It’s a good source of potassium, nitrogen and magnesium. It also contains trace elements (nutrients that plants require only in small quantities) including iron, manganese, zinc, copper and boron, not always found in other types of fertiliser.
It’s also completely biodegradable and breaks down quickly, perfect for the vegetable beds.
We could see how full of nitrogen the seaweed at the high tide line was – there was a line of nettles growing right out of it!
Seaweed at high tide line, with nettles
We plan to use this precious, free resource in two ways on the croft; as a mulch on our no-dig beds to suppress weeds and fertilise the soil directly, and added to our compost bins to add nutrients to the rotting down mix of green and brown matter.
Yesterday we explored the western side of the peninsula looking for beaches where we could collect, wheelbarrow and load a car trailer with ease. We found two great beaches, both full of seaweed, and both highly accessible.
Tarskavaig beach
We won’t take too much, as the wildlife on beaches rely upon it, but there seems to be plenty for all. Next time we have a storm we’ll bag up a few feed sacks of it from each beach and bring it back to the croft.
I’m sitting in the caravan on the croft sipping a cup of tea and watching the rain pelt the windows. The sea and the mountains have all disappeared and we are completely enveloped in dense, grey cloud.
Tea tea tea
We’ve had three weeks of very heavy rain and high winds to welcome the change of season and remind us that winter is but a blink away.
I honestly don’t mind the rain, and after surviving one highland winter in the high winds I’m much less nervous about the gales. I’ve learned to trust the bags of hardcore and lorry strapping that are holding the caravan down. We may rock a bit in the weather but we haven’t taken off yet..perhaps I shouldn’t speak too soon 😊.
As winter approaches though, the croft is saturated. I dashed out yesterday between rain flurries in my wellies to look at the raised beds, aware that I desperately need to weed and get the autumn garlic into the soil soon.
Rain rain rain
But it will all have to wait a little longer. It’s like a quagmire out there. There’s no fighting this weather; we just have to sit it out and grab the moments of respite when we can to start preparing for winter. At least husband can work in the relative shelter of the house on the plumbing, and is warm and dry as he solders pipes.
The composting situation is well sorted though. We visited a neighbouring croft yesterday after a social media appeal to reduce her horse dung mountain. We filled eight big feed bags with well rotted horse poo and trailered them back to shovel into our compost bins. Amazing stuff.
More trips are likely to be needed – we’ve hardly dented the dung mountain at all.. we’re so lucky to have this source of organic manure nearby. It will do wonders for our soil.
As soon as the rain slackens we’ll dress the beds and mulch the soil ready for overwintering. I’m probably going to put the environmesh back on too so that the kale, beets, parsnips, onions and garlic that will remain in the beds over winter can enjoy a bit of protection from the wind. It makes a big difference to the battering that they take.
The stags have been roaring on the hillsides for a few nights now. They do that in October as they compete for dominance and gather their hinds for the winter. It’s quite an uncanny, primal noise, and they’re clearly pretty close by. Next year, deer fencing is a must, before the trees go in.
For now, I’m embracing autumn and the imminence of winter. Tea, books by the fire, clear starry skies and warming drams of homemade atholl brose in the evenings to keep the weather at bay. Yep , the oats and whisky for our first bottle of the season are steeping as we speak…
My mother used to use this phrase a lot. She was born of a generation that valued thriftiness, and it’s a mantra that I wish I’d taken up more seriously years ago.
My generation was, in contrast, one of consumption, and I shudder now as I think back to the waste I created without a second thought over the years.
I’ve always tried not to waste food, but it’s only really been in recent years that I’ve started really repurposing other things rather than just throwing them out.
Many of my seedlings are being grown on in yoghurt pots, old fruit juice cartons and mushroom trays that I would have previously discarded without a second thought.
Composting is taking care of most of our vegetable-based kitchen waste, and I’m repairing clothes now that I have time to do so rather than endlessly buying new. I feel better for it, I honestly do.
The langoustine feast left us with an enormous pile of empty shells, heads and claws. Janni, our neighbour, passed on a brilliant Icelandic recipe for langoustine bisque which she warned was smelly to cook, but quite delicious.
The stock making process was indeed stinky. I opened all the doors and windows in the caravan but the smell was still strong hours later!
The resulting bisque was gorgeous with a deep, richly intense flavour. There are no artistic Instagram swirls of cream here, I’m afraid, just bowls of soup with crusty homemade spelt sourdough bread given to us by another neighbour.
Janni made wild garlic aioli to go with hers, but I hadn’t been out harvesting yet.
As we sat eating our bisque watching another pink sunset over the mountains, I reflected that dinner tonight was largely made out of leftovers.
On a couple of dry days this week husband built and put up a compost bin.
I say a compost bin, it’s more a super deluxe compost city. The worms in this complex will be living in ultimate compost style, the Des Res of Decomposition, the Mansion of Manure, the Penthouse of Poo, our very own Vault of Black Gold! 😉
With three bays, removable front slats for easier inspection and turning, and a roof (yet to come) to protect from the worst of the elements, I’m so pleased with how it’s turned out.
We have a tonne of organic, peat free bought compost with which we’ll start the beds off this year, and we’ll layer the homegrown stuff with what’s left of this.
I’ve found a local lady with donkeys on her croft who is happy to give us bags of straw and donkey poo, and Angus, our village crofter keeps cows, so I think maybe a conversation there could be had too.
That and applications of seaweed from the local shoreline as well as vegetable waste and croft scythings and I’m really hopeful that it will be successful.
With a bit of luck from the soil gods this time next year we’ll be digging in our very own black gold.. 😊
Ravencroft Skye 