Thankyou Elizmar for this study of Allanton which seems, from this shot, to have even less houses than Hutton-but like Hutton, has a speed limit. Why show this image? THere is a very nice property for sale in Allanton (The bit with houses in it) which must be sold for specie to allow the owners to buy the Old Manse in Hutton. So hurry up and get your cheque books at the ready. Apparently the property is featured in today's Scotland on Sunday so hopefully the narrow street (s)-well only a street actually, will be crammed with potential buyers from the start of the working week. We can then get our cash, count it and move on to the Small House in Duns.

Yes, Yes empatient of Eyemouth, if you go round the cormer you will eventually reach the houses.

The wife has pointed out that she does not recognise this scene-nor knows of Carluke -this is said by Elizmar to be the Carluke /Allanton road. Could, she asks, this be another Allanton. According to Flickr it is Allanton the Borders.

Anyhow be careful. The house in question is certainly in Allanton.Not far from the pub. You can't really miss it.

Unless of course you are in the

wrong Allanton



PS It is the wrong Allanton. Further research suggests that this version is in Lanarkshire. Flickr appears to have no images of Allanton proper. So for good ness sake drive to the Borders and find the house of your dreams.

Labels: Old Manse, Selling the Manse, Wrong Allanton

  ¶ 9:49 AM (4) comments

 
DUNS AHOY

On our way;eventually. Like mid-May. Closing date come and gone and we have a buyer. 'Subject to Survey' Otherwise the first bit of the job has been. Now its up to our buyer to find the specie and possibly then the buyer of their house will have to sell theirs. The modern version of the chain gang. And all as Winter breaks-a traditional time for invading Russia not selling houses.

We will miss the walk down to the Whiteadder and a view of the Old Manse from the north on our way back. Or perhaps we won't have to; we can always come back and walk to the river to admire Mr R's 30,000 pheasant chicks, his 5,000 partridge, his 37 Guinea fowl and the crow.But when we walk by next June we can comment sadly:

'No longer ours '

Hopefully

Labels: Duns, Selling the Manse

  ¶ 3:32 PM (3) comments

 
Time Gentlemen, please. Almost

Just when we were beginning to enjoy the feeling of not living in a show house or a set from Gracious Living-the Movie we suddenly have a rather belated viewer-all the way from Fife, squeezing in under the bar before the closing date on Thursday. Apparently keen as we are the only property they are looking at in these 'ere parts, -not the two other Manses, Old and Ould and the latest one on the market-The Manse, Hutton,recently vacated by our last incumbent minister. So it is a frenzy of tidying up around the house,kick stuff under the beds and sofas but sod the garden and the outhouses and hope the wind will disperse the last of the leaves into neat looking piles.

We may need the Fifers as two of the likely bidders have decided not to. Mr Rutherford's yard and its disruptive potential (unlikely as that is) did for the guy with cash and the lack of return on capital investment for the other-obviously building up a property portfolio on arising market being the priority there. So our short list has shrunk somewhat not helped by talk of recession and another Northern Rock type meltdown rumoured hovering in the wings.

So here is an image of the Whiteadder Water at Abbey St Bathans.

What on earth has this to do with selling the Old Manse? I hear a sharp bloggee intellect exclaim.

Nothing.

Nothing at all.

Labels: Abbey St Bathans, Selling the Manse

  ¶ 10:30 AM (0) comments

 
Last Orders Please

Just when you think you have tidied up the house for the last time you have another set of viewers-as we did on Sunday. After a bit you get to recognise the time wasters-roar around, don't ask any questions, either about the house or the locals, but admire your rugs, sniff when you mention that some of the furniture Will be left behind and usually have hyperactive children running riot too near the flimsy Broadband connection. And this category go around the garden with the greatest reluctance as their Gucci loafers soak up the heavy dew from the meadow (aka back lawn). The Sunday bunch were of 'it's 1130 it must be Hutton' variety' They had, like the others, run the gamut of Old and Auld Manses and were on their way to admire a Mc Mansion not too far from Fishwick (I warned them to allow time becuase of the traffic) They were also from the south -being relocated to Scotland by ssome huge multi national-money to burn, it seems, and I suspect it will be the McMansion, with its stables, its pillars and room for 3 Range Rovers which will see the colour of their money. For the horsey fraternity we can offer a carriage house and adjoining stalls, complete with original features including hay troughs and a genuine cobbled floor. I am not sure how many Polo ponies in a String but we can accommodate three horses and up to 6 Shetlands if they don't mind standing on each other*. And we also have an outside loo amongst the nettles-a feature absent from most Mc Mansions.

Closing date-7th November.

Hurry.

The image is not (r) not of our pond but of the Tweed, just down the road.

