Tag: caravan living

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The cold has come

In the race to get into the house before the highland winter really bit, we’re down to the wire now.

The weather over the last few days has been much colder as the winds have veered to the north east, and snow is forecast.

We are still at least a week away from moving in. Husband is trying to fit a toilet, sink and shower so that we have basic facilities in place, but it’s slow going. We have water to the upstairs bathroom now, we just need the fittings in place!

Mornings in the caravan are painful now. Temperatures drop to a few degrees centigrade overnight and even with the gas fire on full blast the caravan doesn’t reach more than sixteen degrees centigrade all day. I have dug out my fingerless gloves and thermals.

When it’s like this I retreat to the house and sit in the warmth of the bedroom whilst husband gets on with the plumbing. I can’t unpack anything whilst it’s still a building site, but I can sit and imagine. The solar gain from our big windows, combined with the underfloor heating are very efficient, and it’s warm!

Sunshiny day. But cold.

I dream of hot showers and drying off in a warm room without having to do the shivering dance to race into clothes before anything freezes.

Not long now.

I popped into the polycrub earlier this morning to see how things were faring. The temperature gauge recorded that it had dropped to 0.5C in there last night, but everything seems fine. The kale is looking perky, the slugs are having a bean feast with my pak choi, and the beetroot is looking pretty bulletproof.

I am still awed by the miracle of my winter lettuces.

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The Truffle Diaries – incarceration

Dear Diary,

This is day two of my incarceration in this place. My people have left the hapless hound and I in the care of these people for two weeks.

Us in the Time Before

This place that I am imprisoned in lacks basic comforts, despite us being used to caravan space whilst our people build their own home, and I am sorely tried by the lack of high roosting places from which to pounce.

All available high shelf space seems to be full of books, scrabble boards and other such fripperies, all of which are in my way.

The female moved her teapot and seed box reluctantly yesterday to free up a degree of shelf space for me, and I shall of course now never use it.

I have gone through my stand-offish phase and I am pleased to report that the temporary carers are starting to soften up nicely. A few days of lurking under the bed and perching on the edge of the duvet ready to take flight at the slightest movement from them have them nicely under control.

I am not asleep but perched, ready to pounce

Phase two of my plan is now underway. The female seemed helplessly pleased to see me join them for breakfast today, and let me lick a smear of butter off her toast plate, so it will be but days until I have them exactly where I want them.

Not on the bed with Mr Crabby

The hapless hound just frolics with them and offers them his love and his disgusting Mr Crabby toy without thought. The fool. He does not make them work for it.

I shall post when I can. I hope that they will not find these scratchings for some time.

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Chutnification

Last year a local friend made and gave us a jar of something called tomato kasundi. I’d never heard of it before. It’s a spicy, hot tomato chutney, rich with tumeric, mustard, ginger, nigella seeds, and chillies. I thought it was absolutely delicious and I badgered her for the recipe.

Assembling my weapons

I had been hoping to wait for the house kitchen to be operational before I tried anything like making chutney again. It’s a messy business with lots of mincing, grinding spices and chopping, and the caravan doesn’t really lend itself easily to anything needing cooking space.

But we had tomatoes, onions and chillies to use, and I was keen not to waste them.

Underway

Off I went. An hour into the process and I’d peeled, cored and chopped apples, onions, tomatoes, garlic and ginger and was almost ready to start cooking.

The cooking process is simplicity itself – just throw into a pan and simmer for an hour. The caravan very quickly smelled like a vinegar factory and I hurriedly opened as many windows as possible before I choked us both to death.

Sterilising the jars in the tiny oven was fun, but just possible.

Eight jars filled

The chutney’s now ladled into jars, and once fully cooled I’ll label them up and put them away for a few weeks for the flavours to mellow. If they make it through the taste test at that point some may become Christmas presents to local friends who I know are up for a bit of spice in their lives.

The recipe is here for anyone who would like to try making it https://tastecooking.com/recipes/tomato-kasundi/

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Polycrub – winter vegetables

I’ve slowly been clearing the polycrub of pots of spent summer produce, the tomatoes, beans and squash plants all now cropped and done. The remaining green tomatoes are coming indoors to be made into chutney any day soon.

Winter crops in tubs

The winter sowings are largely in and have been growing like weeds. I planted winter lettuce and pak choi – too closely together, it seems, as I was short of tubs – expecting slow growth and plenty of time to pot them on once everything else was cleared.

But their rapid growth has taken me aback and we’ve been cropping lettuce and rocket for weeks now trying to thin it all out. They’re just about under control again.

