Indoor herb garden

Fantastic indoor herb garden display.

Basil flavoured tea....

Whilst an inspiring idea, not sure I entirely trust the chef. Whilst the herb idea is grand, I'm thinking I don't like the look of the oregano 'dish of the day'!

Recycled containers and a sunny shelf make for a lovely edible indoor garden. Fab.

Seven Days - Holidays, Hounds, Harebells and Glaciers

So as always inspired by Jacqui, The Barefoot Crofter - here's the last seven days. As we got ourselves ready to set off on our holidays, the hounds packed up and left to visit their lovely Aunty C. Not only a chef extraordinaire probably the lady with the biggest heart I've ever met. I hear whilst Peedie left his bag (he's famous having been sponsored by a leading dog company before mind on.......) I know they've settled in well. Although life down south is proving to be a bit fragrant for Aunty C as the water change affects Peedies innards someat awful. So we went off on an adventure. As well as being a Rock God, TRG is a mountainer, I certainly know how to pick them eh? 

We headed for the alps and all things alpine. A revisit for TRG to his much loved mountains of holiday of his childhood. The mountains were indeed impressive we reached the 'Top of Europe' with its glaciers spilling over the mountain tops and alpine choughs eating out of your hands. On the top of one we even found a botanic garden with 600 species shrouded in mist. It seems mist happens a,lot in the high mountains, they seem to like their clouds close to hand rather than up in the air. 

I have to say I've never really been a fan of mountains, they're impressive and all that but they hurt my legs when I climb them. These mountains however were ingenious, they had trains and cable cars going up them. I certainly approve of that. They also have good fun names like Schynige Platte, which of course I instantly turned into 'Sniggle piggle'. My German is coming along quite nicely let me tell you.  Next time I'll pop in some photos of the actual mountains once I borrow them from TRG. I came home, as always from holidays with not much aside photos of flowers. But, I guess you'd expect that of me.

Campanula alpestris 

So we walked on ridges and around alpine lakes looking out to the Eiger. And, like the true flower person I claim to be I took photos of wee flowers like this bonnie alpine campanula.

Lobelia at Schyngge Platte. A great way to display a wee beauty in a small space or on a table outdoors.

And we took time to look bonnie lobelia's in jars at the cafe on top of the mountain. Lets be fair here just cos we're mountaineering, doesn't mean standards slip.

And just cos you might think we could have taken all these photos in a garden centre heres a shot from half way down the mountain in a train. A most sensible way to climb up very large Alps, I'd say. So we took our trusty cup for tea home to Scotland. Remembering all the fun train rides, glacier looking and flower spotting when away.

Home to lots of eggs and visitors looking after the hens. Lots of eggs and visitors can only mean one thing.

Of course it had to be a pavlova. So when TRG has given me access to the 'proper' alpine photos, I'll let you have a neb (look) at those. Until then, there's plenty pavlova left, grab a plate. Just don't mention it to the hounds, they're not back yet. Our little secret, right. And, its time for breakfast, perhaps a wee bit just to help get it finished!

'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*

Catch the rain - Hinderayre Bay, Orkney

I just love the light at this time of year, the late afternoon sunlight caught the raindrops pattering down like streaks of silver threads. I swear you could almost catch it.

 

Another 3 miles of Orkney coast walked from the Bay of Hinderayre northwards - as I want to walk the whole of the accessible Orkney coastline before I leave, I've a fair bit to go, best get a wriggle on hadn't I.

 

Dear technical support.

Whilst I'm marking my paper map with all the coast in Orkney I've walked it would be really good to do that on an interactive map. Any ideas you map guru types? I'm happy I can read a map, and don't have a smart phone, its only of average intelligence, so I'll input my routes manually........ 
Answers or suggestions on a post card please - or just leave a wee comment. I'd be really chuffed if I could get a map up and fathom out how many miles I've left to walk!

 

Many thanks in advance.

The start of my rather wobbly map should be here
Thank you Mr K.
 

The humble Orkney sycamore tries hard.

Sycamore in autumn, Orkney

Look can you see it? The trees here are trying so hard to put on a show for us. Its time for autumn to hit the local sycamores (Acer pseudoplantanus, to you botanist types) and colour them up. Peer hard and lean in really close, here in Orkney, we're ablaze with autumn colour. Ok, squint real hard and imagine this IS a blaze of colour. Its TRYING. Trying really hard. I focused my inner colour and helped it along, but I'm not sure I made much difference. Unless crispy brown was the look I was after. I don't think after a couple of gales and a bit of snow, its up for much more. Poor leaves, best shed them and go to sleep Mr tree.

