An Imported American Kit House

In June 1997, at the age of 27, I bought a half acre garden on a hill down a lane near a bluebell wood in West Sussex, the county of my birth. It was home to a 1930s chalet bungalow that was ripe for replacement. Breathtaking views stretched for 30 miles.

I first saw the plot in April, 10 weeks before it was due to be auctioned unless previously sold. Several developers had apparently walked away because of the cost of developing on a hill, but I was determined to make this view my own. Borrowing to the hilt on a stage release mortgage and using my mothers property and my London flat as collaterol (necessary because the plot came with no planning permission), my £100,000 offer was accepted and my solicitor immediately arranged a lock out contract. It took the full 10 weeks for various title issues to be resolved but we just beat the deadline. The plot was mine and now I had to work to realise its potential.

Having designed contemporary loft interiors, I wanted a say in the entire construction of the new house. To paraphrase Le Corbusier, I wanted to define my own machine for living, complete with split mezzanine levels, arched windows and a large timber deck.

It was the March 1997 edition of H&R that had galvanised me into looking for land seriously. It contained a small news item on an American company, Deck House & Acorn, who create stunning, architect designed, cedar-clad post and beam houses. Further research was unconventional - I wrote a feature on their system for the newspaper where I work.

Deck Houses export manager Jim Cram impressed me with his enthusiasm and knowledge. He was to go the extra mile at every stage of dream, design and supply. To begin with, he asked me to forget cost and write an essay about my perfect house; how I conceived the space, how I lived my life. At the time I was single and seeking to create an inspiring weekend retreat.

I commissioned a survey of the site and, at Jim's suggestion, annotated it with photographs to allow Doug Govan, chief architect, to appreciate the demands of the sloping site. Deck House pride themselves on creating houses that mesh perfectly with each location, looking as if they have grown out of the soil, and Doug produced my dream. His solution was a custom design using their Acorn system which allows a more traditional exterior. It was cut into the hill with multiple split levels, enabling the high Cathedral ceilings but also ensuring a more understated elevation onto the lane.

The planners were initially sceptical, so I contacted development consultant, Roger Hutton, anglocised the plans for example indulgence suite became master bedroom - and converted them from Imperial to metric. Roger also put together an environmental appraisal proving there was no local vernacular and demonstrating that the footprint of the proposed replacement dwelling was not significantly larger than the house we planned to replace, the planners largest concern.

Meanwhile, emails to America continued. Flexibility was the key. One day I faxed Jim a sketch of a walk-in shower room inspired by the work of designer Alidad; Jim suggested a skylight and updated the CAD files. I also logged into the customer service area of the Deck House website and upgraded to solid oak joinery.

In August 1998 I met my future husband Willem. As a Kiwi he is entirely familiar with the concept of self-build as well as timber construction and was captivated by the plans. In December we were engaged, a month before planning permission was granted. The next six months were taken up arranging our August wedding and sourcing quotes for what had now become the construction of our marital home. We became concerned after a simple core sample proved inconclusive and were forced to blow £2,000 on five deep bore holes into the clay. For an awful moment it looked as if we would need piled foundations at an extra cost of £20,000. Our wedding present to ourselves was a $1,000 share in a shipwreck salvage - we'd hoped that if they found the sunken treasure we might buy some furniture; now it seemed we might have no house to put it in. Fortunately an affordable reinforced raft with trenchfill foundations was specified instead.

Demolition and construction started in October 1999 and coincided with the start of the kit manufacture in the States. Filming also began for a one hour documentary in the new series of Channel 4s Grand Designs, to be broadcast in the Spring.

On 15 November, after nearly three years of planning and determination, our new home came rolling up the frosty lane after its 10 day ocean voyage. Here was 28 tonnes of potential house, its component parts - including nearly 80 panels with argon filled windows pre-installed, oak staircases, cedar cladding, thousands of galvanised nails, decking and wood stain - packed tightly into two 40ft containers. It took our breath away to break the seal and smell the wood.

Jim had arranged for Peter King, an American trainer, to come to the UK to demonstrate the system. He worked closely with Tom Baker, a dedicated UK carpenter, who was to faithfully nurse the project to completion. On day one, the kitchen, dining room and two of the tallest 27ft panels in the great space were framed. By the time Peter left 18 days later, the main ridge beam and half the roof was on. It was incredible watching the house take shape so rapidly. Each day bought a new spatial experience.

The house was weathertight by the start of the new millennium. After the underfloor heating system was in place, we became increasingly insistent that the interior finishes - the surface against which we would live - would reflect the structural quality of the building. We arranged to borrow a final £20,000.

The presence of the TV cameras certainly helped galvanise us all into action and the documentary will provide a timeless record. The special construction resulted in some teething problems, and the main contractor did lose money, but to his credit he stuck with the job.

We remain stunned by the beauty and solidity of our marital home. It is full of light and visual drama and friends often comment on the feeling of serenity it seems to induce. It is a house that works in every way. We intend to own it for the rest of our lives.

Jane Warren is a senior feature writer for the Daily Express.