'Take your Rowan to work on a boat ' Friday.

Rowan 'Pink Pagoda' enjoying the fine views of Graemsay and Hoy

So Friday's can often be dress down or casual can't they, in some jobs, so this Friday, in the spirit of joining in on that 'Friday feeling' I took a lovely wee pink Rowan (Sorbus hupenhensis 'Pink Pagoda' to give it is posh Sunday name) on a ferry ride. We went away to visit Sian of Life on a Small Island and help her in her rather lovely walled garden plant some trees. This particular rowan was very excited to be going on its first ferry trip. OK so when it first came to Orkney it came on a ferry, but it was in its winter slumber. So this time it was all the more excited for being awake during this short 45 minute trip to one of the smaller Orkney islands, Graemsay. The actual ferry time to the island is alot smaller but this ferry goes via Moness on Hoy - so its a lovely scenic trip where you can enjoy the views. So once aboard the Peedie (small) Rowan and I relaxed and enjoyed the sail. For once, it wasn't bumpy. This wee lassie is NOT a good sailor. I'm not so sure Rowans are keen either. And, that's a bit rich calling the Rowan peedie, its well taller than me.

Ferry to a new home.

Its customary to take your 'freight' be that tree or bag or messages (shopping) on the boat by hand, so a bag or two is handy. My wee Rowan didn't mind at all being man (girl) handled on to the boat. Its a hardy mountain sort after all use to growing in quite exposed places so I'm hoping he likes his new home. But, back to the adventure of the day  -  it started with a boat ride (after wrestling said Rowan into a very, very small car). If you ever find the need, trees happily travel by car, fellow passengers, not so much.

Ferry to Graemsay

I'm often asked what its like being on a ferry. Well truth be told, we hop on and off them a bit like trains or buses. And, to be fair that's what they are I guess, public transport of the water rather than the rails. This boat is quite wee and has 'inside' and outside spaces to sit and enjoy the trip. But like any commuting, I guess after a while you just get use to it. Leaving Orkney soon, my ferry rides will be few and far between although they've been a huge factor of life both here and when we lived on our farm in the west on Colonsay. I like boats but I'm a rubbish sailor. There's something ironic there isn't there? Anyway back to this particular trip. The Rowan and I were very excited to be on the boat and to be going to see Sian and her chooks and her garden. I'd told the Rowan it was very nice over there, he was very excited. Oddly he was a HE, don't ask me why, pink berries and all, he was just male.

Rowan waiting to leave dock to Graemsay

Rowans are generally friendly sorts of trees, they are often planted in Scots gardens as they have a history of warding off evil spirits and keeping their 'kin' in their homes safe and sound, or so they say. Berries make a fine jelly too, so its a hardy productive wee beastie. We, the Rowan and I, sat by the window inside (no nasty salt air for us) and near the coffee machine, just incase we needed one. And, we enjoyed the view. Ferries in the summer daytime are often frequented by locals and tourists on trips and adventures. Locals you can spot a mile off (generally not travelling with trees but with 'the messages' (shopping) or children. Visitors and adventurers you can also often spot, sometimes their socks give it away. 

Visitors socks

I've never really got the 'tuck the socks into the trousers' bit of adventuring but I admire those who do.  It also gives the world a chance to check out your socks *always important.

More visitors socks

Mostly you can tell the adventurers quite quickly, they, like me are excited to be on a boat, but they don't carry rowans with them on their adventures which gives them away too. I'm thinking the 'messages' the Rowan and the bag of tools gave my game away. That and the fact I read to the Rowan all the way over, peeking out at the view from time to time. As bonnie as this ferry ride is I rather like the 45 minutes of complete quiet and unplugged life that is a ferry ride, so I often take the time to indulge in some reading, just for me (and the Rowan this time of course).

The WEDDING and everyday wear wellies.

