June was a very busy and quite an emotional month. This had been the case for mainly for my Mum and Dad but also, for all the family as well.
Finally, after several stressful past few months they moved from their bungalow in Caldecote just outside Cambridge, a place they had called home since 1981.

The bungalow they had moved from was a place we built ourselves from scratch. When I say from scratch I mean we did everything ourselves from designing the bungalow, clearing the land to doing the bricklaying, plastering, tiling the roof etc etc. The only thing my Dad didn’t do was the electrics. Just as well really, as he would of caused as massive power disaster! Most of you have seen the Christmas lights fiasco from the film ‘Christmas Vacation’ well, things would have been a lot worse than this, if we had allowed Dad to do the electrics. The Cold War would have ended quite differently – if you get what I mean!

We moved to Caldecote when I was only eleven and I got to help out with all aspects of the building work. It’s an n experience that not many get to do. There are those who buy a plot of land, design the house and then get the builders in, we didn’t. Mainly it was because we was doing it all on a shoestring but I was glad it was that way. When you see every brick being laid and every screw, nail, roof tile and window frame being fitted, you do become even more emotionaly attached to the building. Admittedly there was plenty of blood sweat and tears and a lot of bad language, there was a permanent blue haze around our house at the time (and that was just from my Mum).

So when my wife and I helped them move recently, there wasn’t just a few tears from my parents. Time moves on though and we all left with a lot of happy memories and a few sad ones as well.

On the day of the move and after we had loaded the large removal van they had rented, my wife and I crammed my car full of some of their stuff and headed off before my Dad caused havoc on the road.  Their new bungalow is situated in the beautiful village of Welney in Norfolk; deep in the fens. A place I have driven through on many ocassion but this was the first time I had been to the new house. I was struck immediatley on how wonderful the front garden was and before my parents turned up I thought I would investigate further. God knows what the neighbours thought, when they saw this strange looking tattooed wally walking around.

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As you can see on the day of the move it was glorious weather and the garden really did shine.

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Everywhere you look in the garden you have numerous hidden gems. It is a garden that pulls into every border and nook and cranny knowing that something will be happily hidden and getting on with its on little thing.

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As well as some of the little beauties you have to go looking for are some of the more obvious plantings that can be seen from afar. With the front and back gardens being reasonably long this works really well. The garden can be enjoyed by sitting at it one end but you have to go and explore it to see it fully; this includes climbing into the borders.

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The locals have been very busy to.

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So there you go from a bungalow that was designed and built by my Dad, with a little help and a lot of annoyance from the rest of the family; to a beautiful little bungalow in the Fens. The bungalow it’s self is a right little charmer but it is the garden that will be full of surprises for many seasons to come.

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There is one thing I must not forget to mention, or otherwise I’ll never hear the end of it and that is my Dad has been designing and building again; in the new garden this time. Not a building, the last one burned down due to an electrical failiure (only kidding) but a raised pond. There is a certain amount of electrical work, which is a little worrying but again built by himself. He is calling it the piano due to it’s shape and I think it fits very well into the garden.

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Another local.