Jane Warren
Ever since David Cameron spent £25k on his, these rustic retreats have become achingly fashionable. But, as JANE WARREN reveals, do it yourself and you can avoid getting fleeced...
LAST MONTH I made a tiny kitchen from a vintage wardrobe that I swapped for a bottle of wine. It’s housed in the corner of the shepherd’s hut I’m building in my woodland garden in Sussex. That’s the beauty of creating a little house – you don’t need much timber to realise your dreams of a bijou lifestyle.
A friend helped me build the base last summer, and since lockdown I’ve been working to complete my obsession in every spare moment while looking after my children, Bea, 15, and 11-year-old Will.
Arguably, it’s kept us all sane. “I’ve just whittled two more curtain poles,” I’ll announce as they come up for air from home schooling.Then we’ll decamp down the leafy path to have a picnic and inspect the latest developments.
I’ve had fun transforming branches scavenged from the neighbouring beech forest into decorative details, and last weekend tiled the surround for my wood-burning stove. Two weeks ago I made a small flip-up table from the left-over top of the wardrobe.
The satisfaction of having an idea, solving a problem, and making something with your own hands cannot be overstated. It imparts a deep sense of contentment and “flow” – that delicious feeling of being fully immersed in an activity that is so good for the soul, especially during a time of personal or international crisis. Making your own shelter, particularly at a time like this, offers emotional security when everything else in the world may feel out of control.
AND I’m not alone in seeking this kind of creative construction therapy. More people have turned to DIY during lockdown than ever before – at one point, John Lewis online sold out of power tools and a survey by Aldermore bank showed that 38 per cent of people have completed some kind of home improvement project in the past 15 weeks.
“It’s given me something to do in lockdown,” says Tink Hallyburton, 50, a research biologist who has been working equally compulsively with her father George, 76, on her shepherd’s hut project at their Scottish smallholding in Perthshire in recent months.
“Being on furlough has enabled us to get the exterior pretty much done,” she declares. Planning for the interior of her hut is now well under way, using a combination of old furniture, packing cases and a stash of link flooring that she swapped for a jar of jam.
“Working with reclaimed material means you sometimes have to be creative to use what you have effectively, and there is a lot of thinking time,” says Tink. “I’ve learned a lot from Dad in the process, as well as having the pleasure of spending time with him.”
Embarking on a shepherd’s hut is the ultimate DIY project, and doing it yourself has another benefit beyond the spiritual: it can save you a small fortune.
Former Prime Minister David Cameron famously spent an estimated £25,000 on his own shepherd’s hut – complete with sheep’s-wool insulation and mod cons including dimmer lights and classic Bakelite switches, in tasteful Farrow & Ball shades Clunch, Old White and Mouse’s Back. He installed it in the back garden of his Cotswold home in 2017 to write his memoirs. It was, he revealed, his wife’s idea: “When
‘Since lockdown, I’ve been working to complete my obsession in every spare moment’
Samantha said we should look for one, I said I’d sort it out.”
Yet Tink by contrast has spent less than £1,000 as she has “shed-loads of stuff on the farm”. Her biggest investment was the £250 she spent on the corrugated iron for the sides of her hut. The materials for mine – including the metal chassis I commissioned from a young local blacksmith and upon which the 11ft x 7ft structure rests – have cost me a little over £4,000. I’ve spent half as much again on electrics and wood-burning stove installation. Fortunately, I was the lucky recipient of a vast amount of free insulation salvaged from an old Scout hut, saving me at least £300. Being able to live in small spaces has always been appealing. I invested in some power tools and set to work 12 months ago.
To make the curving roof spars I bought £40-worth of 10-inch wide scaffolding planks, and used my jig-saw to cut 14 “whale bones” which I affixed to a roof beam.
Measuring the curve of my roof “skeleton” enabled me to order metal sheeting to keep the rain out. After fitting douglas fir boards to the exterior and redwood cladding to the interior, I began upcycling pre-loved items including a vintage French chest of drawers and an old bed frame.
In Morocco I haggled over a hand-painted