I also wasn't exposing my rather fine, if very odd, socks. Although the posh 'wedding' wellies did get an airing. After all wellies are for everyday life,  not just for weddings you know. And, having rehomed dear Rowan and helped to plant a puckle of other trees too, they were a LOT muddier on the way home. I was reminded the last time Sian saw said boots I wore a frock. I thought better of it for planting trees today. I left a very happy Rowan tucked in the ley of the high walls of its new home, in a lovely sheltered spot, where it could spy the ferry (if it should so wish) dashing back and forth from the mainland to its new home.

I should note there were a serious lack of chickens helping in the garden during my visit. Most unusual for Sian's garden, but thankfully 'Button' the cat supervised the planting for most of the day.

Epilogue - Some recent feedback (from a rather fun and quite enlightening interview) suggested, currently, I was less than 'horticulturally focussed' than some of the other candidates. I was a bit shocked to be honest, if they'd opened my head up they'd have seen it awash with plants, mud and compost and my blood (if asked for) as green as a decent chloroplasted beast. I mean, really, how much more horticulturally focussed do you need to be aside taking trees on ferries in yer wedding wellies. 

*walks off shaking composty, tree twig ridden, lichen infested, head*

On catching feral rhubarb

Contraband rhubarb

So, I'm minding my business early on Saturday morning as I find myself in need of an extra stick or two of rhubarb for work. I'm sure you often find yourself in a similar rhubarb-less situation early on weekend work days too, so you'll be aware of the issue. No? Really? OK, just me then. Well bearing in mind I had an early ferry to catch, I had to improvise. I'd rung a local pal, who was all out of the pink stuff, so I had to get my thinking cap on.

Anyway picture the scene, you've a lot on and you've little time to do it before you catch a ferry to another island to present a wee workshop, rhubarb of course, what else at this time of year. So you have a brainwave as you pack the car about the patch of 'feral rhubarb' just outside of your village. You know the patch, the one that's just beyond the village by the side of the road at the end of an old abandoned garden, house long derelict. Perfect you think, accessible and on the way. This has all the makings of a cunning plan don't you think?

So, on a crisp clear Saturday morning and just before 9 am you head out car packed for your adventure to foreign lands enroute to rhubarb central. You know, minding your own business and hoping to be quick, efficient and to get to the next part of your day without much delay.

I amble along, radio on, toward the 'feral' rhubarb patch. Mindful that one stalk will do but two would be perfect. Stopping carefully just off the road in the old drive I nip out and pilfer forage for a stalk or two of the pinky-goodness that is early crop rhubarb. The skies are clear and the patch is forthcoming. I stand with my two stalks like an air traffic controller guiding a plane in. Very pleased I was with my foraging too.

The thing I didn't factor is this, its a busy island this land that I live in, so within moments of stopping and successfully foraging some sweet stalks a car slows and pulls in beside me. 

I panic. Whilst I know this patch well, the house abandoned, the rhubarb at the edge of the boundary, for all intensive purposes, wild (ish) and therefore game for a bit of a forage in my mind.

The lady gets out. In fear of 'the jail' or at least a good telling off for helping myself to her aunty/mother/grannie/grandads/2ndcousins rhubarb - I put the rhubarb gently behind my back (nothing to see here) - it lollops behind me like rabbits floppy lugs - bear in mind I'm not very tall and the rhubarb is ample, to say the least. At best I look like a lunatic with green floppy ears, at worst, I've a bad case of 'rhubarb lugs'.

'All OK?' she ventures - nodding towards the car, hazards blinking and screaming away like sirens. My comedic ears, potentially invisible, I hoped not!?

'Great, all good, just needed a couple of these' I smile, sheepishly pulling the rhubarb 'lugs' from behind me. 

'Grand patch that one, glad you're OK' she laughs, turns and heads back to her car. I thank her for her concern, my cheeks the colour of rhubarb myself, pink and shiny.

As I'm getting the 'stolen goods' foraged rhubarb stalks, into the back of the car, a second car slows - the window winding down - I mouth the words 'rhubarb' pointing to the patch, (now almost famous) -- they smile and drive on.

As the third car approaches, its slows and I smile, my best, 'yes I'm robbing a rhubarb patch'  'foraging rhubarb this early' smile. Hand back into boot - I hold out the stick waggling its contraband for all to see.

