We’ve had some beautiful sunrises over the last few weeks.
This morning as the sun rose slowly behind the mountains on the Knoydart Peninsula it sent a shaft of sunlight through the valley towards Loch Nevis, like an orange searchlight.
The morning was blustery, with strong winds building steadily. We’ve had storm warnings of up to 80mph winds for the west of the island, and listening to the wind roaring around the house, I can believe it.
Time to secure the bins and tie down anything loose before it takes off.
I remember watching the cover on my rotary washing line wrestle itself free of its bindings and fly off triumphantly in a storm last year. It’s probably in Norway by now.
There is a croft not far from here on the Sleat peninsula called Wildlife Croft Skye. It’s a beautiful woodland croft nestled into the hillside at Drumfearn, at the head of Loch Eishort.
Its owners, Phil and Laura, ran a croft walk-around event and discussion about sustainable woodland practices yesterday, and we attended.
Drumfearn and Loch Eishort
Phil had warned that the terrain was a bit steep and uneven in places, and with the event scheduled to run over four hours I confess to nearly cancelling as I was worried that my knees would give out. But I’ve followed Wildlife Croft for years and really wanted to see the croft and learn about how they managed it, so off we went.
Wildlife Croft Skye
It was an overcast and drizzly day, but that didn’t dampen our enjoyment of it a bit. Phil had cut green swathes through the tall grass and undergrowth to create paths so navigating the three hectare woodland space wasn’t as difficult as I’d feared.
This is a green haven for wildlife on an otherwise quite typically barren hillside of island terrain. Trees cover most of the area, the bird and insect life is incredible and their house, polytunnel and bothy (Stonechat Bothy, which is bookable as a holiday let if anyone is interested in a remarkable place to stay) are nestled into the trees and aren’t at all visible from the single track road that snakes through the tiny township down to the sea loch.
Young oak
The tree varieties, mostly native species and many that they have grown themselves from seed, are extensive. Alder, elder, aspen, rowan, oak, hawthorn, birch, beech, many species of willow (grown for Laura’s basket making) and so many others. There are clumps of wild raspberries, blackberries, pignuts, wild angelica, carpets of meadowsweet, wild irises, grasses and wild orchids in abundance.
Wild Angelica with red soldier beetles
They have about fifty apple and pear trees, many of them heritage varieties planted over the last eight years, all growing successfully on a sheltered part of the croft, many already laden with young fruit.
Yes, the trees need managing, and no they can’t be just planted and left completely to their own devices, but Phil’s tree management is light touch, largely leaving nature to do its own thing. And everything seems to find a balance nicely.
We came away re-energised and inspired. This place started just like our croft, a hillside of over-grazed grassland on a steep slope, and now it’s a green oasis for wildlife, providing the family with fuel, food and a beautiful place to live in partnership with nature. If we can achieve a fraction of this we’ll be happy.
This year has been full of experiments of the vegetable variety.
Tomatoes, red hot chillis, mild chillis, carrots, beetroot
It’s been the first year with the polycrub and growing in containers rather than beds. I started rather late in our short season, as the polycrub wasn’t built until the end of April. All of which meant that my expectations were set at a pretty low level for success.
And those expectations have largely been fulfilled ..
However, there have been a few pleasant surprises. Today I harvested my first cobs of sweetcorn. They’re small, it’s true, and there are only a few of them. But when I planted the corn seeds in May, followed by our largely sunless non-summer I really didn’t think that anything would come of them.
Sweetcorn – yay!
And yet here we are, eating sweetcorn from the croft with our supper. I’m a bit amazed that I’ve managed to produce something so seemingly exotic out of our cold, wet island.
I know that all growers are convinced that their produce is wonderful, but I’m a critical grower, honestly. Our tomatoes have been prolific but disappointing in taste this year and there are some plants, lovingly tended, that have not thrived or produced a harvest worthy of a repeat next year. However, this corn was absolutely delicious, an hour from plant to plate. Sweet and very succulent.
I stand in awe of the tolerance that some plants have for less than ideal environments. It gives me great hope for next years food production which will be in deep beds, fertilised with our own seaweed and croft compost.
A world apart in terms of taste!
Fifty seven degrees north. Who would have guessed!
The wet non-summer continues with rain and chilly temperatures closer to autumn.
A gap between the rain showers
We’ve had rain just about every day for months now, and I can’t help watching the blazing summer and terrible droughts and water shortages across the rest of the UK and Europe in despair. Whilst we’re drowning. There has to be a better way to share this. Somehow.
