Tag: island living

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Salad days

Another significant milestone. Our first salad from the croft!

For you rampant food producers out there with your polytunnels, greenhouses and fertile growing beds this is going to seem a bit of a damp squib, but we’ve just cropped our first bowl of salad from the croft and I’m doing my happy dance!

Salad leaves

It’s a mix of endive, red lettuce, red veined sorrel, Uncle Bert’s kale, mint and beetroot leaves. All grown organically outdoors from seed here on the croft.

Other things are growing too in these long, light filled days of summer. I can see a few purple heads of sprouting broccoli emerging, and the potatoes will be ready in the next few weeks.

Parsley grown from seed

The leeks have been a big fail – they’re still tiny and very slow growing. Kales, cabbage, garlic, beetroot, potatoes, herbs, and salad leaves have all grown well. The carrots and parsnips are small yet but time will tell. The globe artichokes are tiny plants, a few leaves apiece, but they seem to be surviving. I’m hoping that they’ll muscle-up and come into their own next year. The berry bushes are establishing. The borage and comfrey are flowering.

Wonderful comfrey

I’m just relieved that it hasn’t all been some monstrous failure. We’ve had one meal from the croft at least!

The key learning so far is exposure. We knew it, but just didn’t have the time to do it. We need to get windbreaks up and hedging in this autumn before the main growing season next year.

Small milestones on our journey. Forgive a woman’s unseemly crowing.

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Hot, hot, hot

The weather here on the island has been very hot over the past week. The caravan has suddenly transformed from fridge to oven..

The temperature gauge inside recorded 26 degrees centigrade yesterday, and that’s uncomfortably warm for us. Especially when opening windows to try and catch a breeze results in swarms of midges coming in off the croft…reminder to self, we must get some midge netting fitted to the windows.

The seedlings however are loving it. Uncle Bert’s Kale is growing madly, the potato plants are all greening up nicely and I have my first bean on my borlotti bean plant!

It was too hot to cook indoors yesterday and we were too tired to summon up a BBQ, so we headed down to Camuscross early to try and get a table for a cold drink and some supper. It’s so good to be able to do that again now that lockdown has eased.

There are worse places to be on a hot June evening… This time last year we were in London… I know where I’d rather be.

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We have warmth!

Ha ha! Happy faces! The sun has returned! The air and the soil have warmed up and as I speak we have blue skies and a soft, warm breeze.

It will be the midges soon, but I’m hoping that being at the top of a hill with more wind than most that we’ll escape the worst of them. We’re prepared, just in case – I’ve bought midge hats and nets so that if we do get bombarded we have a fighting chance of avoiding being eaten alive whilst we run back to the caravan.

Impromptu BBQ

We had an impromptu barbecue last night to celebrate the lovely evening. These shots were taken at about 7pm. As the sun dipped behind the hill at the back of the croft at around 10pm it started to get colder, and we wrapped up in blankets and added a bit more wood to the fire.

The birds are singing, the sun is shining, and husband has thrown open all the doors and windows in the house whilst he is working so that it cools down.

I don’t want to count my chickens, but it seems like summer has come at last…

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Sunshine & seedlings

After a very long, cold May we’ve awoken to warmer temperatures and sunshine at last.

Sunrise over Sleat

This photo was taken by one of our lovely neighbours from the hill above the croft whilst out on a 5am run this week. Not a sight I’d have been awake enough to capture. Thank you, Jonny.

The sun is rising before 5am now and not setting until around 11pm, giving us long, soft, light-filled days. We have another month to go before the summer solstice, so there’s more to come. It’s already not fully dark at nights and the long, light evenings on the croft are magical, if a bit chilly up till now.

Raised beds on the croft

We have cuckoos and swallows, linnets and skylarks, bluebells and wild garlic in the hedgerows. Suddenly everything is bursting into green leaf, and it’s feeling at last as if we’re on the brink of early summer.

First day of exposure! Shallots, beetroot, red veined sorrel and garlic

I’ve taken the mesh off the vegetable beds today to get a proper look at what’s survived through this very dry, cold spring. Some things are looking very sad for themselves (leeks, lettuces I’m looking at you) but others seem to have pulled through quite robustly (full marks red cabbage, kale, beetroot, potatoes, purple sprouting broccoli and shallots).

Taunton Deane kale, red cabbage and onions

Let’s hope that summer is on its way at long last!

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First meal outdoors

It was a long, hard day after a heavy week of work on the build and the croft. We decided to add a fifth vegetable bed to the growing area (remind me I said we’d start small this year? 😳) so that I could plant up my globe artichoke seedlings.

These perennials grow huge, so they ideally needed a bed of their own, which I wanted to site perpendicular to the rest to add a kind of windbreak effect.

New veg bed

For speed, and cost (the price of wood is crazy right now) we decided to use what we had on the croft and make another hugelkutur bed. The existing ones are working well for us, and we still have lots of rushes and soil that we can reuse.

Countless wheelbarrow loads of cardboard, rushes, soil, compost and woodchip later we had another bed ready for planting. It takes us about  four hours to build one of these, and it’s heavy, manual work.