* Only the Shetlands need to stand on one another-the Polo ponies can have a stall each

Labels: Hutton, Low Flying Merse, McMansions, Selling the Manse

  ¶ 9:50 AM (0) comments

 
We may have had the last of our viewers through the Old Manse and we are now at the stage of setting a closing date. It will be an enormous relief not to have to show strangers around-and however much you feel that they are likely to be rubbernecking time wasters there is still the compulsion to have yet another frantic tidy up-knitting behind sofas, ironing board out of the posh dining room, crumbs swept off the kitchen table, wood burning stove de-ashed and laid for lighting, central heating turned on, socks kicked under bed and loo seats in the closed position.We have no bidets so there is no need to clean out the mouse droppings-a favourite place for mices apparently.But we do need to conceal the humane mouse traps in case would be purchasers get the impression that we are swarming with rodents.Which we may be.

This last lot-viewers not mice-were of the professional well organised sort. 5 houses in one day on the East Coast and Merse (including, yes, two Old Manses and one Ould) She rather fancied the east. He, was a Westerner, so it would be over to the West Coast tomorrow; but she felt that neither of the two properties their would suit her.But anything would be better than their 9 am call: a very bijou des res-listed, lovely garden, in good nick but with extensive views of the Torness Nuclear Power Station. Apparently the owner was quite enthusiastic about living so near to such a source of clean energy and also reassuring-heavily masked men in space suits checked her garden with Geiger counters every year and had (so far) given her the all clear. Mrs Viewer was highly indignant that Frank Knight (or as she put it Not-so-Frank-Knight) had omitted the Power station from the glossy brochure so I had hastily to confess to the adjoining Rutherford Marshalling Yard to the west-and of course our very quiet neighbours in the church grave yard to the south. Neither mentioned in the brochure but as far as the stiffs are concerned but one assumes most people know that Manses and Kirks go together and where there is Kirk there is human dust never mind the odd urn of interred ashes. However neither source of possible pollution seemed to bother Mr and Mrs Viewer and the two tiny viewers who were entranced by the pond, the frogs and the swing.

Were they interested? Who knows but if they are they will need to extract digits as the closing date is about ten days away.

They went off happy enough. Mrs V still muttering about nuclear power stations, dangers thereof,radio activity, brains sizzling etc.

It would be wrong to suggest that she was incandescent. But certainly

gently humming

(Image is of Torness. We looked at a house near there ten years agp and the departing owner said 'I am getting quite fond of it!

Sweet, really.)

PS I wonder if it is the same house.

Labels: Merse, Nuclear power, Selling the Manse

  ¶ 10:02 AM (3) comments

  Interesting viewer around the Old Manse yesterday. She was striking (Not in the Rpyal Mail sense) and somehow familiar: Big Brother? Fantasy Island? Top of the Pops? Crime Watch UK? Antique Road Show? Localish. Based in Eccles or thereabouts. Accompanied by her secretary cum driver? Expensive four wheel drive. Strong southern accent. Spent much of the tour talking on her mobile. (To her agent?) Seemed to like the house but issued no statement on her departure. But did say that 'It was lovely and warm 'An unusual comment-mind you she was wearing a very expensive looking sheep skin designer labelled jacket.

Sincerely meant I am sure but she might not have repeated it to day as it was -0.5C when I left for golf at Duns (MPBUI) It was a balmy 0C when I arrived to find the course closed. We asked someone who just arrived after we did (0845) how long it was likely to be off limits. 'Can't tell. Well after nine. Perhaps Ten. Not worth hanging around. If I was you I'd try later ' My partner and I didn't (hang around, that is) but as I drove off I saw the guy heading purposefully towards the First Tee with his self propelled trolley preceding him. Perish the thought, but was he trying to shorten the queue which would inevitably build up pending the opening of the course? Or was he going to head off regardless;

And didn't want any witnesses?

Labels: Duns Golf, Selling the Manse

  ¶ 11:43 AM (0) comments

  Buy one Video, get a Manse free


'Come in' said Huttonian to the young couple at the door. 'What a nice day for it'. I then went into my familiar routine starting as usual with the kitchen -the view from which, as I explain, persuaded the wife (and therefore me) that this was the house for us.


It was in the master bedroom (stunning views of Mr Rutherford's yard, moulded ceiling, working shutters,traditional Scottish press, en suite down the passage) that the young lady said' Very nice but we came to collect the video. (I had clean forgotten the ancient but working VCR which I had put up for grabs on Berwickshire Freecycle) Oh dear Elderly Moment #67 but in my defence I was expecting a viewer at about the time they came! They were very understanding and asked if they could finish the tour.

The potential purchaser then phoned to say that she was viewing the wrong house (ie got her viewings out of order) but would be along later.

