Our story
New beginnings
Hand-poured in an old coach house in Woodhall Spa, Lincolnshire.
The candles started at the kitchen table, the way these things usually do. A few for the house, a few for friends, then a few too many for that to be the whole story.
After our loss we moved out of the family home and into the coach house. I didn't expect to love it the way I do. It was built in 1901. There are fruit trees in the garden, floors that aren't remotely level, and a creak on the third stair that I refuse to repair. A hundred and twenty-plus years of other people's lives in the walls, and now ours.
It's given us a focus and a future, and something that's given us all time together.
Every candle is poured by hand here, in small batches. Everything chosen carefully and thought about properly. What I'd like is for someone to light one and take half an hour back for themselves.
— Miranda
The family has grown
Without us really noticing. First came Fern. Then came the three runner ducks.
The renovation
Room by Room
We're doing the coach house up room by room. Rewiring, replumbing, insulating, decorating. We stripped it out ourselves and then the builders, electricians and plumbers came in behind us.
The first winter here was the coldest. The heating didn't work and there's no insulation in the walls. I don't think I minded as much as I should have. Honestly, I love all of it. Even the banging of the pipes when I'm brushing my teeth.
The coach house and the lounge are finished. Bedrooms and bathrooms next. Before the plasterboard went up we wrote on the bare wall — the name, the year, a few hearts. At the time it was only an idea. Now it's sealed inside the house, where it'll stay.
