Equinox, a Fedge and Sun Gardens

I’ve been sitting in our quiet place for most of the day in glorious sunshine, taking in the fact that I signed the change of ownership form for 94–96 Walcot Street on Friday.

That sentence feels quite huge written down, so I’m not entirely sure what to do with it yet. It’s one of those moments that probably deserves a bit of celebration — something fizzy perhaps — but with everything going on in the world and the general sense of nervousness in the air, it feels like one to hold quietly for now. It also marks what is going to be quite a significant shift.

I’ve been running at full tilt for most of my life and, since losing my Dad last year — and with Ellie Burton so brilliantly holding The Grapes — the past year has really been about looking after myself and properly understanding the importance of slowing down. So this next project, which gets closer by the day, has to be intentionally managed so that it is full of joy, sustainable financially, mentally and physically, and enhances my life rather than becoming something that creates more stress.

In every other sense, it has been a very full week. The garden at the house where I spend time with the boys has finally been whipped back into shape, with a solid three hours spent pressure washing — something I’ve always found strangely satisfying. With at least another hour to go, I would be there right now finishing it off if I wasn’t currently waiting for a lorry to arrive with the trees for the community orchard.

The tractor has already been in to clear the site and we’ve got a work day tomorrow to prepare the ground ahead of next week’s big planting day, when some of our oldest and dearest friends will also be in town. The delivery was supposed to arrive late morning. It is now nearly two. There is still no sign of it.

So instead, on this rather lovely Spring Equinox afternoon, while Jonny plants a mixed hedgerow on the other side, I’ve been sorting through lengths of willow and starting to weave them — as best I can — into a fedge. For anyone unfamiliar, it’s a cross between a fence and a hedge, essentially a living barrier. I made one years ago to screen a rather hideous oil tank at our old pub in the countryside, but they can get a bit unruly if they’re not managed, so it didn’t survive. It’s nice to know that this one is wanted and will be looked after.

Last night ran a little later than intended thanks to a fairly committed Netflix-and-chill session with Bridgerton, which I have to say might be the best one yet. This morning has been productive in a slightly more frustrating way, largely thanks to the Indian e-visa website, which appears to have been designed sometime in the early 2000s and then left entirely untouched ever since. Mine is technically done, although currently rejected because the photo apparently isn’t up to standard — no small feat when you’re only allowed 1MB of data — so I’ll be tackling that again later when I sort out the boys.

Over the last few days I’ve also been teaching myself the basics of cyanotype printing, which I’ve been wanting to explore for a while and which will almost certainly find its way into Makery. I love that the prints are sometimes called sun gardens — I already have a place in mind for the first series. There’s something about the combination of light, time and chance that feels very in tune with everything else at the moment, and I’m looking forward to experimenting with natural dyes — turmeric, nettles, tea, coffee, rust.

For a bit more inspiration on the paper side of things, I’ve also booked a ticket for the Grand Fair at the On Paper Festival in June, hosted by our new neighbours at Meticulous Ink. It feels like another small step into the world this new space will sit within. Makery may even be up and running by then — it’s all getting very real now. I should probably start finding a few people to collaborate with.

If you’re someone who likes experimenting within what I’ve started thinking of as the four pillars — Paper & Book, Print & Surface, Fibre & Cloth, or Materials & Form — do get in touch.

So, onward into the weekend. It’s our staff party on Sunday, with some very good friends of The Grapes stepping in to keep everything running smoothly while we eat burgers in town and let our hair down at Lane 7. I may have to ask them what it is we actually do well, as an email has just landed from the council asking us to showcase ourselves as employers — and at this precise moment, my mind is completely blank.

Somewhere in the middle of all this though — paperwork signed, gardens brought back to life, visa battles ongoing, new skills quietly begun — is this very real sense that things are shifting again.

Not dramatically.

Just steadily.