Persabus Millhouse

When I first arrived at Persabus the Millhouse was part of the old farm steadings. Bare, thick stone walls, with a wooden gate across the open doorway. A floor covered in straw and a sturdy, old set of wooden step ladders leading to a hay loft.
Persabus Millhouse was also Moss the sheepdog’s home. Prior to this, it had housed the old threshing mill and bruiser on the farm, used to remove the heads from the corn, before they were rolled into oats.
Moss dog was utterly devoted to her Happy Farmer and was not at all content with sharing his affections when I first arrived at Persabus. That old dog faithfully followed the Happy Farmer’s every move. If he was away for a weekend, she would sit sulking and pinning for him in the cab of his tractor, often refusing to eat, until his return. She was a fantastic sheepdog and loved nothing more than being out on the hill rounding up the flock with her Happy Farmer. With many more sheep on the farm back then, and before quad bikes, the farmer and his dog were a real team, reliant and dependent on each other.
An intelligent girl, as she became older, she would still want to work, but started to take things at her own pace. The Happy Farmer used to think he was the boss, but Moss had other ideas. Latterly, out on the hill, at the farmer’s command, she would race off enthusiastically in the direction of the sheep. However, once she had raced out of sight, over the hill, she would curl up in the sunshine, leaving her master whistling and bellowing away, whilst she took a quick cat nap. The sheep realising Moss dog was taking a quick ‘five’, would suddenly take off in all directions, as the farmer, with his crook, could be seen racing like mad, huffing and sprinting, shouting for his dog, as he tried in vain to round up the flock. Picture a Happy Farmer, steam coming out of his ears, sprinting over the hill, where he would happen upon one very guilty looking Moss dog lazing in the sunshine, with a flock of giggling sheep heading in the opposite direction. Of course, my presence was of no help at all, I was bent double, unable to speak, for laughing. The angrier the farmer got, the funnier it became.
Luckily Moss, on seeing her master, and realising the game was a bogey, would jump once more to her heels and race off to round up the ladies, showing the farmer exactly how it should be done, with the ease of a true pro. Farmer and dog would then escort the sheep along the farm track to the fank where those sheep would be dipped or dosed, clipped or counted. By the end of the day Moss would be forgiven, until the next gathering.
Following our vision for the farm, with a lot of planning and hard work, today, Persabus Millhouse is a beautiful cottage which can be rented on a self-catering or bed and breakfast basis.
The Happy Farmer spent a good year or so on the renovations, completing most of the work himself, along with back up from his brothers for the jobs requiring more manpower. His practicality allowed him to invent ways to overcome the many obstacles he faced. He lacked so much of the necessary equipment needed. He found new ways to lift heavy roof trusses into place. Slates had to be piled neatly into the loader bucket of the tractor and raised as high as the loader would allow, before being man handled up to the next level. The exterior walls were carefully picked and pointed. A new roof erected. The interior was framed, insulated and sheeted. Floors were laid and a staircase fitted. Fixtures and fittings were assembled. Carpets laid, walls painted, and curtains hung. Finally, the garden was fenced in and planted with hebes. A decked patio, complete with benches to relax on, provides an ideal spot to take in the vibrant sunsets of the summer months.
Persabus Millhouse was a labour of love, and with hard work and time, it was transformed from an old farm steading into a bright comfortable cottage. Today it provides a beautiful home for our guests from across the world.
We look forward to offering you a warm welcome to Persabus Millhouse soon.
Until next time…