Two thumbs up and a huge smile from the cars passenger - they sped up and go past.

Now, you've got to love a place where if you're stopped by a wee nook at the side of the road, for less than the time it takes you to wrestle two rhubarb stalks from a giant abandoned patch, folks take the time to stop to check you're OK.

'Twas only when I got into the car, seeing myself branded to the hilt in my 'work' clobber that I realised that my upandcoming workshop wasn't just being advertised on the radio this fine morning. I did a fine personal appearance and bit of local advertising, (rhubarb leaf lugs and all), myself.

You'll likely see me on news at ten before the weeks out. Ach well, its not as if you can buy the stuff here in the shops, so when caught short. even for work, the only option is a wee forage after all. Does that sound like a viable defence? Or more like a 'crime of passion' - it was rather tasty after all.

On stopping haivering. (Subtext - Aye right, like that's an option)

I don't take my dog by rail, but I do often take him to work. He's well versed in flowers after all.

A happy good day to you. Its been a pondersome week in the McFlowers household, so you'll excuse the reflective thoughts, but you might be surprised that I do have them. I've been pondering the fate of my blog and haivers once we've flitted 'sooth' and things like 'taking your dog on a train' becomes an actual option. 

Regarding the blog, do I keep going, do I stop, do I restart a new blog or do I just abandon all heart and give your poor eyeballs a rest? I just don't know. Now those of you who are fortunate enough to have only recently discovered my haivers, may not know that this blog use to have a different name. It use to be called 'The Wind and the Willows', no offence to the original fine book by Kenneth Grahame, but I use to work in a willow plot and its a tad windy up here. Hence the play of words. So in a ponderous mood, I took myself and the hounds up to the plots where I spent many a long hour for 4 years doing researching the botanical, environmental and practical merits of willow (Salix sp.), all 13 hybrid clones of them, were indeed a viable SRC biomass fuel crop for Orkney.

SRC willow bundles and crop in Orkney.

It's funny going back into an 'old' part of your life isn't it, its like a dream somehow, whilst I have a lab coat and everything, so I know I didn't make it up. The children also shudder when the words 'can you help in the willow plots today' is mentioned, so I guess it was a real 'family' experience! Whilst the willow crops aren't having so much active research at the moment, they're still there sitting overlooking Kirkwall growing away being measured and recorded and pondered still. These particular plots are cut on a short cropping cycle, (hence the name) so it gets from ground level (10 cm) to 5m in about 3 years, multiple stems mean that you get alot of 'wood crop' from a small area, in America is has the nickname 'Silage wood' which is kind of appropriate I think. In fact they reckon the average UK household's entire energy use could come from a 0.7ha area, although in Orkney and the windier isles of Scotland, that's more likely nearer 1 ha, due to reduced (but remarkably good) yields and increased need for heat in more isolated households. 

SRC willow Kirkwall, Muddisdale.

So those of us who have solid fuel stoves would also do well to grow some around the edges of our plots to supplement the fuel we use quite nicely. I think realistically that's how it will work best in Orkney where wood is so scarce, its like, erm, well, wood really. And, to be honest in many other gardens I think the addition of a wood patch/willow or other suited species coppice would really help reduce our dependency on external fuels if you have a stove. Its also a rather brilliant windbreak and establishes quickly in even the windiest of spots. OK so the yields aren't as good as some more sheltered mainland areas, but lets face facts, Orkney isn't exactly forested is it? So a quick growing wood crop which is good for birds, wildlife and warms your toes, gets my vote for small scale production. Peedie of course concurs, he's a solid botanical research sort (in more ways than one) but he doesn't like to talk about his ACTUAL research much, people tend to glaze over when he talks about plants (again) and how fabulous they are (again). I know that feeling well!

Three year old SRC in Orkney, around 5m tall.

