Although we couldn't actually go inside the house, because it's deemed too fragile. Here's a link with some photos of the interior.
We did, however, get to have a good fossick about in various barns, sties, stables, etc.
Dru detected two ploughs scored into this old stable door.
I liked the spring rising between a barn and the house and running down the hill - must be murderous in the winter.
Jamie Lake, artist in residence, had set up some light installations, of which the ones mapping the cracks and fissures in the stonework were the most effective. Bristol-based poet Fiona Hamilton also read some of her poems, encapsulating her response to this resonant site, to the loud bleating of sheep. Two of them were translated into Welsh, which was pleasing.
Once restored, the farmhouse is to be a Landmark Trust holiday let for the well-heeled. Dru and I wondered idly what would become of the sheep dip. An ornamental pond, I hazarded. She rather thought it might be turned into a hot tub.