Chill out time

Eilean Shona - Scotland in miniature

Colin and I have just come back from a week’s holiday on Eilean Shona, a wee island off the west coast of Scotland. The ferry (small rubber dingy) picked us off the mainland at 5.00pm on Saturday, we were walked to our cottage and left to enjoy the peace. We had enough food, drink and books for a week.
Eilean Shona is a sort of mini Scotland. It has some reasonable hills to climb, a diverse international forest, lochs, fine walking, history, wildlife and a fabulous white sandy beach.




The Perfect Red Cottage

The island has a number of holiday cottages. We were staying in Red Cottage which was up a hill on the edge of a forest. There was so much storm damaged dead wood lying around we were encouraged to have a camp fire, which we delighted in doing most evenings.



Afternoon tea at the cottage

Being a mad recycler I was keen to keep the rubbish we produced and left behind to a minimum. The new estate managers, Rose and Ali, had told me that they hoped to create a vegetable garden. I asked if they had a compost heap for my vegetable scrapes, not yet but they had something better. Three pigs who were employed as environmental rotivators, churning up the vegetable patch and grateful for anything you threw at them.



The Three Composters


We failed to see the promised wildlife of pine martin, otter and sea eagle, but we did manage to see deer and grey seals and plenty birds. And we brought some wildlife back with us; the walk to the beach had us wading through some pretty long heather. As a result of this heather bashing both Colin and I have been plucking tics out of our skin ever since. I thought April would have been too early for Scotland’s nasties, but apparently not.



The sun sparkled beach - was it really April? Yes, that's why I still wore my hillwalking boots on the sand


WWF Earth Hour

Just because I was on holiday did not mean I forgot a very important appointment. At 8.30pm on Saturday the 28th of March, Colin and I sat in our wee Red Cottage and watched our wood burning stove glow while we turn off the lights for an hour.


Earth hour - check out how the rest of the country spent the hour

A funny turn up

Bursting to get out


This is the last week of my two Survive the Credit Crunch courses. I am pleased with the results. In the early weeks, the women I lectured were sceptical and often disagreed with my prattles about budgeting and saving money, but as the weeks progressed I witnessed a shift. Despite their doubts many took on board much of what was being discussed. Hardened cynics who insisted they could never save money, would always take taxis and couldn't live without their tumble dryer, were proud to announce that the bus wasn't so bad and if the weather was good, the washing could dry on the line while they walked to where they needed to be.

Many of the women were already pretty shrewd when it came to household budgets. I learned loads from them and am pleased that I have now been given the opportunity to continue working with one group to take Surviving the Credit Crunch a step further by introducing them to growing their own vegetables. Their enthusiasm for this subject is inspiring. I can't wait to start in April.





Forced into daylight


Talking of Gardening

The March weather has been relatively dry and sunny and has been tempting me into the garden. I have been resisting the urge to plant my potatoes. Many years ago a wise old gentleman gardener, sadly now deceased, told me never to plant potatoes before Good Friday. Taking his advice was always a good bet and I have quite a few wins in the Grand National to prove that.

One thing I did do early on was pop a pot on top of my rhubarb. The result was my first ever forced rhubarb. I stewed the first crop with a lump of fresh ginger and served it with Greek yogurt. Yum.

Monty Halls’ Great big illusion-delusion

Sand Beach on the Applecross Peninsula - like Monty Halls, Colin left the MOD submarine base out of the picture.(photo Colin Baird)


It is no secret that one of my favourite places in the world is Applecross in the North West of Scotland. Colin and I had a house there for four years and know the area well. Imagine our delight on finding a programme made there. We watched it with interest last week and again this week. However after the first week my enjoyment was derived not only from the scenery and seeing old pals but also trying to spot how many distortions the BBC can cram into the show.

For anyone who hasn’t seen the show, Monty Hall has moved to a derelict shed on a deserted beach in the wilderness of Applecross, with the desire to live like a crofter. He was able to entice the local population into helping make the shed habitable, this included a guy who was impossible to get hold of when we were there. What the programme fails to point out is that the beach, Sand, is the busiest beach on the Applecross Peninsula and the ‘remote shed’ is only about 200 metres from a MOD submarine base. Like some alien movie the existence of this base has been evaporated and erased from the world of Monty Halls. Those are the most obvious fibs, there are loads of others. I will never believe another thing on the telly again. The programme is worth watch despite Monty Halls believing real life crofters have solar panels to power their iPods and seems to be incapable of catching mackerel with a full kit of high tech fishing gear. Maybe the friendly locals omitted to mention to him that if he drove his landrover four miles down the road to Toscaig Pier and stood with a rod for a couple of hour he would catch loads of mackerel.

Books for a Better World

Being a writer I have to be careful not to annoy anyone who might help sell my book once it is published. Being a reader I can not help being frustrated by the way a certain online bookseller does its business.