Its also quite nice to be able walk about thinking and also to get under a canopy too. Doesn't happen here that much. Whilst I pondered on and said hello to all 13 hybrids, yes by name, I still rather remarkably know them all, the hounds plodded about. Peedie (a much experienced SRC biomass research hound) was not as excited as Haggis, this being his first time to a full sized research plot. However, they both agreed that whilst they liked the taller willow, it was much easier to chase rabbits and voles in the newly cut back plots and oyster catchers and bark at noisy skylarks. 

Hounds of biomass research, chasing rabbits and the indigenous Orkney vole.

They chased and I pondered some more. I began writing this blog, on finding out I was diagnosed with dyslexia, it was a bit of 'therapy' during my thesis writing (yes it exists, not for the faint hearted but an excellent sleep antidote) to help me just write and to come to terms with things I'd not quite fathomed, like why I haivered (yes really) and why I couldn't really read very well outloud, so I 'came clean'. Yes poor reader it was 'recommended' that I write to help get the word out, which as it proved was a great therapy for me, not so good I'm afraid for your eyeballs. So whilst it began as a 'Wind and the Willows' it mutated happily into 'The Wind and the Wellies' as more of our home life was nattered about and wellies feature as prominently as the wind here. 

Seemed to make sense, as chooks and cooking and other life surprises emerged, happily chittering about them on here has become a way of life. So does that stop when we move? Does the blogging stop when we move? I hope not. Its become a nice way of documenting things and a lovely way to connect with people.

Einstien and the lasses

Like I say its been a reflective week and often I get the chance to go and say hello to my chooks, who now live over in a large garden in the west mainland of Orkney with a friend. 

The flock and a runner duck, runner not rubber.

There is no garden at the current wee house (which I know is a travesty, but needs must when young ladies need access to school buses). I also do a fair bit of gardening through work so it wasn't all sacrifice. However the chooks did go and live elsewhere and whilst I know they are happy, I miss them and try and peek at them (like a mad chicken stalker lady) once a week or so. Einstien (probably the daftest cockeral in the world) still guards his ladies, and tips his head in a wee nod when I pop by.

 

As you can see they're very happy, they've inherited an Indian Runner duck as a chum and clearly like a good game of footy too. I'm glad to see them so happy, whilst we'll have new chooks when we relocate, these are staying here, happy in their lovely home. And I know one day we'll get back to our own version of 'Free range living' which is just great. Whilst I'll miss Orkney dreadfully, and our adventures, I'm looking forward to hens and a garden and beaches and all the things we have here, just closer to family and some old friends.

Enough of these haivers and my revisiting old haunts and chooks, my main thread of thought, was regarding keeping the blog?  

I'm swapping one set of coastline for another. One part of windy Scotland for another equally windy region. One set of living for another, which will have an ample garden for frolicks and exploits, a kitchen to cook in and a fire to feed with wood. And of course, there will always be wellies.

As we've just put in an offer on a wee hoose, in the East Neuk of Fife, (home to fine beaches, food (the best fish and chips in the UK) and many bonnie gardens) I hope the answer is yes you'll join us on that particular adventure too when it gets finalised? I hope you might.

In the mean time, its a packing and working and decluttering frenzy here. Who'd have known I was so good at yielding a cloot when I needed too? And I could actually take the lid off a tub of brasso if needed? Not me. But I won't be adding handle polishing to my CV anytime soon, its hard work!

A handle from an old 14 drawer dresser rescued from The Commercial Hotel, Stromness which might have been a 'sweetie' cupboard a long time ago in a sweet making shop.

Newly polished handle, awaiting removal so I can sand the drawers (did I say there are 14 of them?) - I may be some time.

And, so if none of you object, I've a mind too, if I may, to keep on going and keep on haivering? There is likely to be more gardening right enough, but the same amount of stomping on beaches and frenzied scoffing I'm sure.

I've met some fabulous friends doing this haivering malarkay and quite frankly I'd like to keep them.

Anyways, as if I'd be able to stop. 

Haivering that is.

Tattie Nirvana

There's a certain time of year in Orkney when there's a real buzz in the air, folks are out ploughing as the sun peeks out now and again, between the squalls. 

