Things aren't always great when it rains

I hate prolonged rain.  I hate it because it produces mud, and even with twenty tonnes of hardcore laid out, we still get mud.

It makes crossing from Big Field to Middle Field a slippy, slidey affair.  There is always a good chance that you will lose your footing, and jar your spine or end up sitting on the floor.  And it isn't a nice floor, it's a squelching floor with the added sensory experience of smelling of cow crap...because let's not forget that a few months ago cattle grazed here, and each time it rains a little more of their excrement gets washed down the hill.

Mud makes getting in and out of the caravan annoying.  You have to take muddy wellies off, and most likely, you have to use your hands to pull them off, and, most likely, that mud will end up on your hands.  If you're a Small, you will solve this predicament by wiping your hands down the sides of the wall, or on someone else's coat.  

Rain is good for filling waterbuts and keeping the green, green but oh...I hate mud.

Every time there is a rainstorm, I make a note of somewhere else we need to lay a path, and then I wonder if really what I should have bought was a level Tarmac car park rather than a squelchy hillside with added poop.

So, although I am sunshine and rainbows most of the time, when it has rained for more than two days I'm afraid I become the foreteller of doom, and a teeny tiny voice in my head whispers that I am

Not cut out for this offgrid life, and I should just scuttle off back to normality.  I mean, if a bit of rain can knock me down....what will a whiner like me do when it snows??

Where we live

This is the view from further up the lane, looking back at our static, and home.

I've taken the picture from this angle because it hides the mess and tat that is very visible close up.

It's not much, but it's home.

North wind

Or to more accurate, West North West Wind.

We had a weather warning issued, so we spent most of yesterday running around making sure everything that could be secured, was.

The storm arrived in the early hours of this morning, and is the most bizarre weather event I can remember.  This storm bounces from sunny sky with brisk breezes to dark menacing skies and gales that threaten to rip off the field shelter roof.

We've been yoyo-ing back and fourth with every change, but we are a bit bored of that now, so I'm only going out if I hear a really Big Bang or ripping sound.

I am just really pleased that we have an indoor loo now.  No more midnight treks to the outdoor one.  It was installed just in time.

This picture was taken a few days ago, from the dip by the Wee Burn.

How you know it's autumn

There are the obvious things, like beautiful leaves in glorious shades of red, gold and orange.

There are mushrooms and fungi springing up overnight on old wood.

And there are rain clouds that burst unexpectedly and without warning, that empty out over a few days, and flow with serious intent over the banks of the Wee Burn, meaning you wake up one day to find your path has gone, and your waterhole has been filled to the brim with rocks and stones.

Even the pup looks confused about the geographical changes that occured overnight.

So now we are left to scratch our heads and work out exactly how to source our water.

The upside to the rainstorm was a replenishing of the waterbuts.  So whilst stream water is currently out of bounds due to the sheer viciousness of the torrent and no safe access point, we do have an alternative supply to see us through.

I also have the bonus of more beautiful rocks and stones to play with.  I'm

Thinking of a spiral mosaic.  I just need to make sure I create it higher up so it doesn't get washed away in the next storm.

Beginning :: A Loo

Right.

I've very much skirted around this issue because I didn't want lower the tone of the blog...but poop and pee is a way of life, like it or not.

Every off grid book and blog I have ever read has made me wonder about where they do their business.  Without being rude, taking care of your crap is a big issue when you can't simply poop and flush and move on with your life.

Initially, we were using a patch of long grass down the side of a slope in one of the fields.  This was not ideal and was most certainly not a long term plan.  The morning that my daughter was startled from her ablutions by a large red deer was a turning point.  We had also had some rain, and I can tell you that peeing on wet grass whilst being soaked by heavy rain is not fun.  Not in any way shape or form.

I did not find the joy in that moment, and so I had a little tantrum and insisted that we HAD TO HAVE A LOO.

So, as we had already earmarked a place for a composting loo, we decided to get to it and start the build.  I had recently scavanged a load of pallets and we decided that these would be a good starting point.  We used some fence posts and some wood off cuts and some roofing left over from the shelter project and came up with a rustic, yet fit for purpose loo.

At this point can we discuss the appropriate angle for a funnel?  As we were composting, we decided to go for a seperator model, which basically means your pee and your poo are kept seperate.  The poo goes into a large compost bin (again built with pallets and lined with black plastic) and the pee was directed into a large container which would be emptied onto an exploded haybale that I'd gathered up in wheelbarrows and piled up in a heap across the field.  I can report back that there is no smell from either area.

Anyway...back to the funnel.

So, as I am a Lady...it was decided that I should have quite a lot of say in where the funnel to catch the pee was positioned.  Apparently males have a bit better aim - or at least, better equipment with which to aim, whereas girls squat and hope for the best...at least this is my own personal experience.  Getting that funnel at the correct angle was the most challenging thing we had done so far.