 

Sycamores are often the largest tree you'll see in Orkney, they're really tolerant to wind and salt. Whilst there's a lot of chat for those 'in the know' about whether or not this is a 'native' or an 'introduction' way back in Celtic times, who are we to say. The main thing is that they make 'real (ish) tree' sized trees here, whilst some argue their monotony is bland, I rather like thier tenacity. Hey its a tree, here that's quite an acheivement in our gales and soggy soils. 

Orkney sycamore, leaves attempting autumn tones, with salty wind burnt edges.

So we can embrace its humble attempts at resplendant autumnal glory. See past the gale induced shrivelled brown edges, and bask in its last stand of hues and colours before those nasty pesky winds rip their leaves from them forever. Life in Orkney is resiliant, so fear not, autumnal help is at hand, here come the lichens to save the day.........you can always rely on a pesky algae+fungi miscreant to muscle in, can't you? I like to think of lichens as the sea (aglae) meeting the forest (fungi), and having a party, quite fitting in Orkney I think.

 

How beautiful are they? A beautiful 'collective' splendid show here on Jenny's tree. Who say's cat sitting doesn't pay, I was able to stalk her trees whilst she was away and feast on lichens.

A riot of Orkney lichens

Whilst they're quietly here all the time, once the leaves depart in a (mini) blaze of glory, the rich colours of the lichens take centre stage. Am I right? I do hope so, I do like to see a good collective of lichens rampaging about the place. Keep up the good work miscreant symbiants. Lichens are awesome, a rather cunning partnership of algae and fungi growing in perfect harmony together. Sometimes cynobacteria come to the party too, but its a bit early for talking about bacteria I think.

Lichens in all their wonderful forms.

Lichens come in all shapes and sizes from miniture tree like (fruitcose), tree hugging (foliose), rock/tree clinging (crustose) and a few other types, fascinating little things. I've no idea how they all manage to fit inside those tiny colourful patches (microscope generally required). So, to all fit in such a tiny space, I'm assuming they take shifts or time share or are just REALLY good chums. And, they do really good colour! But I'll stop now, or you'll think I'm attempting to be a lichenologist, which I'm not.

Lichens colourfully resplendent in Islay - Image from this website, from a few old chums.

So to leave the lichens alone, and let the Orkney trees sleep, most of us take a trip 'sooth' at this time of year and goggle at trees a blaze with the same tenacity the hardy local sycamores try to. However whilst we might have to peer for autumn colour in Orkney, on the mainland, unfettered by gales, and a cooler end of season climate, they (the trees) tend to be a bit more flownsy and become 'boldly' dressed in their autumnal glad rags. I do like a tree in a good glad rag mood, its just so jolly. So those of us more 'northerly challenged' often head down the A9 through Perthshire's 'Big Tree Country' is one of the most stunning sights at this time of year. And if colour is what you're after this is of our favourite 'tree fix spots'  one of my favourite places, its the home of The Hermitage. [Mr K the rings are bought......., I just need a suitable frock to match my wellies and a strong rake for my hair.]

The Hermitage, trees showing a bit more autumn colour

So if you see many a car with a person appearing to be feasting on trees at this time of year, (look for lots of pointing and gawping at trees) it might be one of us 'islanders' escaping for a bit of a tree fix. We did this last weekend. And it was great, thank you nature. We also found trees being 'bold' in Edinburgh when we trundled slightly further south. Cities are cunning, their trees hide by buildings. Very cunning indeed you hardly notice them at all  they just kind of lurk until they turn all autumal and shouty. That one is about to get a 'ticket' from the boldly coloured chap polishing cars (!) for being so colourful. He's just jealous that tree is far bonnier than him.

An Edinburgh tree lurking in secret, I'd like to say it was a sycamore, but sadly I never got close enough to introduce myself.

Our trip had nothing at all to do with the manchild reaching 18 and requiring accompanying to a dim sum feast in Edinburgh. If you happen to be hungry in Edinburgh, head for Siagon Siagon. They do exceedingly good dim sum.

Siagon, Siagon - Edinburgh

 Not that I had any on my tree mission, no no, see my bowl is empty, not a dim sum in sight. It was absolutely ALL about the trees. See there's another one hiding in Princes St Gardens. No ones noticed it yet, its not gone all glam and aumtumnal yet. Just wait, they'll spot it soon, or given the 'tram' craziness going on, it might just get away with glamming up in full autumn colour in broad daylight. The place is chaos, no ones noticed the trees further down shimmering in yellow, they're just walking on by. You see tram chaos is good for the trees.