And, like every good thing that comes to those who wait, the seed tatties arrive in William Shearer's wonderful shop in Kirkwall. (Most of us do a wee dance in our wellyboots. Yes, really.) 

It's actually one of the bonniest sights on the planet - a whole room full to bursting with so many types of seed tatties. And, so many in fact they produce a catalogue every year.  This year's one is pink (I knew you were wondering)......and its full of so much great information on the varieties of tatties and their history too.

Never has a new season's catalogue ever been so waited for, this year its electronic too! 

And as for the actual shop once the tatties arrive you'll see many of us walking in and out of the 'back shop' of this particular shop, you know, just for a look. Who would have known Tattie Nirvana existed in real life, here in Orkney.  In real life they really should put a wee coffee machine in there for us tattie enthusiasts to have a wee sit and take in the ambiance.

It's early season tattie chitting time! And, I for one, cannae wait. As it also means, even up here, its time to think about getting out in the garden, or spending soggy days leafing through tattie catalogues thinking about the season ahead. Now, we all know that I'll probably only grow King Edwards and some Pink Fir Apples in tubs this year, but it doesn't stop a girl dreaming of all those other delightful varieties!

Pink Fir Apple Tatties, a right bonnie eater.

And as for Shearer's - probably the best shop in the universe since 1857.  On the main page of the website you can have a wee 'virtual look' around its delights.

Website here and yes it sells everything from sushi rice to seeds to bannocks, butter to waders, coo's lug dog chews to an assortment of fishing, gardening, farming and gaming products. The whole place is just epic, if you need it, its probably in Shearer's.

Open 9am-5.30pm Mon-Sat. Sensibly closed on Sundays.

They've a facebook page here if like me you love them too!

You got a favourite old fashioned shop that's just buzzing at most times of the year?

And the sun shone (finally)

So as we walked along the cliffs for miles, off came the boots. Good day, amazing what a bit of sun does for the soul (and the toes). First paddle of the year. And no the socks never match, life's too short.

My handing 'walking app' tells me we've walked a goodly 13.97 miles this week. No wonder my legs feel shorter! Free exercise is always grand. :-) nice to have the weather to enjoy it!

NOT Chelsea, our local garden exhibition

I had the good fortune to shelter from the mad May gales last weekend and attend (for work) the local annual garden show. Whilst it was on at the same time as Chelsea, its not really the same kind of affair. Mair wellies covered in cloots and overalls than your average garden show punter doon sooth I'll bet.

 

Whilst there's no judging, or display gardens, or giant vegetables, there's a good few plant stalls right enough (I think perhaps a conservative estimate would be SIX). We don't like to over populate the place with horticulturalists either, they'd just end up collectively gathering in a potting shed forming protests about the weather. And, aside the protesting horti's we like to keep our plant choices most sensible here, so you'll not see many tropical gardens or tender perennials up for sale looking lush and lavish. Folks here are just too honest and the faces are too well kent (known) to be selling plants that just won't grow here. So when asked 'will that grow here?' the seller will be nothing but honest, you probably bide (live) near several of his rellies and his granny. No one really wins if you're sold the wrong plant for the climate. specialising in mainly perennial hardy shrubs and flowers, aplines (mostly primula's), hardy veg, herbs and flownsy, blousy annuals (for the more sheltered spot).

 

So aside a wee puckle of sensible plants, there's not much comparison with Chelsea. However, if you can see by the plants, there is a real treat. MOWERS. Lovely shiny, fab looking, just want one or I'd die, mowers.

 Plenty of the chat in Orkney tends to involve mowers/grass and well, mowing. So there are always plenty of shiny things for sale at these shows up here, not exactly Chelsea but hey you cut your cloth to suit your self. Grass GROWS well here, so mowers are this (and last and the season before's) must have item. In a place where the grass never really stops growing, a good mower is worth its weight in silage.

 

However I did not buy one.

 I was good.

I hope you're proud of me. 

I stepped away from the mowers.

