we moved to a mill!

At the turn of 2023, I spent a few days in Kintyre to write the essay about A Matter of Life and Death which is included in our new Colour at Work book. One morning, I drove into Southend around the Learside road, and saw a house which was just so lovely that I had to slow down to have a wee look at it.

The house was an old watermill, constructed from the lovely rose and honey-coloured sandstone that is common around these parts. From what I could see from my van, the mill had been been beautifully restored into what appeared to be a most inviting home. The kind of home, that I (a lover of Scotland’s rural vernacular buildings) could only dream about.

A few months later, while we were working on our Davaar book, and spending a lot of time in the area, I spotted that the mill was on the market. I could hardly believe it! Tom and I love Kintyre, and had been talking about eventually moving there. Might we do this sooner rather than later? Might we, in fact, be able to buy this mill? In any context, I don’t think I have ever been so excited to see a property, of any kind. And the mill did not disappoint.

There has been a mill in this location for several centuries. The mill first appears in Kintyre’s documentary record in 1636, and the current building (with its addition of a nineteenth-century kiln) was completed in 1839. Producing all kinds of grain and meal, from animal feed and porridge oats, to the bere and barley with which local distilleries were once supplied, the mill was in operation until the 1950s, at which point it was one of the last two working watermills in Kintyre. Like many such mills in rural Scotland, its internal machinery was removed, and the building abandoned to eventual dereliction. In 2004, when the previous owners purchased it, the roof had long since caved in and the interior was completely ruinous.

It is impossible not to wax lyrical about what the previous owners have accomplished with their thoughtful and careful restoration of this historically significant building. The attention to appropriate and accurate detail is extraordinary, from the new ridge ventilator on the roof to the huge iron wheel, which turns once again, though no longer to grind grain.

Many skilled local craftspeople contributed their expertise to this restoration. And for those involved in the project, bringing new life to this historic building was clearly a genuine labour of love.

Anyway, to cut a long story short, a little over a year since I first saw and fell head over heels for it from the roadside, this labour of love is now a home for me, Tom. . . .

. . . .and the dogs, of course.

We all moved in a few days ago, with assistance from our pals, Ivor and Rob. . . .

. . . who kindly helped with essential furniture shifting and construction, and celebrated our new place with a dram or two.

Outside, in the garden, there are snowdrops and hellebores . . .

. . . and inside, a new home is beginning to bloom as well.

Apart from marrying Tom, I think this might be the most exciting thing I’ve ever done. I still can’t quite believe it.

We moved to a mill!