We decided that we deserved a bit of relaxation and supper outside after all that exertion. We carried out some chairs and a fold-up table and positioned them amongst the building rubbish.

We’d recently bought a firepit BBQ which needed testing, so we fired her up and cooked supper on it. There’s nothing quite like the taste of real charcoal grilled Scottish steaks eaten outdoors… Everything tastes better in the open air, I think.

It was lovely to relax together eating, drinking and watching the incredible vista of sea and sky in front of us.

We added some building wood scraps to the fire to make a bit of a blaze after the charcoal had died down, and sat toasting our toes with a small glass of whisky, watching the rain and rainbows sweep across the Knoydart peninsula.

Such incredible natural beauty. Feeling very lucky to be here.

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Spring storms & wild garlic

The weather on the island has taken a turn for the worse since the Spring Equinox.

As if to laugh at our feeble attempts to plant, a prolonged few days of stormage has reminded us that Winter hasn’t done with us yet.

A neighbour brought us a huge bag of wild garlic picked from local woodlands, which was most welcome. I chopped the fragrant leaves through salad and reserved the plants that still had their bulbs and roots attached so that we could plant them on the croft.

Husband dug them into a damp, grassy bank above the stream under dappled shade. Hopefully they’ll take and we’ll have the start of our own wild garlic patch before too long.

Just as he finished the planting, the heavens opened. We’ve now had a solid 48 hours of hail, rain and high winds, and it’s not abating any time soon.

Our tiny burn went from a gentle trickle of water to this rushing torrent within hours…

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Waste not, want not

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.

My mother would have been proud.

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Seafood feast

I love living on this island. The waters around it are cold and clean, and the seafood fished in its waters can’t be beaten.

Kind neighbours alerted us to the fact that we could buy rope grown mussels fresh from a small mussel farm a few villages away some weeks back. I’ve always loved shellfish, but these were a revelation. Small and sweet.

This morning we got a text from them again to say that fresh langoustine would be landed today, and would we like some? Would we ever!

They arrived as the sun was setting, with a carrier bag holding two kilos of live langoustine. For less money than a tiny bowl of these, should you even be able to get them, in London..

When we opened the bag I have to say that my heart quailed a bit. They were very alive…snapping their pincers and looking very angry. Quite rightly so. Thankfully husband is made of sterner stuff and he stepped in and cooked and prepared them for us.

Supper tonight was a feast. Simply cooked and dipped in garlic and coriander butter, they were sweet and succulent. I’ve never had fresher or tasted better.

I suspect most of these make their way abroad usually, but with Covid meaning that hotels and restaurants are closed, the local fishermen are offering them to locals.

Definitely our gain.

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The first raised beds

The first three raised beds are built and in place. Hurrah! Another small but significant milestone on our croft journey.

There was a short gap in the weather this morning which husband took advantage of. The timber was cut, positioned and screwed together to create three high sided, solid boxes.

The challenge here is the exposure of the site. We receive the full force of the South Westerlies which whip over the croft, with only limited tree cover to the west. The flat land that is cultivable is close to the house and right at the top of the hill.

In terms of positioning I wanted the beds close to the house for ease of access and proximity to water supply. They also needed ideally to be oriented east-west to maximise exposure to sunlight, and if possible be sited on flat land. The perfect (and only really viable) place here is going to need good wind protection.

We will put up a heavy duty mesh windbreak whilst we plan what type of hedging should be planted here, get the basis of the hedging in, and that will be it for this year. I can start with basic, small scale vegetable production in between house building.

We’re also keen to get compost piles started, so timber to construct a couple of adjacent compost bays is on its way.

Behind this row of beds I’m thinking of trying a hugelkutur bed, which I’ve read great things about. We will have wood debris that can form the core of it from fallen branches from the existing trees, and we should have home grown compost by next year.

First things first though.

Tomorrow I will line these beds with cardboard as a weed suppressant and start moving and de-stoning soil to fill them. This huge soil pile was excavated from the croft when the builders dug the parking area the caravan is sited on, and it will form the bulk of the growing material in the beds, topped off with compost mulch.

It feels good to be preparing for growth.

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Gales, rain & lentil soup

The cold, crisp winter days of the last month have been replaced by a storm front bringing with it high winds and torrential rain. I knew it couldn’t last.. 😊

Last night the wind veered to the South West from the Easterlies that had been dominating for the last few weeks, and the caravan started to flex like a boat in the wind.

As I write, curled up on the cushions in the caravan, everything is moving. The noise of the wind, which is about 55 mph at the moment, is incredible. The rain sounds like a thousand marbles being flung at the windows, rattling and crashing loudly against the glass.

I can no longer see the mountains across the Sound or the sea itself through the sheet of rain that has wrapped itself around us.

Then it clears, replaced with an incredible luminosity until the next bank of rain-heavy clouds bear down on us.

Luckily we are well strapped down, so I don’t have any real fear of being scooped up and tumbled down the hillside, although at times it feels like that!

I drink my tea and soothe our rather startled old dog who doesn’t understand why everything is moving. He’s never really understood the caravan.

I’ve made some garlic lentil soup to warm us both through later.

It won’t change the weather, but it will provide some comfort on this wild winters day.