Growing beds

We had a dry, sunny, spring-like day this week and we decided to build a hugelkutur bed alongside the wooden raised beds that we’d built last month.

These are permaculture growing beds built over a core of wood or brash, with turf, soil and compost layers. They allow plants to grow where the soil would otherwise be too shallow.

The theory is that the central core of wood slowly decomposes, releasing nutrients into the bed. We will be adding to it annually with top-dressing to keep its depth consistent. This is a no-dig bed.

We built a small 4m bed, starting with a cardboard base to try and suppress the rush growth, and dragged up dead branches from the copse at the western edge of the croft to form the core.

We added layers of soil, compost and bark chip mulch until we had something about 60 cm deep. Some hugelkutur beds are much taller than this, like giant earth Toblerones, but as an experiment we figured that this was big enough.

We’ve planted up the rhubarb crowns in it and I’m eyeing the rest of the bed up for potatoes and perhaps kale over the coming weeks.

We’ll need to lay bark chip paths between the beds as it’s already starting to look like the Somme with all the wheelbarrow and wellie work recently churning up the mud.

If this works I can see more of these being constructed later in the year.

It’s a simple idea and reminds me very much of the lazybeds or runrigs on the hillside above the croft where previous generations of farmers scraped enough soil into mounds to grow food.

These ancient forms of land tenure are said to predate the crofting system, and it appeals to me that this more modern system of permaculture is really the same thing.

Herbage and Seeds

The urge to grow new things is very strong. We have no greenhouse or polytunnel yet, so I’ve set up a small space in one of the rooms in the caravan to start my seeds off. Luckily this room still has the old carpet down so it doesn’t matter if it gets grubby.

Balanced somewhat precariously on old cardboard boxes and a heat mat, and wedged between boxes of spare clothes and the hoover, are my first trays of seedlings. The blue wands of wonder are moved around to those plants that seem to need them most. It’s not exactly a professional set up, but it will do!

I’ve tried to choose plant varieties carefully to ensure that they’re hardy for our exposed site, but this first year is going to be very much an experiment.

I know that I’ve probably started too early for these northern altitudes, but I was itching to start. If they get too leggy I’ll just have to re-sow.

I have garlic ready to plant out. We eat lots of that, and I have more to plant directly into the soil once the beds are ready.

I have seed potatoes chitting ready for planting in the coming weeks. A local crofter recommended two varieties that I’m going to be trying, with good flavour but also good blight resistance.

I also have beetroot, chard, leeks, sorrel, parsley (it germinated! Hallelujah!) and Sutherland kale sown and just starting to grow.

Husband has been working on the construction for our compost bays too, which we need to start as soon as possible. The price of good compost in the quantities we will need is eye-watering, and I’d much rather we made our own.

I’ve also just finished reading this book. A total inspiration, a really interesting story and full of very practical advice about growing abundantly, organically and using no-dig principals. It’s just come out, so do source a copy if you get the chance.

Gaelic singers, fires and venison

Our first island Christmas.

Last night we attended an outdoor meal with friends around a fire, with local musicians and Gaelic singers. They sang traditional carols but also songs that we didn’t know, hauntingly beautiful in the open air and the darkness of the night.

It was a cold night but we honestly didn’t feel it. Such a lovely introduction to Christmas here.

We returned home smelling of woodsmoke and with heads full of new melodies and happy memories.

This morning, Christmas Day, and it was a day alone for us. The wind howled around the caravan and we sat in front of the fire with big socks on and shared a zoom call with the boys in Manchester.

We ate venison and drank red wine and enjoyed the feeling of peacefulness and nothing that we absolutely had to do.

It’s been a very unusal and quiet Christmas, but a good one for all that. It’s made us remember what’s important and has made us look forward to next year’s celebration with family (and a proper kitchen!) all the more.

Merry Christmas to you all. From the fireside of the caravan on the windswept hillside of the croft I’m sending you all good wishes for health and happiness, wherever you are.

A spiky start

With the house build we’ve had little time for the croft tree plans or vegetable bed preparation beyond the most basic of plans for zoning and starting to think about grant applications for the trees and deer fencing.

Having said all of that, whilst our days are taken up with working in the house I’ve started on the croft in the smallest of ways. It just felt necessary to do something.

We’re planning for a berry bed, and also edible hedges.

To this end I’ve just received the first dozen or so cuttings of japanese red gooseberry, jostaberry and green currants, and have stuck them in a barrel of soil positioned next to the caravan to root up ready to be planted out into beds late next year.

If the deer don’t eat them (and you’d think that the thorns on the gooseberries would be enough of a deterrent, or am I deluding myself?) this should give them a bit of an early start.

These will be followed with raspberry, honeyberry, cloudberry, black currants, blueberry and strawberries early next year. And maybe the start of herb pots in the spring for the herb beds. Once we have some windbreaks in place.