 

I did this rather sensible act for a couple of reasons. Firstly I HAVE a mower (the type is RED, I'm a girl after all) and a rather fabulous trailer (nestled in the garage for the new house), which I swapped for a months grass cutting, with a piano (which I don't use for grass cutting, the cellist also refuses to play whilst I mow). Secondly I currently have no grass in my tiny cottage with a divan sized front garden, which means one is a luxury I can't really explain, two is a bit, well, 'collectorish'. Its not exactly a fetish my mower addiction, but I'll leave it at the one big sit on one, hiding in the shed for the moment. People would talk.

 

Now aside all the mowers, delicious food from the 'Mart Cafe' and plants (which will survive here) I was actually working. We had a composting display and managed to sneak in a few things about recycling too. Like plant labels. Now we can't recycle plastic tubs where I live, its the 'wrong' type of plastic. However, a lovely lady showed me a fabulous way to make labels from old tubs.

Now, I know this isn't the kind of thing you're likely to see at Chelsea either, but hey if it saves you money, reduces plastic into landfill, why not make your own labels too?

You don't actually have to take them to Chelsea either, I don't think they'd really fit in.

Although on seeing the bothy garden created with Shetland stone at Chelsea link here (photograph no 7, thanks GP), there might be a few snuck in there from the old crofters, who never threw anything out. Canny lot those crofters.

Haggis and tatties goes arty - when a blog lands on the wrong page.

[Edited in. It was bound to happen soon, as I'm changing parts of my long standing badly written rambles about life in the wind, I'm in the process of changing elements of my blog to continue it long after we leave Orkney. So I'd decided to dedicate my rambles and havers on food to a blog of its own. This Wee Lass Eats. Whilst I'm a dab hand at both eating and love cooking, it seemed to make sense. However, it would seem I'm about a useful as a chocolate teapot with a smart phone, it was only a matter of time before I posted some food related rambling in this space. So I'm sorry about that. If you do want to read about someone's daily obsession with food do join me over there. I can  only guarantee, its more 'hearty eating' than fine dining, but that's OK. I think so much of Scottish food in all its genres gets a bad rap on occassion so, I'm on a journey of self indulgence to eat my way round Scotland and beyond!

 

 I've been inspired by many lovely food blogs like Luffy's 'Tosh and Tomatoes',  Wendy at the gorgeous 'A wee bit of cooking',  'Tinned Tomatoes' by Jacequline and to name but a few Shaheen at 'Allotment2Kitchen'.  Now I can't promise I'll be anywhere near as great as these guys, but I love my grub and this wee lass eats. Join me over there if you fancy, and do recommend more interesting food bloggers, I've only mentioned a few of my favourites over here. I'm looking forward to hearing more. I'll tell you more about changes to my gardening focus when I've stopped scoffing.

 

So this post doesn't really belong here - its from 'This Wee Lass Eats', aplogies for cross posting and inept thumbs on smart phones. Not so smart now eh?] - Editing myself out!

 

As it still feels like the depths of winter here in the frozen north, comfort food beckons. Now you can't get more comfort food than haggis and tatties (mashed

Potatoes). This version was beautifully presented with a whisky sauce given the presentation you can see it was cooked by someone else. So its in the 'eating out' category of life. I'm not known for my culinary artwork. I'm more the eating before its ready type.

So if you fancy quenelles of tattie and haggis delightfully adorned with micro salad shoots,on a plate, try The Kirkwall Hotel. Their menu never fails to deliver, even when serving up this classic.

 

And for main, monkfish, roast pepper sweet and sour glaze with a chorizo, spinach and tattie mash. Now, I'd like to tell you this was amazing, but I could only drool at my partner in crimes plate. Too quickly devoured to get a photo of this modern take on humble monkfish, it was THAT good.

 

Compliments to the chef!

 

Until next time, whether its old comforts or modern twists, happy scoffing.

Stalking snowdrops, wild neeps and other extreme horticultural activities.

In exciting news today after the torture of physio on my poor leg, I was given the heads up to walk 'off road' and even get out on my bike again on flat surfaces. Yay. We (the mutts and I) celebrated with a long clifftop walk and a scamp around the headland beside the Broch o' Gurness towards Tingwall, re continuing the attempt at walking the entire Orkney coast. 

