Skip to main content

Working on sunshine

Freeeee electricity! 

No, seriously.  This guy came and knocked on the door one day, and I don't usually pay any more attention to random strangers trying to sell me something at the door than you probably do, but I guess he must have said "free" enough times to penetrate my consciousness, so I found myself agreeing to have someone check our house's suitability for solar panels.  And another guy turned up, and measured; and another one, and we signed; and a few more, and put up scaffolding and panels and meter boxes and cable; and suddenly, if we're careful, we can avoid paying for any electricity during daylight hours, because it's all generated right up there above our heads.


Of course, we have the British government to thank for this, which probably means we're paying for it somewhere along the line.  The Department for Energy and Climate Change (presumably it's actually against climate change rather than for it, although you never know) has mandated a wonderful thing called a feed-in tariff, which means the power companies have to pay you for any electricity you produce by environmentally friendly means.  A few years ago, they paid quite a lot, which meant that lots of companies jumped into the gold mine, which predictably means that the rate is now quite a lot lower.

But there are still a few companies around that reckon they can make money by renting your roof (technically, the space just above your roof, which sounds like the most dodgy thing you ever heard, but presumably avoids any difficulties associated with separating the roof from the house), putting photovoltaic panels on it and raking in the feed-in tariff cash.  As an incentive to you to rent out that precious layer of fresh air, they not only install the whole lot for free, but you also get to use as much of that photovoltaic power as you want.  That bloke who knocked on our front door was from a company called A Shade Greener, so that is who owns the sun-absorbing sheets that now adorn our roof.

The panels have only been up there a month, but so far, so good (she says cautiously).  All the installation happened with remarkably little fuss.  We have experienced the enjoyable sensation of seeing our mains electricity meter at a standstill, and we're trying to make the most of the diminishing daylight (October wasn't the best time to start on solar, was it?)

Of course it helps that I'm around during the day.  I can do washing and ironing in the morning, put something in the oven in the afternoon, and maybe even flick the electric fire on if it's cold.  It might be harder to reap the benefits if you worked all day, especially this time of year.  The panels' output seems quite variable - according to the figures we are generating anything from 14 kWh per day to zero, so perhaps I'd better check the weather forecast before slow-roasting a pork joint!  It'll take a little longer to work out exactly how much we're saving, but with no up-front costs, every little bit is a bonus.

Disclaimer: A Shade Greener is entirely unaware that I am writing this post, and have not offered me any money to do so.  They do offer a referral bonus, so if I've made you wonder about contacting them, let me know first and we might both get some cash.  Or you can just come over one sunny day and do your ironing.


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Mr White Watson of Bakewell

Once upon a time, back in 1795 or so, lived a man who was always asking questions.  The kind of questions like, "Why is glass transparent?" or "Why do fruit trees grow better in that place than in this place?" or "What does the earth look like underneath the surface?"  This last question was one that he was particularly interested in, and he went so far as to work out what the rock layers looked like where he lived, and draw little pictures of them.  Now he was a marble sculptor by trade (as well as fossil hunter, mineral seller, and a few other things) so he thought it would be even better to make his little pictures in stone.  That way he could represent the layers using the actual rocks they were composed of.  Over the course of his lifetime he made almost 100 of these tablets, as he called them. Then he died.  And no one else was quite as interested in all those rocks and minerals as he was.  His collection was sold off, bit by bit, and the table...

Laid-back Lille and Bustling Brussels

After a night in a tiny AirBnB in Canterbury , where there were chocolates on the table and artwork on every inch of the walls, we boarded a ferry with an absolute minimum of fuss, enjoyed a smooth crossing of the channel, and were deposited in the decidedly unscenic surroundings of the port of Dunkirk two hours later. Once we got past the cranes and shipping containers, though, the countryside was flat but pleasant. We stopped at a small town called Cassel, reached by cobbled roads winding up a hill. On the summit was an old windmill and a topograph telling you the distances to various improbable places; St Omer may have been visible in the haze, but Manchester was surely over the horizon.  In Lille, we found our apartment, unpacked the luggage (one rucksack apiece), and set out to find food. Our first choice was fully booked, so we embarked on that kind of aimless wandering where everyone is hungry and no one wants to actually choose a restaurant. We reached a Lebanese place call...

Canterbury Cathedral

We were booking a trip to France, and I persuaded the family that it was madness to drive four hours to Dover and get straight on the ferry. "We should definitely stay overnight somewhere," I said. "Oh look, Canterbury is very handy - just twenty minutes from Dover." Of course, my suggestion was not influenced in the slightest by the fact that Canterbury contains England's most famous cathedral. On the way down, we stretched our legs on Dunstable Downs, an area of chalk grassland owned by the National Trust. I was pleased to spot a scarlet pimpernel for my 100 Plants Challenge . We also enjoyed watching gliders ascending and descending. We turned onto the M25 and made our way through busy traffic to the Dartford Crossing. This is one of those mythical points on the UK road network, like Scotch Corner and Watford Gap: the name familiar from traffic reports on the radio; the reality - for someone who grew up west of London - a hazy blur of imagination. It turns ou...