the future. 

Still no house news. We're waiting for our buyer to accept an offer, and also nervously waiting for our own offer to be accepted on a house that we have fallen for, but that would require far more work than we've ever done in this one. 

I'm not so good at waiting. My mind is filled with 'what if...?' and 'should we...?' and 'would it be completely foolish if we...?'  

Lots of deep breaths (and much tea) required this week. 

How is it the end of April already? Just where does the time go? 

After my energetic cycling escapades, we escaped off up to Northumbria for a bit of a sit down in a house free of paint tins and wood. Our house was cheery and calm and surrounded by a small flock of sheep, who nestled down to sleep each in the shelter of our wall.

We spent a lot of time just sitting in the house. 

We also spent a lot of time pottering around market towns and tea shops, and one day found ourselves in the centre of Britain, where we found the Centre of Britain Sweet Shop, Centre of Britain Post Office, and Centre of Britain Launderette. 

We wandered along Hadrian's Wall for a while too, and pottered about the surrounding countryside. 

I could have happily settled in and stayed in our holiday cottage for a few more weeks, but real life intervened and we had to come home. Still, as my mum always used to say when we were young and complaining about the end of our holidays, if you don't go home, you can't come back again.

Yesterday I hopped on a train and spent the day in York with some lovely folk I used to work with. 

It was a grey day, and you can't tell from my pictures that I was even in York, as they were pretty much all taken inside cafes. 

We had a tiny jigsaw race in an old pub, and I was delighted by these tiny postcard-sized wooden puzzles with their 'whimsy pieces'. Most fetching (and much harder than you'd think). 

We did, of course, venture outside for a while (between cafes), and found ourselves walking up on the city walls. 

I love it up there, but on a Saturday afternoon it's a bit like standing in a queue, everyone shuffling forwards in lines, and with the grey skies it just wasn't very inspiring. We persisted for a while though, and it was good to look out over the city. But eventually we caved in and headed back to another cafe. 

I love days like this, and I don't get them very often. No purpose other than to catch up with friends. No deadline, no particular plans (but not so many people that you end up traipsing trying to find somewhere with a big enough table). Definitely something I should do more of.