If she does not want the Old Manse there is always the other video

Labels: Selling the Manse

  ¶ 10:10 AM (0) comments

 


Despite the alleged down turn in the property market; despite the run on Northern Rock, potential buyers of 'up-market' pied a terres aka Old Manses seem to be around in some numbers. As I two finger a family 'passing through' Hutton have expressed a wish to look around having 'downloaded the details from the Internet'-or perhaps they are bloggees?

And there also seems no shortage of money looking for a home. One young man from Embra, no family, seems keen to have a week end place 'in the country'-and this is about as much in the country as you can get without turfing the cows out from under a tree on Farmer C's pastures. He seemed impressed and can pay out of ready cash. Admittedly he looked a bit askance at Mr Rutherford's yard over the Western (but not Wailing) wall-it was a Saturday and very quiet. I assured him as that a Mr R lived there with his family it was peaceful at the best of times but he plans to return on working day 'for a listen'. During the week? And he wants a week end retreat!?

The regulars at the Post Office are anxious that the OM should go to a family-to live in-not a second home for well heeled folk who will have no interest in the local community.

Amen to that.

Want an old Manse? Three for sale in this area. One (Georgian) in Chirnside; Posh, nice and Upmarket. And the Auld Manse in Gavinton. Nice but bang on the road. And could you live with the 'Auld'. Might as well call it Dun Preachin. Really there is only one sensible choice

And how many other old Manse's have fairies at the bottom of the garden?

Labels: Hutton, Merse, Selling the Manse

  ¶ 11:03 AM (2) comments

  A bloggee asked if it was not an awful chore to have to post everyday-write something (He carefully omitted to add 'interesting') Does Huttonian lie awake at night fretting about what to write about come the cold grey dreich dawn. Take today. It was a cold, grey, dreich dawn. I could write again about the Pheasants, drab and soaking gazing resentfully into the (comparatively) warm and inviting kitchen. I actually would invite them in to roost by the Raeburn but (a) they are still too timid and (b) they crap a lot. I could go on and on about selling this pile-and I suspect at present rate of progress I will have to go on and on-Blast Northern Rock and his Ditherness, The Gov of the Bank of England. There is also so much, and not much more, one can say about Sir Morrisons.All Human Life is no longer there since the caravanners have followed the swallows to winter quarters. And now that Marks and Sparks have set up shop (no pun intended) the action has anyhow moved elsewhere. Mind you the wife has yet to scrutinise their Green credentials. Are plastic bags thrust at you.; quality and quantity of wrapping, proportion of organic and local produce. So many boxes to tick. Worth a blog any day except when it is hissing down and their car park will still be full of rubber neckers from tout Berwickshire. Then of course the ever green (inappropriate pun not intended) topic of cash strapped landowners wanting to concrete over the best agricultural land north of the Border and build Mc Mansions in every nook and cranny. But on second thoughts

I will take a day off and blog about what there is to blog about, or not. Some other time perhaps.

And leave it at that.
For today anyhow.

Labels: Blogging, Marks and Spencers, McMansions, Selling the Manse, Sir Morrison's

  ¶ 12:02 PM (0) comments

 
Cocky. Your days are numbered

However early one gets up to make the tea in our **** kitchen Cocky, the mendicant Pheasant, often flanked by his hen bidees-near-the-same-bush-in, will be waiting beaks pressed against the glass. And they will demand feeding by stomping up and down looking fan tailed and eager until their breakfast of organically supervised mixed grain has been flung in their general direction.

Today's (rather blurry)image is of Ollie, Cocky's senior consort, strutting off in high dudgeon after Cocky got to the breakfast first and was preventing any of the distaff side getting their share.

The wife is worried that the next owner of the Old Manse will neglect bird welfare and is considering getting the brief to write in various 'burdens' into the legal documentation to do with bird feeding, organic gardening, no window cleaning until the starlings have gone and no closing of the garage door until the swallows have tidied up their nests and flown south(?)-With Global warming they may now head North instead. I fear the problem may be expense. Bad enough to have to raise a mortgage to buy the OM. To keep the birds in the manner the wife has made them accustomed to will require a second facility. Nuts, grain,fat balls, outside loos, special shrubs,plunge baths.Neighbourhood Cat watch. It all costs money and despite the massive foliage which surrounds our garden we all know what does not grow on trees.

Observing one of our potential house buyers watching the mass of birds chomping away outside the kitchen window I saw his trigger finger instinctively tense and curl.

I know the feeling.

But I only shot at rats with the borrowed air rifle.

Honest.

Labels: Cocky, Old Manse, Selling the Manse

  ¶ 11:18 AM (0) comments

  TGIF Lets view a House


Huttonian knew when he woke to a glorious warm windless Autumnal day that scheduled golf at Duns (MPBUI) was doomed. And so it proved. A couple from Embra just had to see the Old Manse. Today. No: Monday nor the weekend would not do. Very pleasant and less than non commital. Seemed to like it. Or perhaps they didn't. Very interested or not at all. Impossible to say. Urgency? Not really explained. They had been looking at possible country houses off and on for several months. But it was a great day for a visit to the countryside.