 

And, in celebration of the newly freed leg, the sun shone. It knew it was a good day. The Peedie pup watched the Broch in case any local archaeology tried anything sneaky. There's so much archaeology here in Orkney, we do think it multiplies when no ones watching. With this in mind, when near to old stones and habitations, he keeps a canny eye.

 

When about to embark on leaving the local surgery, prior to the actual off road 'scampage' the lovely physio asked me if I indulged in many 'extreme' activities aside when breaking myself skiing.

 

I thought long and hard. Best to be honest I think.

 

Well, I said, I do like to sometimes grow vegetables WITH flowers, in gardening terms that can be quite EXTREME in some peoples views. She looked perplexed, so I continued, considering her to be really interested........ I'm thinking of how to grow perennials, herbs and veggies in containers this year to mix things up a bit in my small space. She looked more than a bit confused.

 

She clearly was NOT a vegetable gardener, so I thought I'd appeal to her creative flowery side as I like to grow both flowers and veggies. I'm very inclusive like that.

So I also confessed I've currently been stalking local snowdrops this week, as they're just coming out. But haven't climbed any (many!) walls yet, I said, you know until my leg was a bit better, as I didn't want to slip in the snow.

 

Well with snow drops you often need a better look OVER peoples garden walls (and to be fair I'm a bit short).......so when stalking other folks gardens I find I often need to scale tall buildings or at least the odd peedie dyke...........which can be a bit tricky in the current snow/sun/gales/snow/sun kind of weather we've been having lately.

 

She didn't look impressed at all, not that I think she doesn't like snowdrops, but, no wall climbing I was told. Gentle exercise only, no attempts at kneeling either, nothing extreme.  To be honest I don't find ANY exercise very gentle and currently I find kneeling highly overrated, it hurts.

 

So, I got my coat, not that it was needed today as it was gorgeous and headed straight to the beach, extreme gardening of any form clearly being off the cards for the moment. Thankfully she said nothing about NOT climbing fences, beside cliffs, to get photos of wild Orkney neeps, still in hibernation, beside the sea. The sheep on the hilltop keep a canny watch, hiding under their towering wind turbines.

Gardening or snowdrop or wild Orkney neep stalking, it would seem, isn't an extreme activity in some peoples eyes. Hopefully I'll get my wall climbing pass back soon, plenty more snow drops to find.

 

As for the wild neep stalking over fences, we'll just keep between us. They, (the fences) were more than a bit shoogly (wobbly) to be telling the nice lady physio about. I don't want my fence climbing pass taken away too.

 

Nice field of wild Orkney neeps though, basking in the February sunshine, languishing dormant before they head off north to Sweden on their annual pilgrimage back to the homelands for annual ritual of self seeding...........

 

 

 

 

 

Wild Haggis romp on Orkney Beaches

This handsome young man languishing on a flagstone in the kelp is celebrating his birthday this week. Haggis is a VERY wild variety of Cairn Terrier, as yet pretty untamed and more than a bit pesky, he suits his name. He likes a game of hide and seek with his Uncle Peedie (the older dog here) when he's out............and he's particularly hard to find in kelp strewn beaches. Could you find him?

He's right there in the middle........I've put a star around him.......

Haggis is great at hunkering down on a rock, stalking his very much loved Uncle Peedie, the older Cairn Terrier. Uncle Peedie is not a fan of the stalking and jumping out game. Not at all. Haggis on the other hand loves it.

He waits like a cat in attack mode to jump on Uncle Peedies head. Uncle Peedie doesn't like that much either.

In fact, if given the choice Uncle Peedie wouldn't play this game at all. Often he just turns his back and walks away.

 Haggis, being a newly turned 'One year old' pup - doesn't mind. He just runs ahead and starts again. Bless him. He's quite a dedicated little pup, he just keeps trying.  Thankfully the beaches are full of kelp - or tangles as they call them up here, so Haggis has plenty places to hide. Uncle Peedie spends much of his time walking in circles to avoid attacking Haggi's. Oh well can't please everyone can you?

