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OBSERVATIONS OF AN "EARLY SETTLER"
We moved into Kingsmead in February 2001. The day promised to be bright and we sent off our removal men with a clear map of the route from Welwyn Garden City to Kingsmead. We then set off ourselves, having left our house keys with our Estate Agent for the new owners. The drive up the M1 and A421 passed without incident. We arrived at Kingsmead and were met by friends who had come from Banbury to help us move in. Unfortunately, there was no sight of the two removal vans and all our worldly goods.

We were offered a coffee by the girls in the Sales Office and we took possession of the keys to Number 14. We let ourselves in and checked that the carpets had been laid and the telephone line connected. First problem - no telephone line! we rang BT who assured us that the line had been connected. We suggested they came to see the bare wires hanging from the hole in the wall. A fairly acrimonious conversation ensued, but eventually and grudgingly it was agreed that an engineer would come first thing the next morning. Several hours had passed and still no sign of the removal vans. We started to worry. Eventually they appeared at five o'clock, four hours after they had left Welwyn Garden City. They claimed they had lost the way despite a map and detailed instructions. But this was no time for an argument. It was starting to get dark and there was a flurry of snow. They hurriedly unloaded our furniture, the boxes and the pot plants and left. We were glad to see them go. A brief unpacking of kitchen stuff took place, our friends having brought a casserole for our supper and it was then that we discovered that none of our plates had been packed. The next day I had to drive back to Welwyn Garden City to collect the contents from one of the kitchen cupboards and one or two days later I discovered that all the contents from one of my drawers had been dropped onto the wet drive and put back without telling me. Several items had to be thrown away and the rest washed. We haven't recommended this particular company to anyone else!

The next few days passed in a haze. Boxes had to be unpacked, towel rails had to be screwed onto walls, audio and television aerials had to be installed, we had to decide where to hang pictures and we had to find all the things we had packed and couldn't remember which box they were in. We uncrossed our eyes about a month later and vowed that we would never move again at least, not for about ten years!

This was our garden when we first moved in at the end of February 2001.

It looked rather like a first world war battlefield. Ann Devine, our sales lady, arranged for turf to be laid so it quickly looked better. However, little did we know at the time that we were sitting on impermeable clay and that the garden, along with those of our neighbours, would become waterlogged as soon as it rained. It was summer before we realised that we would need to import top soil before we could grow anything other than roses. When it was wet, the ground was like plasticine; when it was dry, it set solid and cracked like a dried-up river bed. There was a period of about two weeks when the ground was cultivatable!
After two years, a lot of top soil and lots of back-ache we managed to knock the garden into some sort of shape as you can see; although it will take many more years before we can relax totally and just enjoy it, but that is what gardening is all about, isn't it? At least there is colour for a good six months of the year and the grandchildren have somewhere to play. We are lucky in that we have a large garden by modern standards and are not particularly overlooked.
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