Tag: isle of skye

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Perennial Vegetables

I love the idea of vegetables that are sown or planted once and keep growing. For years.

There’s a lot of effort involved in sowing vegetable seed annually, so it makes sense to have perennial vegetables as the backbone of a permaculture garden.

They may not bring instant rewards, but you know what, this croft garden is for the long term and so a few years for these plants to establish before they give back isn’t a great deal to ask.

Perennial vegetables are for the most part ancient heritage varieties. They include such vegetables as asparagus, artichokes, walking onions, leeks, kale and broccoli. Some of these varieties, such as the Sutherland kale that I’m growing from seed, nearly died out and are really quite rare.

I’ve received my very first perennial vegetable in the post from Quercus Edibles, a small grower in Devon. It’s a Babbington Leek. As soon as the hail storms abate, this little clump of hardy loveliness is going into the ground.

The first of what I hope will be many perennial plants on the croft.

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The Pair of Ravens

I’ve mentioned before that we have two Ravens on the croft. Ravens are solitary birds, but they are said to pair-bond and mate for life.

*photo credit the Raven Master, Tower of London

As mating season approached this Spring, we noticed the morning calls from the old pine tree start to change.

In addition to the rough croaking song of the male raven each morning, there’s a more softly pitched, warbling call that comes a few seconds afterwards in response from the female. This is repeated many times over the course of the day. We think that they have nested somewhere in the large trees on the western boundary.

We often see the two birds flying over the croft together throughout the day, hovering and wheeling through the skies before disappearing over the hills to the north of us. They are skillful flyers.

I personally think it’s fabulous to have such birds on the croft, but many of the crofter locals think otherwise. I’ve had darkly muttered comments about Ravens taking newborn lambs, and whether or not this is true, or how infrequently it happens, there’s no allowance given for the fact that even Ravens have to eat, and that this is sadly Nature’s way.

I appreciate that there has to be a balance. But to demonise an intelligent bird that is doing no more than trying to survive can’t be the way.

We’ll continue to enjoy our Ravens.

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Sunday musings

As I sit here with my feet up in front of the fire and a blanket across my legs, the rain is lashing the sides of the caravan. There is a small, furry dog snoring by my side, I feel content that it’s been a productive week.

The weather broke yesterday from a four day dry spell. It held long enough for us to finish the guttering at the back of the house after a great deal of effort and frozen fingers.

Do not ask me what husband is doing at this point on the flat roof….. I couldn’t resist a quick shot. 😊 (Cyprus Joe, that’s a metaphorical shot before you start with the death of husband jokes.. 😉)

It may have been dry but it was only about three or four degrees centigrade at most, and especially cold whilst up the ladder.

Husband says that he’s developed a death grip from hanging on grimly whilst working at height ..

There’s been some progress too on the croft side. The seeds are coming along nicely. The potatoes are chitting. I’ve pricked out lettuce, beetroot and parsley seeds, which seem to be growing well despite the rather makeshift greenhouse arrangements in the caravan.

I’ve also planted out the garlic into the raised beds and have the hoops and enviromesh ready for when anything else goes in. Which the locals advise shouldn’t be until the end of April at the earliest to avoid the threat of frost…

I’ve sowed some borage, calendula and nasturtiums as companion plants: we may as well start to provide food for beneficial insects and bees as quickly as we can. I’ve now run out of room completely for seed trays…this last batch are balanced precariously on the cooker…

On the compost side, husband has ordered the material for the compost bin roof and we’ve started adding our household vegetable waste to the bins.

A neighbour is happy to keep her composting food waste for us too, so this should double the rate of build up. I’ve also sourced donkey, horse and chicken poo locally from crofters and stables, so as soon as we can collect we can add these to the mix.

And the berry bed that I have been planning for so long is starting!

I now have honeyberry, tayberry, raspberry and blueberry plants all ready for planting. I also have cuttings of jostaberry, red gooseberry, and blackcurrant which have survived the worst of the winter so far and which have started to bud..

A good week.

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The Vault of Black Gold

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.. 😊

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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.

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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.

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The barter economy

There’s something very nourishing about an exchange that doesn’t involve money and something very warming about the generosity of a local community.

