“Monk’s House lay at the bottom of the village street that winds down from the high road between Lewes and Newhaven and on which nearly all of Rodmell has been built. It was a modest brick and flint dwelling, weather-boarded on the street side, two stories high with a high pitched slate roof; inside, many low small rooms opened one from another: the ground floors were paved with brick, the stairs were narrow with worn treads: there was of course neither bath nor hot water or W.C. Rising behind the house was a profuse and untidy garden, with flint walls and many outhouses, and beyond the garden was an orchard and beyond the orchard the walled churchyard. The more Leonard and Virginia looked at the place, the more they liked it. They tried their best to find faults, but only succeeded in liking it better.”
Quentin Bell Virginia Woolf: A Biography
Strawberries in honor of Monk’s House and VW, and and all the creativity and lifted spirits inspired by houses!
her spirits rose... 
Yes, I still see VW’s little writing studio at the back of Monk’s House in my mind’s eye. And the lovely garden as well.
Hi Carolyn, good to hear from you! – yes, the writing hut out past the apple trees and Leonard’s delphinium!
Wish I had seen this house. And I love to think of Leonard and Virginia trying their best to find faults but loving this house with no bath anyway. Your strawberries are very enticing. No faults there.
Thanks Carol!
My heavens, what a wonderful series! I’m adding all the house books to my list.
I love our house — built by my husband and added on to over the years. Most people think it’s an old mountain house that we refurbished — and that was the plan. It’s quirky and rustic and full of imperfections (like its inhabitants.) And full of books and plants and dogs and cats… country living.
Oh thank you Vicki! Your house first attracted me to your blog – photos of blue couches with lounging puppies like throw pillows in front of a Christmas fire – still can conjure up that image. Wouldn’t mind either sitting on your porch for a glass of iced tea – I picture Elizabeth Goodweather there – and happy.