Trees lurking in Princes St Gardens, Edinburgh

And now that we've seen several hundred fold mainland tree species (including some slightly more showy sycamores than the Orkney's beasts) reseplendent in their autumn colour (breifly) for this year, we've headed home. Whilst the humble Orkney sycamores slowly fall asleep, exhausted by their exertions this autumn I think we'll all agree they attempted to produce a fine show for us, prior to slumber which no doubt will follow another gale robbing them bare. Then they can then allow the lichens to shine whilst they take a well earned rest from the winter gales. In the mean time I'll continue to admire the lichens or maybe I'll be hiding in the colourful bracken, pretending I'm a giant surrounded by the rich autumn colour of their fronds, akin to a taspestry of trees on the hill side, colouring up nicely for us.

Autumnal bracken, Rackwick, Hoy, Orkney

I must get a better coloured hat, but the pigtails work well I think.

 

And what am I hoping you take from this ramble?

 

Lichens are miscreant rampant symbionts partying hard in a tiny space.

 

Orkney is perhaps not the Scottish county to come to for a riot of autumn colour. Perthshire has the edge on this one, but only just. The sycamores here try really hard. There's always next year.

LIfe abandoned due to sunshine: Newark Bay, Orkney

After a few dreich miserable days, quite unexpectedly, out popped the sun so yesterday, life was abandoned due to sunshine.  So like any good citizen, we headed to the beach. As you can see we left early to avoid the traffic, it can be hell on the roads here. As I'm on a mission to 'Live in the moment' so we went to find Newark Bay recommended by a chum........map here. 

 As always when faced with dangerous terrain the hoonds tend to form the forward party. Haggis attempting some kind of 'yoga' in the wake of Peedie's lead. That Haggis dog, I'm afraid to say, is just not right in the head, so he fits in well.

 

The obligitary beach graffiti is customary when visiting a new beach. Whilst its not quite Banskie, it will do. Always a good plug for the posh wellies too.

 Now, what I find difficult in Orkney is the crowded beaches. Sometimes its hard to find somewhere peaceful to walk. Today for instance, we passed 4 people in total, thankfully we all wandered off in different directions or it might have caused a major traffic report.

 On days such as these, it pays to wear your wellies, they get a free wash in the sea.

 And so they had a good splash. Seemed only fair, its been so dreich and dull here, nice to get out and enjoy the sunshine whlist paddling.

 There's something about big skies isn't there and a nice long walk.

 Listening to the water gently lapping in and out.

 After the gales at the weekend, the beach is strewn with kelp and other tousled seaweed, tossed high up on the shores, deep in places. Given the calm of the day, the sunshine and the lack of wind, its hard to imagine gales at the moment. I think today might be summer.

 Off in the distance a herring gull sits watching us on top of the slipway poles jutting out of the sea. You'll be glad of my rubbish photography, herring gulls are really angry looking and that would spoil the mood......its more 'romantic' from this distance.

 The sunshine dances on the water, so I of course had to join in. Only polite don't you know. Wellies looking quite clean now, which makes a nice change from all that mud.

 We reach the top of the slipway, fighting our way through deep kelp on the shore to clamber up. What an amazing view looking at where we've walked. Newark Bay gets a big tick, nice beach!

 When not working, or playing guitar Mr Flowers prefers to walk on water. He does stuff like that and likes to show off now and again.

 Whlist I attempt to drown myself taking photos of various seaweeds dancing in the shallows.

 We head back along the bay, joined by a couple of frolocksome seals. Yes, those tiny dots are seals. They were so close we heard them giggling way. We really did. But you know how seals are. One minute you see them......

 The next minute you don't. They appear to be playing with us. Curious as to our chatter and the dogs attempts at swimming don't frighten them too much.

 We walk towards The Point of Ayre - so many birds pottering about in the sunshine, we carry on past their chatter over the now rocky shoreline.

 Until its time to turn around and head back. What a perfect beach to stroll on when abandoning life, don't you think.

Another new beach walked, more coastline claimed in the great 'Bag all of Orkney's beaches' escapade I appear to be on. This weeks beaches have included Scapa, Inganess and Waulkmill which we know really well, but its nice to find a new one to explore. Thanks to Pete and Wendy for such a lovely suggestion and for the chicken lodgings, I hope you enjoy them as much as we did.

 

Walk abandonded due to sunstroke and exhaustion, life resumed, a wee bit more refreshed. Wellies clean.

On living in the moment.

