You asked about winter
From time to time, I get asked what the house is like in winter, does it get cold and other questions about ‘real-life’ on the island. So, now and then over the winter, I thought I’d post some random thoughts about such things, starting today (Tuesday), with my early morning observations the house so far this winter.
As you’ll see from the photos, today is a stay-at-home day, for me at least. Neil has gone out to brave the weather, take a walk, and hopefully call into the post office on the way back to see if anything new came in on the Blue Star boat over the weekend. Me? I’m staying close to the heater that’s close to my desk. I’ve just had a shower and made the two-meter sprint from bathroom to the relative warmth of the bedroom to get dressed, and that’s enough exercise for one day.
I say ‘warmth’… At this time of year, we open the bedroom window every morning to alleviate the condensation that gathers on the glass overnight. If we don’t, the room soon smells of damp, and the walls gradually change colour, particularly in the corners. The window offers a lovely view up the lane, more so now some of the trees have been pollarded, but it doesn’t let in any sunlight. In fact, we hardly see any of that in the house over the winter. The courtyard shutters are closed to stop the rain and cold coming in, and that wall is about the only one that gets any sun.
The summer is a different matter of course, when the sun’s higher and the offices roast as they are basically concrete blocks. The house mainly faces north, with the courtyard facing south. The office rooms are on the east side of our place, with windows to the north and the east end buffets the neighbour’s garden wall. The kitchen and bedroom windows face west, so are fine for late afternoon in the summer, but not so good in the winter. It’s mainly the bathroom that suffers between November and March, as does anyone who uses it. It’s a kind of concrete afterthought into the courtyard with a window (north), and opens directly into the kitchen. So, when things are boiling on the stove, and clouds of condensation are billowing, it’s a case of opening the bathroom door and window and letting the clouds roll out. At least our bathroom, unlike many, is inside.
Later in the winter, it’s a case of wiping the black growth from the bathroom ceiling, airing the kitchen cupboards as the backs are now falling prey to the damp and don’t always smell very nice, keeping the bedroom aired in the mornings, trying to warm it in the evenings, and hardly seeing daylight at all as there are curtains, duvets and towels at the windows to keep the heat in and the rain out. The only room with a wall-to-wall carpet is my office, and even then there’s a six-inch gap all the way around, and the room is above the sterna, a currently empty water chamber willed with cold air.
Still, I’m not complaining, as I love the winter and the challenges it brings; typing in fingerless gloves, worrying about the electricity bill, the celebrations after a rainstorm when the bathroom ceiling hasn’t leaked and hanging the washing to dry indoors for three days at a time. It’s fun. It’s like camping out in the yUK in summer, and this morning, it was 14 degrees at seven o’clock, so it’s not even winter-cold yet.
