Roughly six and a half metres by five, the rectangular shape survives as a slight ridge, barely thirty centimetres high, sitting in the north-north-eastern quarter of a ringfort on a gentle rise above undulating pasture. The ringfort itself, a circular enclosure of the kind commonly built as a defended farmstead during the early medieval period, predates the house by an unknown span of centuries, or possibly does not predate it at all. That uncertainty is part of what makes the site quietly absorbing: the house could be medieval, post-medieval, or later still, and nobody yet knows.

What the archaeology preserves is modest but precise. The walls, if walls they were, are now just a bank about eighty centimetres wide, running east-south-east to west-north-west and north-north-east to south-south-west, defining a footprint that would have felt intimate even by the standards of vernacular rural building. Someone chose to build, or to shelter, within the curve of an already ancient enclosure, perhaps because the earthwork offered a ready windbreak, perhaps because the slightly elevated ground gave a clear view to the south-east across the fields below. That view, noted as extensive, remains one of the few things about the site that has not diminished with time.