I am not kidding. 

And here after the toilet talk, is a picture of thousands of tiny flying bugs that danced in the sun today, looking exactly like fairies.

Little bitey fairies.

in the garden

Did I just call it a garden?

As you can see from the pictures,  It is more a wildflower and weed haven.

I have made some developments here and there.  We dug out a pond where the stream over flows and I've planted around 500 bulbs, mostly daffodils, tulips and crocus but with a few pricey alliums thrown in.  The result will be eye watering.  I didn't go for muted tones or even a specific colour palette.  I just got them all in the ground.  My theory is that there is so much green, any colour variations would be welcome.

I've dug over five beds and put cabbage - red and spring, Kale - red and green as well as purple sprouting broccoli and strawberry plants in them.  I was getting worried as I dug because the topsoil was so thin.  If I dug down three inches, I was met with a clay subsoil.  After consulting with neighbours, I found out that the previous owner had had the field flattened and scraped, and that most of the topsoil from this field was dumped on the banks of a nearby stream.

This revelation has completely changed our plans around.  Subsoil is apparently what you need for a good wildflower meadow.  So, where the vegetable garden was going to be would be the ideal place for wildflowers, bee hives and some fruit trees.  I initially found this hard to accept, as it didn't fit in with my plans.  I am learning - slowly - that working with what we have is far easier than trying to force my will.  So, for this Winter I will leave the brassicas where they are, and feed them as best I can, but next Spring I will not be planting out in this field.

I've done some exploratory digging over in the big field - the one we planned to leave for a hay crop - and found this to be much better soil.  It crumbles if you fork it - whereas the other soil lay in sad sodden clumps, a coppery shimmery line of clay displayed in each one.

We have just slipped past the Autumn Equinox, and it in an almost text book fashion, the weather has changed - there is now a noticeable chill on what was a warm wind, and we can watch the leaves fall in their hundreds from the trees that line the track.  Most of the trees here are Alder, Beech, Rowan and Hazel.  A useful mix that we will make good use of over the years.

The Alder is very much a weed.  They are springing up in the fields now that they are not being munched down by cattle, and I am determined to rescue as many as possible, and have started a small nursery of saplings in pots whilst I work out where I want to put them,

I'm also eyeing up the Beech saplings I've seen in the boundary ditch, but some of these are over six feet in height, and I'm not sure what is the best way to move them without damaging them.  I do know that over Winter is the best time to move them as they are dormant.  Maybe I should start with one and see how it fares.  Then next year I can move the rest.

So, for now I am very much back to the drawing board.  Trying to work out how much of this land I should turnover to a garden, and what I would like this garden to look like.

I've been watching the '80 Gardens Around the World' as inspiration - and so far I've decided I like the look of Mediterranean gardens...which is northern Scotland is as unlikely as you could get!  A girl can dream...

Beginning :: the tourer

I posted a while back about the universe providing us with temporary accommodation.  Well, the universe did, but only after we had been on a not-so-merry dance.

To cut a long and rather depressing story short, we couldn't get the original static because it was wedged so close to the previous owners house that the removals people couldn't remove it without bashing the life out of it and the house.  So, heartbreaking as it was, we had to walk away from what would have been a perfectly good temporary home, knowing it was probably going to be chopped up and scrapped.

After this we could not get a static no matter how hard we tried.  We searched all of the obvious places...Ebay, Gumtree and the local free ads.  Nothing.  These statics were in hot demand and were therefor going for drastically inflated prices.

In the meantime a local farmer was selling his old touring caravan.  For the princely sum of £100 we could have a solid structure over our heads.  A night spent watching lightening zig-zag in the sky through the tent canvas was enough to convince us all that it would be £100 well spent.

So, the following weekend the purchase was made and we became the owners of The Cavalier.  Solid, dependable and - most importantly - dry on the inside.  We had the makings of a home.  It was small but had two sets of bunk beds as well as a double bed, and came with an awning so we had extra storage.

Amazingly, despite being thirty five years old, The Cavalier was in excellent working order, and now I could add Grill to my means of cooking.  Two hobs and a Grill...I felt like I had arrived.

The following week it poured and we all grinned at each other, smug and snug in our new caravan we looked out at the grey sky and cosied up with books and board games.  

We even had electric as we'd purchased a couple of car batteries from a scrap yard and had charged these on the generator. Although the lights were rarely used due it being midSummer and so barely getting dark, it was nice to occasionally have the radio on. 

The biggest difference was sleeping.  To be out of tents and raised up off the floor.  That first night I slept solidly for eight hours.  Not once did I wake with aching limbs or a sore back as I so often did in the tent.

Now I knew we would be able to cope come what may.  We were warm and very dry, if a little cramped at times.