Tag: isle of skye

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Preparations for winter

We’re preparing the static for the end of October as best we can whilst still being several hundred miles away.


It’s on the croft and tonne bags of hardcore have been moved into place this week to provide it with a bit more anchor weight. Kind neighbours have strapped the hardcore bags to the static with high strength lorry straps for us.

We’ve been warned that there are often ninety mph winds that blow in the winter, and that the weight of the caravan alone won’t be enough for safety.

We hope that the combination of these tethered weights, an emplacement of strategically placed sandbags to funnel the prevailing south westerlies, and the protection afforded by the house will be enough to protect it from the worst of the winter gales.


We also need to level and secure the static more effectively, and for this we are going to use railway sleepers which we will have delivered to site over the next couple of weeks. We’ll use them to construct steps up to the caravan door as well so that our lovely but ancient spaniel (and equally ancient and rickety croft wifie) can make it in and out more easily 😊.


We’re also buying paint, brushes and supplies this week so that the first few days after arrival will see it cleaned and freshened up inside ready for occupation. Gas bottles and connections to water and electricity will also have to happen before we can move in.

It’s going to be a very busy October and November. 🙂
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Decompressing

I’m slowly decompressing from work life.

I feel a bit like a balloon that was filled to capacity and at maximum tension. I bobbed along but was always conscious that everything was taut and there wasn’t much stretch left.

Not much capacity for squeezing in the good stuff, like realising dreams.

In the last week since finishing work I’ve been sleeping a lot. It feels as if someone has undone the knot at the neck of the balloon and is letting the air escape very slowly. I’m feeling as if there’s a bit of room now, with the balloon deflating a little more with each day that passes.

That’s a good thing. It’s freeing up some mental capacity for the lists that we’re building of things that have to be done before the move. Things that will help us realise the dream. Financial planning, changes of address, tools to buy for the build, sequencing the build plans, packing, clearing out things we no longer need. The list is a long one and continually being added to.

Those that know me will smile when they hear that the first thing I’ve bought for the static to keep us on track with the build tasks is a whiteboard…

I can see it now. Cold, frosty morning starts, piled-on old jumpers and big socks, mugs of coffee and bowls of porridge, and a morning stand-up to go through the priority tasks of each day.

Maybe retirement isn’t going to be that different to corporate life after all. Except so much more fun. Agile team leads, eat your heart out 😊

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Static Adventures

We had a busy three days on the island checking the progress on site, talking to the builders, getting the static caravan in place and meeting a few neighbours in a socially distanced manner. It was good.

We came home tired but happy.

The caravan arrived on Tuesday. Watching from the top of the croft I could see that the lorry transporting it had got part the way up the steep access road, but was losing traction on the hardcore surface of the track. It tried a few times, but rolled back in each instance. My heart sank for a few moments thinking that all our plans would come to nothing.

Luckily for us there was still a digger on the croft, and one of our enterprising builders used a tow rope to connect it to the front of the lorry and reversing, dragged it up the hill over the steep part of the track. Relief was not the word!

With help from a kind neighbour Donnie and his tractor, the static was manoevered into place behind the house, where we hoped it would benefit from some shelter from the prevailing South Westerlies.

It’s really exposed to the elements at the top of the croft there. There was a stiff 40km per hour breeze blowing on the day that we moved it, so we could guess what it would feel like in the more typical winter gales of 70-90km per hour….

Four one tonne bags of hardcore are being delivered to site today and friends have kindly arranged to strap the caravan down to them with lorry straps to anchor it until we get to site again at the end of October.

It needs proper stabilising on a base, some steps, a lick of paint, some small internal repairs and a good airing, but those things will have to wait until we’re there permanently now. Soon.

The builders have done a good job, and we were really pleased with the quality of the work. The cladding looks great and should be finished in the next week. The roof slating completed yesterday.

A few more weeks and the external elements of the build will be complete ready to hand over to us for the rest.

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The cladding starts

We’re up at the build site and it’s amazing to see it for real rather than just via photos. It’s so exciting! Last time we were here this was all a muddy hillside on the croft.

The larch cladding has started. We were up on site as they were working on it, and even outside with a strong Skye breeze blowing away from me I could smell the lovely, resinous scent of the wood as they were cutting it.

It takes me straight back to years of my childhood when we used to picnic in the pine woods of what was then West Germany. That scent from cut pine trees was everywhere.