Incoming
Whilst I recover from my operation I’ve been reading books, pottering in the polycrub (which at least provides shelter from the rain) and sewing.
Rainy days
I had a sashiko panel and some threads tucked away in my sewing bag from when we first moved here, so I’ve spent many happy, peaceful hours sewing away.
Sashiko panel
Sashiko is just a running stitch, so it’s repetitive and soothing to do. I’ve finished the main panel now, but need to sew a border and frame to complete it, and to do that I’ll need until we’re in the house and the boxes are unpacked. I’ve got material and a sewing machine in storage that will finish this nicely. This was a progress photo from last week. For now I’ll just pack it away.
Nearly done
The floorboard laying will finish upstairs in the house today, and husband is installing the back-boxes for the sockets in the kitchen this week, so although there’s not much to see, progress still continues. We’re getting there!
Sometimes the Scottish Highlands simply take your breath away.
Blue skies and an old hawthorn tree
After months of cold and rain, all of a sudden summer is here. Warm days, blue skies and intense sunsets. Memories of cold, wet winter days dissolve in the brilliant light.
We are only three weeks away from the midsummer solstice, and the light is incredible. It doesn’t really get dark at all. Sunset is around 10.30pm but the skies retain a half light until the dawn breaks again at about 4.30am with the return of pink skies.
The sunset just starting
The sunsets have been spectacular over the last few nights.
Sun dipping behind the back of the croft
These dry days also mean that daily life is easier. Drying clothes on racks in the house is difficult at the moment as there is plaster and building dust everywhere. The caravan often resembles a Chinese laundry.
But we’ve been able to line dry our clothes again now that the air temperatures are sitting at a very nice 18-22C. There’s something nostalgic for me about pegging out washing, and the scent of clean, wind-dried clothes is one that takes me right back to my childhood, and is a smell that I love.
Drying washing on the croft
We sat over lunch today out on the croft, listening to the birds squabbling in the hedgerows and watching the swallows swoop over the roof of the house, and laughed with the pleasure of it all.
Duncraig Nursery is one of those wonderful, remote places that are quite magical when you find them.
Nestled in a hidden wooded glen near Plockton, surrounded by an old walled garden from the nearby castle, it’s location is beautiful.
Duncraig castle
From the moment you arrive, car tyres crunching on the stone chipped path, to the initial conversation with the owners who radiate deep plant love and knowledge, you realise that this is a special place.
I went with a friend on an exploratory visit, and we both squeaked with delight as we found more and more of the plants that we were looking for. All good strong varieties, tried and tested to survive in the highlands of Scotland.
All in tip top health, all vibrant and well tended. It was a completely different experience to the rather sad, city garden centre that I’d visited last week in Inverness where the plants were stressed, in need of water and limply unhappy.
Purchases awaiting planting up
I went looking for cucumber seedlings as mine had not germinated for some reason. They were the only big failures in my seed sowing this year. I was worried that sowing again so late in the growing season, already short here this far north in the highlands, would mean that we wouldn’t get a crop at all.
Cucumbers and tomatoes
I found cucumber seedlings. I found strawberry plants full in flower, chilli peppers, sweet red peppers, lettuces and glorious red kale. The soft fruit selection, shrubs, fruit trees and herbs were fabulous. I could have bought the entire place up if I had enough growing room!
We will be back. The danger is now to our bank balance for subsequent visits! Saying that, I’d rather spend my money supporting a local garden business where the owners have a real love for their enterprise than a faceless chain where profit is the main concern.
Compost bag with lemon verbena
I’ve roped in husband to help and have now potted up my purchases. We ran out of canvas bags and sheep lick tubs, so are now using empty folded over compost bags as temporary plant containers . Waste not, want not, as my mum used to say.
I can’t remember how long I’ve nursed the fantasy of potting up plants in a warm greenhouse whilst sipping a mug of tea. Maybe listening to an audio book, or a podcast.
I’m such a party animal. I’m not ashamed to say that the quiet life is definitely for me.
Potting up
This morning I took my mug of tea out to the polycrub. I sat there in the warmth, perched at the camping table surrounded by the smell of damp compost and the sound of skylarks rising over the moors above us, and felt content. I even managed to pot up a few trays of young seedlings.
This was my first taste of pottering about in this sheltered space, growing things without being blasted by the south westerlies, and it was wonderful.
We’re slowly wheelbarrowing loads of woodchip from our tonne bag on the other side of the croft to make a weed surpressant covering over the cardboard. It’s about half way there, and whereas the old me would be stressing that I can’t complete it more quickly, the new me just accepts that it’s slow but that it will eventually get done.