 

Happy Birthday Haggis you're a bit bigger than when you arrived - barely bigger than an envelope!

Happy Birthday Haggis.

(Who's also known as Hagar the Horrible here)

 

(And The Kraken)

 

 

 (And several other names that mischievous puppies often have when they constantly attack and jump all over you)

And his birthday present. I thought it only fitting to buy him some reduced packets daffodil bulbs, 'Tete a Tete' - seemed only fitting given his love of being 'Head to Head' with Uncle Peedie.......

Weather report: Wear Jumpers

The lady on the Radio today, when asked for the forecast simply stated 'Wear jumpers and something waterproof'. Enough said really. After a series of rather blustery days, its reassurring to know that these will be continuing. Now, those of you whom are not strangers to my ramblings will know a high degree of weather related moaning generally accompaines photographs. So, you'll be glad to know today is no exception.

Having been awake for what seemed like the entire night with the roof rattling like something out of the Wizard of Oz, feeling a bit more like Dorothy, again. it seemed that wrapping up did seem in order today. With an afternoon free, despite the warnings of jumpers being required and waterproofs, I decided it was only fair to do a bit of wave hunting, between the squalls. So I wrapped up!

The west side of the island is notoriously rugged and is peppered with a series of large sea cliffs and bays nestled between. Whilst if I'm honest I'd have preferred to go to my favourite spot at Yesnaby and walk along the cliffs watching waves, I'm not supposed to be walking 'off road'. I promised the Dr. So I headed out the the Bay of Skaill, which is where Skara Brae lurks at the south side of this bay.

Given its rocky too I can't walk there either, but it was fine to sit a while a look at the waves crashing about.

Big seas, excuse those more out of focus photographs, I am firmly blaming the wind and the optical digital zoom on the camera being maxed out, but you get the idea. The sea is big today, well worth a look.

I carried on up the northern west coast towards Birsay Bay, where Bob grows his tomatoes under a fine array of glasshouses, nested safely behind sand dunes by the shore. And, its up for sale.......details here.  Unfortunately I went past a house where the fence had been ripped from the ground, wind netting and all. Poor chap, I hope he doesn't lose heart. The winds unkind to gardeners here. But still we try.

A favourite place to wave watch is out by the northwest just passed the tiny village of Birsay, overlooking the Brough of Birsay.

Now we've been here many times, but its always breathtaking to see a stormy sea here whatever the time of year - it can be stormy here in summer too.

So we had a bit of a wander and were watching waves crashing over cliffs.

The footpath. whilst very wet, was flat and kind to those with a dodgy leg, here she is, that dodgy-legged person who's seeing the surgeon tomorrow.  She's also wearing Mr Flowers hat and the longest scarf in the universe. But shh, don't tell him.

And, we watched the waves a while until our cheeks stung with the rain and our fingers went numb and we could hardly stand up against the wind any more. Time for home I think! And what's better than a nice warm sit in front of the fire? Well there's room for all of us..if only Peedie would move over and stop thinking about last time we had adventures with puffins on the same cliffs.

Or perhaps a snuggle on the sofa........Haggis is a fan of the flowery cushions, there's a promising career ahead of him I think.

And as the wind whistles down the chimney, the doors whistle and the windows rattle. We're nice and cosy inside, you see all that free wood in the shape of square logs I chop comes in handy!

Keep warm if you've got bad weather and until next time - remember heed the advice of the lady on the Radio 'Wear jumpers and something waterproof'!

 

And if you'd like to visit another local blog, often besieged with our local weather. Please pop over and visit Sian who's currently most likely, like the rest of us, hibernating, due to bad weather!

And a hearty hello to those extra followers we've picked up along the way. Nice for you to pop along and see us. Don't be shy leave a comment and introduce yourself and your blogs - for those of you who do partake in blogging, thanks for linking in here your blogs are really interesting! Tell us more about yourself..........Whilst the page views are great - be nice to hear from more of you when you've time! x