So here’s a fun little surprise I wasn’t quite expecting when we bought Hedera Cottage: apparently, insuring a 1960s timber frame house is roughly as straightforward as entering a flaming wheelie bin into Crufts.

Now, let’s be clear — the house hasn’t burst into flames, the roof’s still on, and nothing’s collapsed (yet). But try telling that to an insurance company. The moment you say the words timber frame, you can actually hear the premium doubling down the phone. Add in phrases like “no central heating” and “needs full renovation” and you might as well tell them it’s built entirely out of kindling and hopes.

The best bit? One broker very helpfully told me, “Oh yes, we can insure it — but not for what it’s worth, and not for what you paid.” Brilliant. Always reassuring when even the insurance company reckons you’ve made a terrible decision.

Apparently, anything with a bit of wood in its bones is considered high-risk. Not sure how they’ve missed the fact half the country lives in Victorian terraces built out of twigs and stubbornness. Still, Hedera’s a proper wooden soul, so she’s instantly labelled a fire risk, water risk, storm risk, renovation risk… I daresay she’s even a personality risk.

There’s also the small matter of having no central heating. That was greeted with the sort of tone normally reserved for feral animals or people who pronounce the ‘t’ in “butter.” Honestly, it’s like these people have never seen a log burner before.

Anyway, after a fair bit of ringing round, a few raised eyebrows, and at least one bout of nervous laughter, we did eventually get cover. It’s not cheap. It’s not cheerful. But it’s something. And for now, that’ll do.