Gary, my Dad Pete and me set off with the car full of tools and garden implements on Saturday morning. The weather was cracking. We had a quick stop off at my favourite blasted/dead tree on the Rothbury junction on the way, as I've had a brainwave to paint a mural on the kitchen wall at Whippet Lodge, and want to incorporate it. God knows when I'm going to fit in doing that, but I'd like to at least start thinking about it!

Note: If you're in or near Rothbury, please call in to the Crown Studio Gallery. It's owned by our lovely Northumbrian Landscape Artist friend Lynda Taylor and her Archaeological Potter (I think that's a decent description) husband Graham. Lynda has a new exhibition - Time and Tide coming up, from the 15th of this month until the end of August. Lynda's ancestor's were explosive merchants, who just happened to have built our house in Durham and the one next door. You're assured of a lovely warm welcome, and in for a treat with Lynda's truly beautiful paintings and prints.

After the usual stops at Cornhill for pasties and Coldstream for other supplies, we were keen to get straight out into the back garden to make the most of the weather. I was thrilled to see we have a Wood Pigeon nesting in a little Elder tree next to the wall. No hedge trimming until they've moved out then. I tried to get a photo, but it's a bit high up and I didn't want to disturb the little family. Mind you, Mamma Pigeon wasn't so caring when she kept flying out with her loud flapping past my head. Nearly put my neck out with fright more than once!

Pete was concentrating on getting some doors that had swollen in the flood we had in winter 2017 to close properly inside, and Gary and me tackled the garden. I felt like crying. We had both been working really hard over the last couple of weeks and were knackered. A cup of strong coffee later, we got strimming and pressure washing. What a disgusting job pressure washing is, and due to the old fashioned layout of the paths and gutters, all of the sludge ran through to Iain and Sandra next door's immaculate garden, so I had to clean that as well. Poor Gary broke the strimmer, it just couldn't handle the job. We ended up having to go into Berwick for a new one and a more powerful mower, ready to use the next day. At least it was an excuse to dump a load of grass at the tip, and we got some bags of gravel for the borders while we were there.

Just as were were about to leave, Sandra from next door asked Gary if he could give Iain a hand shifting a sofa, which they were getting rid of, and Iain wanted to take an axe to it. I think not. Guess who now actually has a sofa in the house after the last one got ruined in the flood a year and a half ago! No more deck chairs! I honestly could have cried with joy, as it just isn't in our budget to buy the one we wanted at the moment. We hadn't had chance to get out mooching up in the Borders for even a second hand one, and we'd have to hire a van if we bought one down in Durham.

When we got back from Berwick, Gary knocked us up some lovely pasta and garlic bread and I went outside to put me new gravel down. We chose purple slate, as it was cheap and the colour looked good with the stone walls of the cottage. This evening's DVD choice: That Peter Kay Thing.

Next morning, Sunday, we were up early, and went for a quick walk around the outskirts of the village to wake ourselves up. Swinton is such a pretty little village, even on a gloomy day, and it was inspirational for me to see the relaxed way everyone does their gardens. Just beautiful.

You may just be able to see on a couple of the above photos of the Kirk, that there are some engravings of a boar with three piglets. This is because the Swinton means 'Swine-ton', and the Swinton coat of arms is that of Clan Swinton, a well known Scottish family, which includes the actress Tilda Swinton. The family was apparently named after the place, but I don't really know a lot about any of that yet.

So what? you might think, but I was intrigued by the boar thing, as the town we live in in Durham, Ferryhill, also has a boar as it's emblem, our very own Brawn of Brancepeth, which I thought was a canny coincidence when I found out. I've always loved the story of the Brawn. Ferryhill has it's very own, if somewhat gruesome, but probably true, fairy tale, and last year that inspired me to write and illustrate a story book. Have a little read about the folk story here:

Now I haven't properly put pen to paper on this yet, and don't want to give too much away, but it's my own spin on the story. As animal loving, anti-hunting vegans, the whole story of posh bloke murders animal and becomes hero is a difficult one for both Gary and me, so I'm coming at it from the viewpoint of the Brawn himself. Gary is going to translate my story into rhyming prose. Beowulf with boars. I bet he wishes he'd never offered to get involved with this now...

Also on my 'I'm in the middle of doing it' list is, also coincidentally, a book called 'The Slaughtered Boar' See the theme here? I don't have a clue why I'm so bloody taken with the bristly buggers. I'm in the character study stages of this, have been for months, but the outline of the story is formed in my head. I'm really excited to get on with this project, but frustrated that I can't as there's just too much else on at the moment, as Gary and I are up to our eyes in Mad Martins and John Duck. All I want to say about it now is that it's got a historical setting, it's based around an obsession, and it was inspired by this illustration I did, which was in turn inspired by I poem I tried to write that came to me in a dream, (I know, I know, sorry) but have shelved as it just wouldn't work properly. The Slaughtered Boar is the name of the pub, and you may notice the picture on the wall.

I'll keep you updated on these projects once I actually get any further with them. In the meantime, back to the Scottish town of pigs...

We got a bit more work done on the Sunday, even though the new strimmer and mower had to be exchanged in Berwick as the strimmer was, well, crap. Didn't even try the mower. Shite. Don't buy cordless, folks. If it sounds too good to be true, it probably is. The new, super strength strimmer for twenty quid extra made all the difference. Oh and we dumped a load more vegetation at the tip and got more gravel.

Just one last thing before we leave Swinton. I think it's important I post a few pictures of the cottage interior here, as I haven't any on this new website, just so you can see where it stands and get a better idea of progress. Here goes. And yes, I WILL post loads of pictures of those doors and every piece of that furniture, as they took fecking ages to stain. Please look at them!!

One good thing to come from all the delays on the cottage, is that it's given us time to think about how we want to let it out to holidaymakers. We had signed up to a high profile holiday cottage letting company, with a fabulous website and great catchment, but with hindsight, I don't think that's for us. Don't get me wrong, they are brilliant, patient and massively helpful, but we don't want to put a hot tub in the garden, a load of decking, or zip-lock beds. We want to offer a unique, relaxing space, in the middle of incredible countryside, particularly aimed at being a creative retreat as it's so quiet. We will be letting it out privately, hopefully mostly by word of mouth to people we know and to friends of friends. It's perfect for artists and photographers year-round, as the area and light is so beautiful no matter what the season, and the views of the Cheviots are incredible. Even the drive up is an inspiring experience in itself. Every twist and turn of the roads shoes you a new Northumbrian or Borders masterpiece, and I'm really not exaggerating. Also there are loads of golf courses around and about, if you're that way inclined, not to mention plenty of places to visit for a day out or a romantic walk. I love it. I think you can tell?

Home time. With Blondie along for the journey.

When we got back on Sunday, I'd brought a load of plants down to re-home and dumped them in the yard, so on Monday, after checking the weather forecast (rain from Tuesday on) I forced myself to do yet another day's slog at our house in Durham. What a soggy, mossy mess. A real test for the new mower and strimmer. Mower, five stars, strimmer, failed at the first hurdle in the front garden, the 'unwanted wild plants' were simply too sturdy-stemmed, and my son Aaron ran out of strimmer line, even though Swinton had been a breeze. No way was I tackling that. Instead, I spent the day sorting the side garden/old orchard/crappy field ready for shifting stuff from the front garden so I can cope with the upkeep. It's a massive job. Here's a few before and afters. Then I will shut my gardening mouth.