The hippies and travellers and their homes were replaced with mobile homes in varying condition for which larger rents were levied. The parties all but stopped. Tammy decided to turn the farm into a wedding venue.
Unfortunately, there were more complaints than recommendations. As I understand it, most complaints concerned the state of the farm, particularly the smell of sewage, the dogs and the pervert. Of course, there was no mention of any of those points as the finger of blame was pointed at me. I was told that my living on the corner was what was putting people off. Not wanting to be seen to be a part of the problem, I moved my home to the bottom of the ‘drove’ where I was out of sight.
Before long, even being out of sight wasn’t good enough. The complaints continued to roll in, so, I was told that it was my ‘scrapyard’ that was to blame. I pointed out the several dumped cars and a large box trailer that had appeared leading up to where I had previously been, that they had or had allowed to be parked. None of which had anything to do with me. And in any case, helped to shield me from sight.
Duncan, with the help of Skippy, embarked on some groundworks. Neither clearly had a clue as to what they were doing. As the grey water from the shower cubicles drained into the cess tank, it had to be emptied regularly, which was costly. So, they decided to re-route the said grey water. A digger was hired and a trench dug around the building and onto a tiny bit of land that, though not part of Crasken Farm, was being used as a car park for the Farm. The pipework was then laid and the whole lot backfilled. No ballast! They also punched through an ancient wall en route. The pipework came to an end under the ‘car park’.
Now that the grass on the ‘car park’ had been churned up, Duncan thought it would be easier to just cover up the mess with shingle. Of course, it didn’t take long for the subsidence to start along the route. Solution? Cover with concrete! Badly.
The other side effect was that the new scar stuck out like a sore thumb and was clearly seen from across the valley, where a man by the name of David Martyn spotted it. The problem for Duncan was the fact that this particular man was the landowner of that piece of land! He was not best pleased. Duncan was ordered to repair the damage or buy the land. Duncan chose to buy. He certainly couldn’t afford the true extent of the damage to become known!
Unfortunately, that move would seriously affect me. It was during one of the many visits from Dave Baxter that Tammy appeared at my door to explain how they had discovered that they did not own the ‘car park’ and ‘drove’. I told her that it was common knowledge that those bits of land were not a part of Crasken Farm. She went on to claim that Mr. Martyn was going to remove me with a bulldozer and that she and Duncan had stepped in to save me. They had offered to buy the ‘drove’ along with the ‘car park’ and a strip of land that is a track leading up to the old settlement.
The sale of the land stopped and started, obstacles were levered in wherever possible. Duncan tried to bargain, but David Martyn knew that he was in a much stronger position. Eventually, I was told that the sale had gone through.