The publishers, Anova, have done an amazing job of bringing the book to life (a format like Adrian Mole in the woods, without the geeky teenage angst!). I have always thought that, although descriptiveness is a wonderful thing, a picture paints a thousand words and I have insisted that this whole escapade is heavily plastered with day-to-day images of life in the woods. Why not give it a try?

If any of you are in London on Tuesday the 25th May (this tuesday coming), do please pop into the Prince Albert Pub in Battersea (upstairs)  from 6.30pm onwards (just by Prince Albert Bridge) have a shot or two of my nettle beer and pick up a signed copy of the book from me, myself and I. Apologies for the shameless plugging, but I have since learn’t that as an author…it IS part of the job description!

Hope to see you there!

Nick checks the throne for size / Photo by Nick Weston

The days seem weeks ago and the weeks seem months ago. Things are so hectic down here I don’t know where to begin!

I have just returned from a rather damp day of teaching foraging on the South Downs after 2 nights nestled in the newly roofed treehouse. The last few days have been grand, I have had the fine company of Tom Kevill-Davies a.k.a The Hungry Cyclist, the author of a book I am reading at the moment- and a terrific one at that, check out his blog for an update on his treehouse experience- the first of many!

With work progressing at an obscene pace, it is hard to know what to tell and when.

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Nick completes his massive jigsaw / Photo by Nick Weston

Every hour or so when I’m cursing a drill bit flying into my finger or knocking the funny bone in the elbow so hard that the entire forearm goes numb, I do give myself a reality check: what else would I rather be doing? London seems a million miles away.

This is just a very quick update to show you how far things have come along this week. I have had the pleasure of doing a giant jigsaw puzzle: the joy of recycling wood began to wear thin midweek and I contemplated visiting the local timber merchants for fresh 8’x4’ sheets of ply. At a cost of £20 per sheet, I realised the wood I had cost little more than a bit of extra work.

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Nick lays down some flooring / Photo by Nick Weston

I always knew this project was going to be hard work, it now seems I drastically underestimated just how much! But, I’m truly loving every minute, even manhandling misshapen bits of 18mm ply down to the treehouse is a gleeful experience, I think if everyone’s front door to the workplace looked like mine lined with row upon row of bluebells, then moods would be at a constant high.

Despite having my hands torn to shreds and beginning to look like I’ve had acupuncture from Sweeney Todd, things are moving at a smooth, unfaltering pace. I have had a few mishaps: I am starting to concentrate more on furnishings rather than the house itself (lets face it, decking out a crib with some fly gear is always top of the list…shizzle?). A week ago I decided it was time to build one of the most practical pieces needed for any Treehouse – the Ladder.

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Further information:

• The Treehouse Diaries #4: Up, up & away!
• The Treehouse Diaries #3: Bertha comes alive!
• The Treehouse Diaries #2: The ‘Unit’ Arrives
• The Treehouse Diaries #1: Building ‘The Patch’
• The Treehouse Diaries

Treehouse foundations complete / Photo by Nick Weston

Its amazing what you can achieve with a saw, drill, hammer, ratchet, some ladders, a couple of people to help you out and a large dose of fine British, spring sunshine. I had not been able to take my eye of the thick black lettering, scrawled across Saturday 25th April in my diary: PUT UP TREEHOUSE FOUNDATIONS!

For the past few months my friends and family, especially Clare, have had to endure my constant rambling banter about how I’m going to build a Treehouse and live in it for six months, without seeing any tangible evidence of me holding true to my word. I suspect there have been plenty of raised eyebrows and a lot of “yeah right!” flying about. But now, it all seems so real…so real, I am a little nervous, D-day has arrived and the dream is about to become reality.

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Nick and 'Bangers' / Photo by Nick Weston

Whilst probing the recesses of my mind for the archaeological knowledge stored away during my degree, I seemed to remember it was around 4000BC that the Neolithic kicked in, bringing with it the domestication of animals and crops.

As wonderful and diverse as the wild larder is, I felt it would need the support of a small, yet productive vegetable patch, carbohydrates for one. Burdock roots, dandelion roots and cattails are all very well, but why not have a glut of potatoes too? It would be good to have some crops to fill in the gaps where the wild foods are lacking.  As far as animals are concerned, it would be wonderful to have some pigs and chickens, but I think that would be a step too far and a bridge I will cross later in life. Thus my meat larder will consist primarily of wild cuts, the fish, the birds and the beasts and maybe the insects too.

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Photo from HUNTER-GATHERING: Wild & Fresh Food

For sometime now I have been toying with notion of getting my hands on a P45 and moving to the country in pursuit of a more interesting existence. London is a wonderful place, full of culture, merriment and stabbings, but city dwelling isn’t for everyone and I have come to realise that I am one of those people better suited outside of them.

The timing couldn’t be better, with a recession raping the country and the credit crunch being felt so heavily in town, a move and change in lifestyle could be just the ticket. With little interest in spending the glorious English summer in some sweaty city kitchen cooking for stockbrokers and bankers, exactly the Muppets that got us into this mess in the first place, I made a bold decision and began making plans.

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