How hard can a zero-waste renovation really be?

So. We’re now five years into this zero-waste, eco, greener malarky – the one with no single use plastic, no bin, second-hand everything, a flying ban, plant-based diet, yada yada yada.

But it’s only now that we’re hitting the biggest challenge. My mother-in-law’s carpet. Or more specifically, renovating the in-laws old house. You see, we’ve just taken on their farm up on Exmoor and have set about converting what has been a fairly conventional set-up into a large agroforestry site and a big chunk of new broadleaf woodland.

My husband’s family has been here since the 1740s, at least. So no pressure – at all – for this townie to make it work. But that’s maybe the subject for another column on another day. It’s the next big step on the eco ride for us, without doubt, but we’ve already hit a snag.

Not the planting-100,000-trees-over-the-next-three-years bit, that’s bound to be an absolute walk in the park. No, we’re struggling with the making-our-‘new’-house-into-our-kind-of-home bit.

Let’s be very clear, the most environmentally responsible thing to do would be to do nothing at all, to keep it as it is, maintain it as carefully and minimally as possible and use as few new resources as possible in the process.

But when we brazenly launched ourselves into this zero-waste, carbon-footprint-counting life, I didn’t bank on coming up against such a... style challenge.

I cannot cope with that carpet for the rest of my life. Or, frankly, the rest of the week. I’ve already had a peek under it and, miracle of miracles, there’s a pristine slate floor under there. Happy days. Not least because it means that’s one less thing to source.

Obviously, buoyed by such a discovery, I immediately started charging about peeling strips of textured wallpaper willy-nilly, knocking on walls and lifting corners of ancient lino like Kirsty Allsopp on speed.

But that was only a displacement activity to avoid the big question. We won’t compromise on sourcing what we need to update this place with second-hand items and sustainable materials. Don’t get me started on non-toxic paint, for example.

But how the hell do you renovate a home without producing any waste? We’ve done up a house before – years before we changed the way we approached all this stuff. Even then, and on a tight budget that meant doing the bare minimum, it just seemed to be a massive game of switching one pile of rubble, and pipes and wires, and plastic-encased everything for a slightly cleaner version of the same stuff.

Watching the skip pile up with landfill-destined stuff was alarming.

So now what? Because I’ve watched the Grand Designs where the homeowner is labelled an eco-warrior for installing a single solar panel and grumbled at the TV for the full hour about greenwashing. But honestly I don’t know where to start. Or even, really, if I should.

I’m going to start with that 1970s carpet – a headache in itself. And I don’t just mean the nausea-inducing brown swirliness of it.

The underlay is the easy bit, because it isn’t underlay at all. In admirable make-do style, it’s sheet after sheet of the Daily Mail, which will be swiftly retired to the recycling bin – the bits that haven’t rotted in situ at least.

As for the main event, reusing it somewhere on the farm (which still sounds very weird in my city-girl head – talk about imposter syndrome) would make the most sense.

But I’m not sure what it’s made of, so the idea of using it in a veg patch or to line a pond – like a bunch of earnest, homesteading-style websites casually suggest – doesn’t sound like a great idea from a pollutant-leaching perspective if nothing else. This thing is not 100 per cent wool, I can tell you that for nothing. And it’s probably liberally sprayed with fire retardant too. I don’t need that stuff anywhere near the acres of immaculate organic veggies I’m going to get round to growing any day now.

Some retailers offer a take-back service, so if you’re facing a similar predicament, it’s worth getting in touch with them if your old carpet or rug isn’t in good enough condition to sell or give away. And some councils will recycle them. There could also be animal shelters nearby that may find a use for it (alongside old towels and sheets – just phone them first to check what they need).

None of which seem to be a goer over here, unfortunately. I’m starting to daydream about building it into the walls of some sort of ambitious earth-shelter-Wendy-house effort. Because we’ve got so much time on our hands right now.

Or, God help me, leaving it where it is for now.