Well the sun is streaming through the salt laden windows here at Windy Island HQ. But, at least its not raining in a sideways direction, lets be positive. I hope the weathers fine where you are? Not that you can see the salty windows from my 'cunning' lets not have net curtains on the main street window, but I love jars of food........so pretty and so soothing to see that you won't actually starve.

Anyway back to the point, I've been thinking lots lately (don't hold your breathe, thinking takes me ALOT of time). Anyhow, I've been very focussed on the future, as many of us are, and sometimes I think I'm not making the most of the moment and potentially wishing my time away. That's not good. I entirely blame Kininvie, (but its not his fault) - for the 'walnut' question. As I ended up thinking about how long it will take for my tree to A: grow and B: ever fruit C: do they grow in Scotland, and I found this interesting article. And that got me thinking more and more about the future which brought me swiftly back to the present.

 

Why so, all this thinking? Well, truth be told, we're OFF back to the Scottish mainland in approximately 18 months. Its always been the plan, here for school and general wind punishment and when the childerbeast fly, we head 'sooth'. [Current flight status, one flown, one 18 months left of school].

Suddenly, it would appear, the abundant years in Orkney are gradually coming to a close. Whilst I love it here, life on the mainland of Scotland will beckon soon enough, I have an inhernet need to be near to the children and that will also be such an adventure too. A life with trees and all that jazz! But, enough of that, its time to appreciate here and now. Soon these wellies won't be here in the windswept north.

Now I do generally try to 'live in the moment' myself, as a parent/person/gardener/general buffoon, its often much easier to plan what's needed done and look ahead, rather than to think - 'but what about today?', isn't it?

Or to think, 'when I'm thin/taller/more organised/etc' I'll do that, or I'll be happy if and when I've achieved XYor Z. But, dearest heart, that tiny voice in my mind tells me, 'What about now?' Indeed small voice - what about now? We're often too busy, too much to do, too lonely, too poor, too much cleaning, too, too, too. I'm fed up being 'too', to be honest, its boring.

Too much of anything is a bad thing. So I've stopped the world and decided to play it forward slowly and live 'now'. And now brought me here.

The cellist and I grasped the evil Uritca (stinging nettle for you non botanist types) by the fist and when we'd both made excuses for 'why' we couldn't head out for a walk on Saturday between work (too tired) and her social life (too busy), too far. Enough with the 'too's - so we headed off to the beach for a 'we've got an hour if we yomp it' kind of a walk.

Now I confess, I haven't been to Evie beach in ages and it was calling, so aside the dread 'too's we thought, why not. The hoonds are always happy with a good stomp, so really we had no excuse. We had a free 1hr and 10 minutes, beach 10 minutes away, therefore - to the beach we went.

If we've only got 18 months of stomping about in Orkney to do, then we best make sure we make the best of every minute here. Of the 80 odd or so islands in this archipelago, of the 15 are inhabited and I've visited 11, so at least 4 to go. And of the uninhabited, but easy to get to I've visited 5. Bit of work required there eh?  Its not like its hard work, I mean how bonnie is it here?

And, more importantly, with 500 miles of utterly amazing coastline, awesome scenery and more archaeology than a normal person can chuck a stick at, I'd better get a those wellie boots on, hadn't I? These feet need to try and get on each part of the accessible beaches/cliff tops/scenery she can.

500 miles of coastline/18 months = 27.77 miles a month, which roughly equates to 1 mile a day on a beach of my choice. Or the equivalent for time off island etc. Time to get the map out and the gold stars and start making sure we get EVERYWHERE we can.

Better get a wriggle on hadn't I? Boots out, map out. I'm going to endeavour to live in the moment whilst I'm here in Orkney and enjoy it. Not just wish it away, I know I'm lucky to be here, so we also ended up on Scapa beach, meeting a chum for a stroll.

Two beaches in three days, that's a good start!

As a final attempt to live a little more in the moment, I've finally tweeted, feel free to hunt me down and tell me I'm more twit that 'tweet'. I'll pop a link on the blog - for those keen to hear more about local leaves and wind damage, I'm your girl.

PS It must be working, in the 'ethos' of living in the moment this week I've accidentally managed to see the northern lights. I know me, who's normally fast asleep on the sofa. As I've been trying to actively manage my time, so imagine my delight when an alert came out for the Aurora borealis here - so I went off, a hunting.

Now I've not taken any of these photos - but - here's a link so some stunning ones.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-scotland-19883715

A local friend took some cracking pictures too - I'll see if I can get his permission to send a link out to them........

Until then, living life in the moment. I fear there will be blisters. Wish me luck. I hope you enjoy the present and get out into your life this week!