The late August sowings of carrots have done really well. I tried growing a few tubs of Real Seeds French heritage carrots to see what would thrive. They’ve all grown well, but our favourite is a variety called d’Esigny which is a small, blunt tipped carrot with an incredible sweetness of flavour.

Yesterdays harvest with D’Esigny carrots

I shall fill tubs with this variety next year so that we have plenty, and succession-sow so that they ripen every few weeks for staggered consumption. I don’t think they’re a storing carrot, but that’s fine by us as they’re so delicious that they wouldn’t last anyway.

Carrots in tubs, dill, kale

The winter vegetables that have been planted up in the polycrub are purple sprouting broccoli, kale, winter lettuce, pak choi, tatsoi, rocket, carrots, beetroot, parsley, coriander and dill (not sure that dill will make it through winter). Let’s see what survives!

The nights are drawing in now, with a nip in the air and the fire in the caravan going on most evenings to keep the temperature comfortable. I wrap up in a blanket to watch films in the evening as the temperature drops. The electric blanket has gone back onto the bed.

The nights are properly dark again – which seems so strange after a summer of light. It’s awe-inspiring to look up and see the stars once again in clear, inky black skies. The clarity here with no light pollution is remarkable.

Autumn is my favourite season.

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Stormy days

Rain is lashing down in torrents from a leaden grey sky as I write. There’s ice in it too, and a stiff north westerly wind to drive it home.

From the caravan

The badly fitting, single glazed windows of the caravan don’t seem to provide much protection against this weather as I peer out into the gloom. I’m well wrapped up with three layers, including thermals, and I’m still chilly.

We’ve had an incredible run of storms so far this year, one right upon the coat tails of the previous one. Storms Corrie, Dudley, Eunice and Franklin have rolled over the island in the last six weeks in rapid succession, bringing 80 mph winds, hail and snow with little respite in between.

We’ve had very disturbed sleep this past month as the worst of the winds seem to come after dark. When they start, the caravan rocks and shudders as if it’s alive, straining against the lorry straps that lash it down like a wounded animal.

The noise of the hailstorms is deafening. It’s impossible to sleep through. It’s as if someone is emptying buckets of marbles into a tin bath on your head. Even burrowing further under the warmth of the duvet doesn’t dull the noise.

Image Francis Yeats

I bake. I make bread and cakes to warm and sustain us. I make soups and stews and sweet, eggy puddings and crumbles.

Brioche buns. Just because.

I venture out in the small, quiet pockets of calm between the storms and wonder at the crofts capacity to hold water. Everything is sodden, soaked.

I wear many layers. Recently I’ve taken to wearing my fingerless gloves in the caravan during the day to keep my hands warm. Tea has become an important, warming ritual in the afternoons, hands wrapped around the comforting heat of the mug.

Spring is coming, I tell myself. It’s coming.

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Sushi & storms

February is well into its stride, and despite relatively mild temperatures, the storms just keep coming. We’ve got gale warnings again for next week, and most evenings the caravan is rocking away like a bucking bronco here on the side of our windswept croft.

We’ve learned never to overfill mugs of tea and to hold onto things as we move from room to room. Craziness!

Using my lovely Christmas gifted Borja Moronto jugs for soy sauce

So what’s a girl to do whilst the weather is stopping her getting out on the croft? She makes sushi. Of course she does.

Sushi rolls awaiting slicing

I haven’t made sushi at home for many years. We used to eat it a lot in London where Japanese food outlets were good and readily available.

Not feeling confident that I could get sushi grade fresh fish I decided to err on the side of caution and use cooked or smoked fish instead of raw. In this case tuna mayo, smoked salmon, cooked prawns and smoked mackerel, all from my normal supermarket shop. I managed to get wasabi, nori and even cooked crispy onions for coating some of the rolls.

Crispy onions – I could eat these by the spoonful

The biggest challenge in the tiny caravan kitchen was making room to assemble the rolls. It took a bit of shuffling and manoeuvring, and was a much fiddlier process than in a spacious kitchen with lots of worktop space.

I won’t go into detail here, but let’s just say that any flat surface was fair game (toaster, I thank you) and that it was inelegant in the extreme.

But amazingly they worked. And they tasted great.

Next time I may try making vegetarian sushi. I could imagine that using roasted butternut squash, avocado, cucumber, sweet potato and peppers would work just as well as these fish based fillings.

Never let fear of failure or lack of space stop you trying something new. You can usually always find a way.

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Plastering, wiring, ducting & kebabs

Now is a really busy time for the build. We have two guys (the two Dereks) busily and speedily installing battens and erecting plasterboard panels, with husband wiring and ducting alongside them.

It means long days and not much in the way of breaks. He’s shattered when he collapses in front of the fire each evening. A good tiredness, I think – one born of a long days manual labour and visible progress, but certainly tiredness. We’re neither of us as young as we were!