We have also picked up some willow whips from a neighbours’ prunings, and as an experiment we’re going to plant them in the exposed boggy bottom of the croft over the next few days.

We’re treating these as sacrificial trees, as a test. We’ve had conflicting local reports about the need for and the effectiveness of deer fencing. It will be interesting to see whether these young trees get decimated and whether we have to wait for a further year to fully deer fence the croft before we can attempt sensibly to plant any young trees further at all.

A slow and spiky start. But it’s a start.

Atholl Brose

It’s that time of year again. I’ve made homemade Atholl Brose.

A wee glass of this in the evening to warm us up is a necessity, I think.

Whisky, honey, oats and cream. Lasts for a week in the fridge – if you can make it last that long 😊.

Recipe here for anyone that fancies giving it a go. Note I only use a half bottle of whisky, just a blended one too, and it’s delicious.

https://foodanddrink.scotsman.com/drink/how-to-make-your-very-own-atholl-brose/

Wintering

It snowed last night.

When we awoke it was to sleet and snow pounding the roof and windows of the caravan, and it had settled on the hills. The morning was very cold. It took all of our willpower to leave the warmth of our bed and stagger through to the kitchen to make hot coffee.

We ate breakfast watching the snow swirl around the caravan, and both decided it might not be a bad idea to head out to do our weekly food shop now in case it got any worse.

We already have food stocks of oatmeal, pasta, tinned goods and flour, even within the very limited storage capacity we have within the static. I think it’s just prudent to keep long-life food available in case roads become impassable or we got ill. You never know. And whilst the weather is doing this it just reinforces the stocking up instinct further.

Whilst husband is working in the house filling gaps between the SIP panels in our desire to have the house as close to passive house standards as possible, I’m doing most of the food preparation. It’s just what we can both best do to contribute to pushing this build forward at this point in time.

Food has become reduced to simple homemade soups, curries, stews and occasional bakes. Tonight, for example, I’m making a cottage pie. Yesterday was bean and vegetable soup. Nothing fancy, just home made food that fills us up and is filled with nourishing ingredients.

I’m also making Athol Brose this evening. A small, sweet, creamy whisky based treat that we’ll take a glass of before bed each night.

Absolutely essential preparation for wintering in my book. 😊

Powered by Flapjacks

I have many half packets of nuts and dried fruits that travelled with us from London, and which I don’t really have space for in this little caravan kitchen.

Oatmeal, dried apricots, pecans.. So I made flapjacks.

I’m not going to pretend that these are healthy with the amount of butter and golden syrup that they contain, which is more than the oatmeal could ever compensate for!

But as a pick-me-up, elevenses, or snack when energy levels are getting a bit low, they hit the spot.

Powered by flapjacks.

When it rains…

When it rains here, it really rains.

The croft feels like a giant sponge, the grass squelchy underfoot as it tries its best to absorb the huge quantity of water being thrown at it from the sky.

Yes, that’s horizontal rain.

When it’s like this, no waterproofs that I’ve ever come across will keep you dry for long. It’s best to retreat indoors for a cup of tea and wait it out.

We have pools of rainwater everywhere. The burn, which normally trickles gently through the hills at the back of the croft, has become a foaming torrent of water tumbling its way to the sea.

This is an older video from September, with the burn in medium flow. Now it’s about twice as full, I just haven’t been brave enough to make my way down there for a more recent picture.

Wish I could send you some, Green Goddess 🌿.

Highland Coos next door

In our village there lives a crofter called Angus who keeps Highland cows. These are small, long-horned, shaggy-coated cows of neolithic origin, the archetypal Scottish cow.

Hardy and good natured, as well as very intelligent, these cows are escape artists. Often the call goes out around the village that there is a cow in the road, and it’s invariably one belonging to Angus.

This week Angus has been grazing them in the top field which is adjacent to our croft. One morning we tugged back the curtains in the static to find three large cows staring back at us from a few metres away on the other side of the hedge.

They are curious beasts. As the day progressed, whenever they spotted us out on the croft they’d migrate towards us, shaggy heads shaking and mooing, in anticipation of a feed, I suspect.

I’m very taken by them. Much more so than with the sheep.

Snowy hills & soul food

The weather turned very cold last night, down to an overnight temperature of a few degrees. We awoke to snow on the high peaks around us and an internal caravan temperature of four degrees C.

To say that getting out of the warmth of the quilt was a struggle this morning would be an understatement..

Slowly building supplies are arriving for the next stage of the house build.

We need to block gaps and start the insulating foil on the walls before we start the underfloor heating, but we await more foil, staples and other materials. With any luck everything will arrive in the next week and we can get started.

In the meantime, without a working oven, I’m relying on our local stores to bake delicious, savoury, carb-rich loveliness to keep us motivated in the form of bacon and cheese scones.

We need extra energy in this cold to stay warm and working. I don’t feel guilty at all for the large bowl of tomato soup and two of these beauties warmed and spread with butter for supper.

Soul food.