This is Russwood Siberian Larch cladding. We’re really pleased with the quality. It has a good weight, colour and relatively few knots. It’s being secured to the house with stainless steel nails and is going up pretty quickly.

It was a bit of a shock to see the black disappearing, as I was quite taken with the black wall effect. But speaking to the joiner onsite he was saying that the colour will silver and the wood will harden within a couple of years, and that if we aren’t keen on the effect by that stage, that’s the time to consider staining or painting it. I like it, though, even without the weathering.

We think a further two weeks with the builders onsite and they’ll be done with the exterior.

Then it will be over to us at the end of a October to start the interior..

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The last day

It was such a strange day today. Not at all as I’d expected for my last working day of corporate life. Lockdown and remote working have changed the dynamic of these things so much that days like today just don’t seem real somehow.

It wasn’t a hugely busy day.

My PA had cleared my diary of just about all but the team goodbye meetings, which I did remotely via Zoom. It was a day of thanks, remembrances and generosity of spirit.

And sadness.

I can’t quite get my head around the fact that from tomorrow I don’t need to worry about work budgets, people development, recruitment, resourcing, major incidents, steering committees, security boards, global forums, projects and a hundred other things that have previously consumed my waking hours.

I just need to breathe. Maybe have a leisurely breakfast. Maybe not get dressed until I feel like it.

I can focus on the planning and packing for our croft move.

It’s the beginning of the real adventure.

It feels unreal.

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Skye Legends

I’ve been reading this wonderful little book over the last weekend, in between sorting out cupboards and packing for the island. I have to confess to more tea and reading than actual packing…

It was written in 1952 by a lady called Otta Swire who loved the island and who collected its folktales as she travelled.

It does a complete circuit of the island, stretching out into each winged peninsula and recording the tales and legends heard in each village. Some of them are Celtic, stretching back into prehistory, some Nordic, some medieval ;- all fascinating.

It’s a fabulously rich source of the most amazing stories, and for those that don’t know the island well, a superb introduction to the differences between the areas. It’s true that the nature, feel and landscape of each of the peninsulas of Skye are all very different, and Otta Swire captures this uniqueness beautifully.

I laughed out loud and ended up recounting several of them to husband at various points over the weekend, always a good sign that I’m enjoying a book.

For me personally it’s important to know something of both the history and the folklore of the area that you live in, and Skye is deeply steeped in both. I think that learning the local lore binds you more closely to the land, gifting you the insight and the experiences that shaped those that lived before you.

Who knew for example that a local lochan was once said to host a magical water horse, that a bay less than a mile away from the croft sports the name “The Bay of the Forsaken Ones” or that the legend surrounding Castle Dunscaith includes the tragic tale of a wife who killed and fed her children to her cruel husband then threw herself to her death onto the rocks from a castle window?

Black cats feature heavily in the local folklore, as do blue men, kilted warriors, strange beasts such as water horses and the walrus….

It’s all part of the magic of this incredible place – dark, brooding, mysterious, sometimes grim, and very close to faery and the otherworld.

Perfect for dark evenings sitting around the fire and tale-telling over a glass or two of the local Talisker.

The best seat by the fire is always reserved for the Story Teller.

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It stops, and it starts again…

We’ve had a delay in progress on the build for the last few weeks because the roof light window flashings didn’t arrived as planned.

They’re coming from Poland, apparently, where our Fakro windows are manufactured, and they were delayed. As such, the slate laying had to stop, and from the looks of it nothing else could be done on site. The builder tried to start the exterior wall larch cladding to make up time but his man went sick and so progress stalled here too.

The good news is that we heard this week that the flashings have turned up at last, and work has restarted.

I shouldn’t be frustrated by this, but everything was moving so smoothly and so fast that even though I knew that there’d be bumps in the road, I’d sort of got used to the exceptional progress as normal. It wasn’t normal, of course. Problems and delays are the normal state of affairs in any project of this size.

We’re close enough to our actual site visit next month now for this to feel real and for excitement to build at the prospect of seeing our home in the flesh, so to speak. Pictures and videos are great, and have been so welcome, but this will be the first time that we will have been able to see and touch the house. I simply can’t wait.

Even the slightly daunting prospect of the flight to Inverness in these Covid-19 times isn’t enough to stop the anticipation building….

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Leaving for a new life

I’m in my last three weeks at work now before leaving corporate life forever. Even writing that down feels incredibly final after thirty plus years of working!

It’s a bitter-sweet feeling. I’ve worked as an IT Director/CIO for twenty years now, and have never done anything else other than technology and change.