The best I can do is provide tea and food as it’s needed, and finalise the many remaining decisions on bathroom and kitchen finishes from the caravan.

When I’m not browsing tile sites and bathroom fittings catalogues, or calling Home Energy Scotland for advice, I spend much of each day making flatbreads, cake, quiches, stews and soups.

My latest attempt at urban food is kebabs! Sliced leftover roast lamb, shredded red cabbage, garlic and mint yoghurt, harissa paste and baked soft flatbreads. When you don’t have a takeaway on the island, you make them yourself. Probably much healthier too.

I’m not even pretending that the pear frangipane tart was anything other than an indulgence…we need yummy things right now.

I’m also reading this. An excellent book, if slightly terrifying. It’s about the disappearance of insects due to pollution, pesticides, chemical runoff, changes in farming practices and climate change, and is written very accessibly and compellingly. Dave Goulson is well qualified to write about this, being a Professor of Biology, an expert on insect ecology and an Ambassador for the UKs Wildlife Trusts. Get a copy if you can.

So progress on the build is steady as we move through the highland winter. I’m starting to think about seeds and have ordered seed potatoes, onion sets and garlic. We’re still eating red cabbage and kale from the croft, at least what the deer haven’t eaten.

Soon, now. Spring is coming. Not long now.

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Fuelled by Tunnocks

Watching a film recently, cosied up in the caravan on a cold winters evening, I couldn’t help but notice that there were over 15 minutes of film credits at the end of the footage.

It got me thinking how complex things have become in life (as well as how every single person involved in the film in any capacity now gets a mention).

It also made me smile when I thought of what the credits reel would look like if our house build and croft regeneration were a film. I’m saving up most of the honourable mentions for my long suffering husband, but there is one outlier that I think also deserves a shout-out.

Tunnocks wafer biscuits.

There is a caramel wafer biscuit made in Glasgow, Scotland, a part of daily life here and every bit as Scottish as porridge, haggis and single malt. It’s just called Tunnocks locally.

Tunnocks is an institution. I always have a packet of them in to fuel the day with a strong cup of tea.

The plasterers shun the dark chocolate variety as too sophisticated for their tastes, and go for the milk chocolate ones with their tea and two sugars every time.

Husband likes the dark chocolate ones best.

I think he’d smile at being thought dangerously sophisticated…😊😘.

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Autumn gales

Winds on the island can be severe. We arrived here a year ago in the teeth of Storm Aiden, and almost a year later to the day here we are again with the autumn gales upon us.

This is not a photo of a stormy shoreline

We are a bit more seasoned this time around. I know now that the house is unlikely to blow down, and that the caravan is equally unlikely to sail down the hillside, tethered as it is to four large tonne bags of hardcore.

Hardcore bag tethered to caravan

However, knowledge doesn’t make it any less dramatic. Yesterday evening as we went to bed the noise of the rain and the hail on the metal roof of the caravan was deafening. Once the hail flurry had passed the sound of the wind whistling through the lorry strap tethers took over. The caravan also rocked vigorously as the wind fought to lift it, only to be slapped back down with the counterweight of the hardcore bags.

One on each corner …

All in all, a bit difficult to sleep. It was like being in a washing machine at times. It’s testament to our familiarity with it now that we somehow managed to drift off and got a reasonably good nights sleep.

Winter is almost upon us. Get the hot chocolate in and dig out those big jumpers!

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Soup weather

It all started with a big paper bag of chestnut mushrooms. Perfectly in season, brown, earthy and fresh. Smelling of autumn. That, and a glance out of the caravan window at the rain convinced me that it was definitely soup weather.

Sautéed mushrooms

Much as I like a bowl of Heinz mushroom soup as a quick, comforting lunch, a homemade soup is really in another league and is well worthwhile the small effort that it takes.

Mushrooms, chopped sweet chestnuts, garlic, fresh parsley and tarragon are the mainstays of this soup. A slosh of cream or creme fraiche finishes it. It’s warming and delicious, and cooks up in less than thirty minutes.

Mushroom & sweet chestnut soup

As winter approaches I make soup much more often. There’s usually a pot of soup simmering on the stove most days in this weather. Soups are so versatile, and can be made cheaply from the simplest of ingredients.

Amongst our personal favourites are mushroom and chestnut, fresh chicken, winter vegetable, butternut and sweet potato, leek and potato, Cullen skink and lentil soups. Not having a blender here in the caravan, all of our soups are left “au-naturel” and somehow feel all the more of a meal for that.

Served up with warm cheese scones, or good crusty sourdough bread, soups are definitely the food of autumn.