There are several trays of young seedlings that will need potting up into my canvas grow bags over the next few weeks. It will happen.
The house is progressing well.
We have plasterboarded out some of the roof space walls upstairs now, so I have a much better idea of the bedroom dimensions now that the eaves have been boarded out.
A friend suggested a clever hack for extra storage in the often somewhat wasted space in the eaves. Most people put a cupboard door in the eaves, but it’s still a bit inaccessible.
Drawer units either side of the headboard space
We’ve bought a couple of drawer units and are building the eaves around them. Once finished, this will be plastered and painted white, leaving the two drawer units embedded flush in the walls. Easy to access, one on either side of the bed, and useful space.
Although it’s been warm during the days of April up here on the island, with temperatures of around 16C, the nights are still pretty cold at about 5C or less. So it’s time to still be cautious about planting anything tender out.
We’ve started prepping the polycrub growing area with a layer of cardboard followed by a layer of wood chippings to act as a weed suppressant.
It’s been heavy work for husband wheelbarrowing load after load of woodchip over the croft to the tunnel so that I could lay and level it. We’re not finished yet.
I’ve also started filling old sheep lick tubs and canvas grow bags with soil and compost so that I can plant out some of my seedlings. The local crofters give them away and they’re great to recycle as planters with a few holes drilled in the base of each for drainage.
So far I’ve got peas, borlotti beans, and a few squash and courgette plants in the tunnel. The salad leaves are in there too waiting to transfer into positions outside. The tomatoes, cucumbers, dill, parsley, basil and chillis are still too small to go out into the tunnel yet so will benefit from a few more weeks of growth.
I also managed to get the carrots and kale sown directly into the raised beds. Potatoes, onions and garlic are already in. So although the beds look pretty empty, they’re actually full!
A busy time on the croft. Days of lifting, raking, bending and sowing. I’m certainly sleeping well at night at the moment!
Wishing you all a great growing season with good weather and lots of greens. ❤️
I feel as if we’re spinning lots of plates and at any time they’re going to come crashing down and make a proper mess of the floor.
Let’s hope not.
Whilst the plasterers continue strapping, boarding out and plastering upstairs, the plaster has now dried fully downstairs, and husband has started painting the first of the rooms.
Large tubs of paint
The walls are going to take three coats of paint, as the new plaster sucks up the pigment like a sponge. I suspect that we are going to be heartily sick of decorating by the time we’ve painted the whole house. Painted the whole house three times.. I’m not sure how well the plan to live with it for a year to get used to the light then redecorate with colour is going to hold! We may never feel like painting again 😊
I’m trying hard to focus on how much money that will save us and not the stiff backs, sore arms and paint splattered hair.
Whilst final ducting and plastering goes on upstairs we’re ordering the bulk of the things needed to finish the build now.
We always knew that the costs for flooring, kitchens and bathrooms would all come out at the same time, but it is a bit terrifying to watch thousands of pounds disappear like smoke from the bank account. The joys of self building, eh. And prices go up every time you look again at an item. Craziness, at the moment.
We’ve ordered the kitchen and utility room cupboard carcasses and are just about to do the same for the cabinet doors. The cabinet knobs all arrived last week. The external lights, spotlights and plug sockets are all here. The sinks, taps and bathroom fittings have all been ordered and will start dribbling in over the next few weeks. The floor and bathroom tiles should be here shortly.
Kitchen sink arrived!
We’ve still got doors, skirting, architraves and a staircase to order, but we’re getting there.
Plate spinning will continue for the next few months. I can’t say when, if ever, normal service will be resumed.
He’s a wonderful guy, imbued with a quiet energy and zen-like focus with long grey hair and beard. I didn’t notice if he was wearing a Grateful Dead T-shirt, but I wouldn’t be at all surprised.
He’s been here just three days and we already have four of the downstairs rooms taped, edges reinforced, sealed and the first coat of plaster applied.
Rather than travelling daily, he’s camping overnight in the house whilst he works. As far as I can tell from the depths of my cosy bed in the caravan he seems to be up and working by 6am, and as I write this at 10pm I can hear him still working away under the building lights in the house.
Our midnight plasterer is working like a Trojan. His plastering looks to be excellent. Even the basecoat that I looked at yesterday was as smooth as the icing on a wedding cake.
The rooms are slowly taking shape. It’s fascinating to watch the structure of the house gradually swallow up the kilometres of insulation, cable and ducting under a smooth skin of plaster.
Ravencroft Skye 