Everything people ask before signing up, in one place.
The whole tool, for one project: budget with honest brackets, plan and schedule, cashflow, the trade pipeline, materials and the decision log, plus one full run of the kick-off wizard, so the AI drafts your first plan before you've paid a penny. After that you get 20 assistant actions a month, enough to chat to your project, have a quote read or a price checked when it matters, and notice what you'd use if it weren't metered. The £7 removes the meter. No trial clock, and free stays free.
Your project is encrypted, EU-hosted, and readable by your account and by nobody else unless you say so. Never sold, never used for adverts, deleted when you say so. There are two ways it reaches anyone else, and you control both. You can invite someone to look at a project, choosing which parts they see and whether costs are included; they can comment but cannot change anything, and removing them cuts off their access there and then. And you can share what a job actually cost, anonymously, so everyone's estimates get better: the type of job, its size, the region and the rate, never your name, address or project. Both are off until you switch them on.
It's a well-briefed assistant, not an oracle. It prices jobs for your area within sensible brackets, spots what a quote suspiciously fails to mention, and turns "sort out the bathroom" into a task list. You stay the project manager; it just makes you a faster, better-informed one. Nothing it says replaces a structural engineer, and it will tell you so itself. Read the AI disclaimer
Anything with a browser. The laptop for the big planning session, the phone in the builders' merchant queue. The whole household sees the same live project.
No. That's rather the point. You bring the idea and the opinions; the AI asks the scoping questions a professional would, proposes the budget lines you'd forget, and drafts the task list. You stay in charge of every decision. It just makes sure the structure underneath is sound. And under the bonnet it's project-agnostic, so when you one day plan something that isn't a house or garden, it'll cope.
It knows what the public records say, which is not the same thing and we are careful about the difference. Give it your postcode and house number or name and it reads the planning registers for that spot: conservation areas, listed buildings, protected trees, flood zones, national landscapes. It shows you what it found with a link to the entry, and it tells you plainly which registers it could not reach on the day, because "we found nothing" and "we could not ask" are opposite things. It then reads what your neighbours applied for: how many were granted, how long a decision took, and the conditions that come up most. Whether your particular job needs an application still turns on size and siting and what has been built before, none of which is on any register, so it points you at the question rather than answering it. Your council answers it, for free, in writing. It costs none of your assistant allowance.
A fair bit is already here: sharing the project with your partner, builder or client (you decide who sees the money), line-by-line comments, weekly briefings that email you what matters, quote reading from a photo or PDF, a full check of the quote or proposal you've been sent before you commit, your site checked against the public planning registers, a home-screen app for your phone, and a Professional plan for firms that run projects for clients. Still to come: draft quantities read straight off your architect's drawings, a photo walk-round that becomes a snag list, a priced change log for the while-we're-at-its, drafted chasing emails, and guides for the common jobs. The full list, kept honest, is here.
We did. It was going fine until the second structural surprise, the fourth revised quote and the schedule slipping into a second year. A spreadsheet records a renovation; it doesn't run one. If yours is coping, honestly, keep it. Ours is exported to CSV whenever you fancy comparing notes.