They were sure about that.

And by the time that they had gone.

So had my game.

I was sad about that.

Labels: Golf, Selling the Manse

  ¶ 5:38 PM (0) comments

 
Yes It's Still For Sale

Huttonian said to the enquiring villager at the Kirk on Sunday. 'But's its been on the market for such a long time' 'Ten days actually'

It seems a long time but we have had two couples over the house-one very keen, the other switched off once they realised that JR's Yard was visible from our bedroom window when the Ash trees had shed their leaves. And the distaff one was uneasy, indeed startled, at the prospect of having an old graveyard north of the house as if graveyards near Old Manses could come a such a surprise. 'Such quiet neighbours' did not seem to offer her much comfort. A third couple had to postpone but will be back and as I post people all the way from the deepest south-Peterborough-are hastening north to arrive on the most stunning Autumnal day you can imagine. Surely one look and a desperate scrabble through the handbag for a well thumbed cheque book or a large suitcase of freshly minted fivers from the boot of the Daimler. When we look out of the kitchen window at miles and miles of countryside-now being ploughed by Farmer C's Massey Ferguson-the woodpile swarming with brown jobs, lesser brown jobs,gleaming finch things,Greater Great Woodpeckers, Pheasants, Collared Doves, Sparrow Hawks (enough birds-Blog-ed)we cannot understand why any prospective buyer fails to say 'Snap'.

Well the Peterborough couple have been and gone. Not much hope there. They made it clear that they were currently living in a very grand house in the Cambridgeshire countryside which, their friends told them, would be sold to the first multi-millionaire through their doors. And they agreed with their friends their problem was to find a house in the frozen north which matched up to their present residence. Mind you we had some features in common. We have working shutters. Of course. Woodburning stove. Yup. Raeburn. So do they.(Aga actually-with four ovens) Working 'servants' bells. Coming out of their ears. Garden stuffed full of fruit;ditto; Outhouses suitable for conversion. Tick that box. But then we started to go down hill. We have an adjoining Kirk-they enjoy a neighbouring Abbey, knocked about a bit by Thomas Cromwell (not the passe Oliver) and a Very Old Rectory. But the killer was in the garden. With great pride I pointed out The Pond. All our own work.

They said they have a pond too.

Well actually its a lake. And it has

a Boat on it.(Which you can only see on clear days)

(My natural rejoinder about our midget submarine, lurking in out Giant Newt infested depths occurred some hours later)

Labels: Merse, Old Manse, Selling the Manse

  ¶ 9:17 AM (1) comments

 



Entre Deux Mers(e)

So we have a new house in Duns. All ours from 10 October as long as we can get the specie to the right place before the right time. But now the hard bit. The Old Manse is on the market and we are living in a brochure-or rather trying to live up to a brochure. We already have had one prospective buyer poking around and another is coming tomorrow. They will already have Knight Frank's puff http://www.knightfrank.co.uk/webuk/flash/search.aspx )_-either the hard copy brochure or scanned the website from where these images have been taken. Advice on the hard sell rings in our ears:

(a) Sun to shine
(b) Garden to look neat and tidy
(ditto house)
(c) Smell of baking bread in Kitchen
(d) Fire blazing in sitting room (in the fireplace, ideally)
(e) Fresh flowers at strategic places.
(f) Match the brochure if possible

Saturday went well-sun on cue especially and as we had only just returned from Norn Iron we had not had the time to make a real mess but as time goes on it will be increasingly difficult to leave the sitting room looking as if HM the Q is expected at any moment and the Dining Room laid for a posh dinner party involving the Lord Lieutenant and two members of Legs and Co. As for the Bedroom. Sleeping in a stage set has never come easy and it gets tiresome to have to make the bed look like exhibit one from MR John Lewis' 'Bridal Collection' as soon as we have vacated our pit.

One small scare was the dumping of the most massive amount of slurry on the old Glebe Field immediately behind the house by the nearer Farmer C. People who have a rather idealised view of living in the countryside sometimes find such aromas challenging. But with a brisk wind from the south nary a waft came our way-doubly fortunate as we had no baking bread on line to mask other odours.

And then of course there is coping with the Wife's profile of the ideal buyer. No Developers need apply. Organic gardening, bird loving, charity supporting, Lib Dem/Green party,environmental huggers, Guardian readers only. And if they come roaring up Kirk Lane in a gas guzzling Beamer or tastefully metallic green Chelsea Tractor they can jolly well go roaring back again. Says she.

The wife is away until tomorrow evening. Fascist developers-Times readers, BMW and Fake Barbours now's your chance.

Carpe Diem

Labels: Hutton, Merse, Selling the Manse

  ¶ 12:53 PM (2) comments