I’ve been privileged to work for some amazing companies during this time.

What’s kept me going all this time has been working within creative media companies, music and book publishing especially, over the last fifteen years. When you love the product that your company produces, and you’re working with like-minded people, it’s easy to stay motivated. Music, art and books have always been my passion.

Having said that, it’s time to hang up the business suit. Metaphorically speaking – it’s a very long time since I actually wore a business suit 😊.

Increasingly over the last ten years I’ve felt a growing sense of weariness with the battle for technology to be recognised as core to company strategy, with long commutes and with long working hours. Husband feels the same. It’s eroding our sanity and increasingly feels empty of worth beyond the paycheck, however necessary that paycheck has been.

We’ve both decided to stop. I’m not going to use the word retirement, but it’s time for us to move to the next phase of our lives. I suspect that the next five years are going to be harder work than either of us have ever experienced, but we both relish the challenge.

For us it’s about a simpler life. Getting off the treadmill and doing something for ourselves. We will be much poorer in monetary terms, that’s a racing certainty, but we’ll be richer in other, more important ways. And we both feel the need for that so strongly.

Building our forever home is going to be hard. We’ll make mistakes, and our bodies aren’t used to daily physical labour. There’s going to be a lot of pain and frustration. But we think that the satisfaction of one day being able to sit in front of the log burner looking out at the view through our big windows over the Sound of Sleat and be able to say “we did this” is something worth striving for.

Nature and the land are also extremely important to us. The island is a beautiful place and we believe that planting trees can only enhance that for both local wildlife and our ourselves. This will be a legacy that we won’t perhaps see to its full maturity, but that which we hope the next generation will reap the benefits of.

We hope someone after us will love the little six acre patch of croft that we will create as much as we will. With its orchards, nut trees, willow beds, rowans, hawthorns and birch groves it will be a special place.

The other thing that I am so looking forward to is growing some of our own food. We’ll have vegetable beds, herb beds and berry beds. We will plant apple and hazelnut trees.

We’ll grow mushrooms on beech logs and keep chickens for their eggs. I will have the time to bake bread and to cook with what we grow and raise.

As well as this, I’m looking forward to spending time exploring my creative side, something that has been suppressed for most of my adult life. We’ve reserved one of the rooms in the house as a small studio for me to create in. I think that being surrounded by so much natural beauty will re-kindle my desire to create again. Whether that’s in clay, on canvas or in textiles I don’t yet know, but I can feel it there, quietly simmering under the surface of my respectability and exhaustion.

These last few months in London are a time of packing, planning and reflection, and of nervousness and anticipation at the magnitude of the change that we’re undertaking.

There’s much uncertainty in the coming years for all of us, but I do know that this is the right thing for us to do.

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Slates

A dreich day, with constant drizzle. A friend on the island visited site to take pictures of more progress for us.

The slates are being laid.

Loving the texture of these.

The windows are also now in place.

Can’t help thinking how good this would look in black – not a look that we’d seriously considered previously.

The only challenge with a black or grey stain is that it needs maintenance every few years, and probably reapplication to keep looking good. Natural Siberian larch is left untreated and it greys naturally over the years, needing nothing further. The wood hardens in reaction to the atmosphere and weather and protects itself.

It will be ready for its larch cladding in a few weeks time and we’ll see how its weatherproof wooden coat looks “au naturele” then.

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The joy of posi joists

When the photos arrived last week from the site, one of the things that most struck me as a building novice was our joists.

I had never seen joists like this before. To be honest, I’d never given joists much thought. Thankfully our architects had!

A few minutes research online confirmed that these were web or posi joists, and that they’ve been around for a while.

Hugely strong with a steel web reinforcing the timber struts, they enable long spans of floor to be constructed without structural reinforcement such as load bearing walls, and their open nature allows easy installation of services, like MVHR.

MVHR (Mechanical Ventilation and Heat Recovery) systems are a very effective way to reduce the heat energy used in thermally efficient homes. We will be installing MVHR and these joists enable the ducts to be run through the construction very easily.

There is also less movement in these joists than with traditional timber, meaning more solidity to floors, less creaking and better sound insulation.

The more I read about these joists the more I realise that these were a great inclusion, and yet another element of the build that I’ve been quietly impressed with.

This may look like a traditional island house from the outside once it’s clad in larch and its roof has been slated, but its bones will be made up from the latest technologies in building innovation, making this a warm, strong, energy efficient construction which I hope will benefit us for many years to come.