Here on the island, our neighbours are generous and giving. We’ve received gifts of home made oatcakes, snowdrops, daffodil bulbs, chocolate, locally made candles, wine and other small gifts since we arrived. It’s touching and heartwarming whenever this happens.

Lockdown here can be difficult for people, especially when shopping involves icy roads and long distances, so I often text a few neighbours before we set out for the supermarket to check whether we can pick anything up for them.

On the last occasion we picked up a few low value items for a neighbour and were given a bottle of wine in exchange! Such a lovely gesture.

Today, friends from a few villages away have dropped off (socially distanced) a homemade curry in a huge le crueset pot, a delicious looking Murghi, and as I couldn’t have them leave empty handed, I baked them a lemon drizzle cake.

The ties of community are strong here. Even whist we are all apart, generosity thrives. I love that.

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Slow days

Everything has dipped this week. I’ve noticed both husband and I gradually losing energy and becoming slower and more reluctant to do things.

I don’t know if it’s the short, cold days, the effect of this prolonged lockdown, or a combination of both, but we are drooping a bit.

Problems with the build and trying to find ways to correct the problems (thank you builders), the prospect of further supply delays and scarcity of materials, and costs going up steeply with new import taxes (thank you Brexit) have probably contributed to our general malaise and lack of energy.

We will get through this. It’s just a few slow days.

All I can do is keep morale up as much as I can for both of us.

I know that pear pancakes and lemon drizzle cake with tea later in the day won’t solve anything, but they’re sweet and comforting and do make us feel a little better.

So that’s what we’ve been doing this week. In between jobs we wrap up in blankets, drink tea and eat cake.

My way of getting through the dark days.

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Eerie Blue Light

The days are getting longer. Although we are still in the clutch of a cold winter here on the croft, with snow still on the hills and an icy wind, my thoughts have increasingly moved to garden planning as our daylight hours have lengthened.

I’ve started some seeds off in the little bedroom in the caravan. We have no greenhouse, cold frames or polytunnel yet, so needs must.

It’s a bit of a make-do affair with a propagator heat pad, some cardboard boxes, seed trays, old yoghurt pots that I’ve been saving since we moved here, and one of those whizzy octopus UV grow lights to help start things off.

Everything is bathed in an eerie blue light from its flexible metal arms. It’s like something from the X Files… I go in a few times each day to check on things and can’t resist adjusting it.

Lord only knows what the neighbours must think when they see the strange, neon blue light glowing through the thin curtains at dusk…

I’m starting small. More will follow in March and April, which is a much more sensible time to start new plants here.

I’ve started garlic, onions (although the recommended local wisdom is to grow from sets rather than seed, which I only discovered after I’d bought them), leeks, parsley, beets and rocket. Seed potatoes are on their way in the next week ready for chitting.

I know it’s early, but it’s such a short season that it makes sense (to me at least) to have plants ready to be planted out in May, and they’ll need a full month of hardening off, I suspect.

The garlic has leaped into action almost immediately. I’m growing a rose and a white skinned garlic, both hardy varieties, and both a bit of an experiment, although local growers report that they generally grow well here.

I’ve been keeping my eyes peeled for old glass windows or sheets of polycarbonate on the local ads to make cold frames, but they’re scarcer than hens teeth at this time of the year, so we may need to buy materials new and create our own.

And so it begins.

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The Walnut Tree

A wonderful parcel arrived in the post yesterday. Carefully wrapped and attached to a wooden stake was a young walnut tree.

This was a gift from a friend as a moving-in present, and had been dispatched from a specialist supplier in England when the planting time was deemed right.

We were a bit concerned that the ground up here would still be frozen, but a few exploratory shovelfuls established that the soil was fine beneath the grass and rush cover.

We chose a spot that was in full sun, relatively flat (as walnuts don’t like steep slopes) and with some shelter from the prevailing south westerlies from the bank of trees nearby on the western boundary of the croft.

Husband dug the hole. The soil is surprisingly fertile and loamy, and we managed to get to 60-80cm before hitting shale. I hope that it will be enough for the little tree.

Our very first tree planting on the croft, and hopefully the first of many.

Thank you so much, Jo x

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