Last year I heard that publishers were being manipulated by this bookseller in the same way large supermarkets treat our farmers. Margins were being squeezed so tight the profit was turning from black to red. One publisher stood their ground and refused to reduce their rates. The consequence was the seller removed the BUY NEW button from their site, denying the publisher the sale.

I was enraged and vowed to use my library more and only buy books from the High Street.

Last week I was looking for a book called The Hidden History of Glasgow's Women by the eminent Elspeth King. I tried the Mitchell Library first but they only had a copy in a secured shelf. I would have to locker my bag and sit in a secure room to read it. No good. They could order it for me, but I might have to wait a while.

Being of an impatient nature I tried both the large High Street bookstores. Despite the shelves heaving with 3 for 2 offers of American and UK easy Lit I found no joy when looking for this influential piece of Glasgow history.

I had no option but to turn to my old pals the second hand online seller ABE Books. This reliable portal site puts the shopper in touch with many seller across the country.

But each time I use this option I am faced with a dilemma. The poor old publisher and author still miss out on the sale but the recycling aspect of it appeals. This time the seller I found gave me added bonuses.

Bonus One. They were based in Dunfermline, my home town. Income for the Fifers!

Bonus Two. They are called Better World Books, an organisation that helps literacy across the world and saves books from landfill sites.

Bonus Three. I found two books I was looking for at a low price and they arrived on my doorstep within two working days of being ordered.

The result.

A Better World 3 - Greed 0

Busy, Busy, Busy

The paid work

It has been a while since I last posted a blog but I have a genuine excuse. Before Christmas I punted a couple of ideas round some learning establishments in Glasgow. I had outlines for two courses I thought would be perfect to deliver into the community; A Guide to Successful Living and How to Survive the Credit Crunch. I figured I would have a couple of months’ breathing space to develop the course before anyone organised themselves and booked me. Wrong! A college in North Glasgow booked me to deliver the Credit Crunch course to three separate groups of women. I am now into the fourth week of a ten week course and am just beginning pull the last pieces of the development work together.

The course looks at budgets, debt, money saving tips, smart shopping and even some microwave cooking. It has been a fantastic learning experience for me and I have turned into a fanatic light switcher-offer and standby plug puller.

The novel

If all this teaching isn’t enough to keep me away from my blog I am delighted to report that I still find at least one half day a week to work on my second novel. It can be frustrating to commit to paid work (the course) and to find it is the perfect catalyst for shifting writers block and leaving you yearning to complete the non paid work (the novel). I now miss my main character Ellie when I don’t spend quality time with her in the week. I am halfway through the first draft of the story and want to finish that by July.

The seeds, the seeds

It is seed time again. My carbon footprint project is also ongoing and even though I haven’t spent a huge amount of time on it I do live the ethos daily. One of my main objectives is to step up the food production in the garden. I planted the first of my seeds yesterday and will gradually increase that as the spring arrives.

A new trial for me is using the inside tubes of toilet rolls to make seed pods. I have been collecting them for ages and I am relieved to get them out the way and in use.



You can see the snow in the barrels outside. I hope my November planted garlic will be OK.

A Well Kept Secret

Gartocharn Farmers Market

I heard a rumour that the small village of Gartoharm held a farmers market every Friday. I had passed through the village many times on Fridays and caught no sign of life, but last week I was determined to seek out and find. I drove over at 9.30am. No homemade signs hammered into the verge alerting passers by to this fabled event, nothing. The car in front signalled right and tuned off the main road so I followed. Some police cones lined the pavement, things were looking hopeful. I spotted two elderly men leaving the Village Hall car park carrying shopping bags, but the Village Hall door was open; something was going down in there.

'Where is the farmers market? I shouted out the car at a passing women. She pointed down the road to where droves of people now headed, where did they come from? 'It's just along that lane, follow the crowd.

Result! I parked and headed along a tree lined avenue reminiscent of the boulevards of France. White farm buildings dominated the skyline almost hiding the stunning backdrop of Loch Lomond. Rows of fresh local and imported fruit and vegetables burst from trestle tables. It was indeed just like the French market I stumble upon whenever I visit Paris (but without the fish and cheese). I jostled with the crowds, tripped over pushchairs and rummaged for the best of the fine selection. I loaded my bag with as much as I could carry and went into a shed to pay. Inside the shed there was more to choose from, including at least eight varieties of potatoes.

The other customers greeted each other like old friend and I suspected that the market is not advertised because the locals prefer it that way. Well I am a local too (almost) and I felt privileged to be able to shop here.

I envied the wee woman who trundled her trolley bag back up the avenue. Next week I would be sure to be better prepared.




I didn't have my camera with me on Friday - the craft market is held in the same hall as my Pilate's class

But what was happening in the hall? A weekly craft market, thats what. I enjoyed the luxury of sauntering round the hall, taking a 25p shot at the tombola and not winning, then paying £1.40 for a mug of (not bad) coffee and an indulgent chocolate brownie. I sat and enjoyed the view from the hall window and reflected on life in the country. It is a bit like being thrown into the set of the Archers and realising that it is an enjoyable experience. I can't wait until next week.