Merry Christmas

I am officially middle aged. How do I know? Well, by the presents I recieved this year. Sensible presents, useful presents. No frivolous stuff for me, oh no, Christmas for the small holder is a chance to get your family to contribute to the cause. What use is a wii to the plan to have chickens. What use is a smart new coat when I'm out collecting horse muck in a muddy field. For me this year, I got a new hen house. Once the weather has warmed up in the spring it'll be time to get my first hens. I hope I can wait until the weather warms up.
So Santa brings a warm, waterproof working coat and cordless power tools for those jobs in the far corner of the field. Sensible presents, useful presents.

And what's more. I don't mind. Its what I need.

Happy Christmas everyone.

pete
inthehills

time flys

Wow, what happened to November? I turn around for one moment and a month has flown by. So, a quick recap of the last month. It rained a bit. A couple of half hearted snow showers, more rain. Hmmm....there must be something else....nope. I can't think of anything.

Yesterday my little car had to make a visit to the fixers. I bought a little car to save money and time and increase fuel efficiency. Obviously the long commute was taking its toll on the poor thing. But this morning, after getting the car back, it was like having a new car. No noisey bearings, all the dashboard lights work. Amazing. It really cheered me up. Its odd that such a minor thing as a fully working car can cheer a person up.

The other reason to be cheerful is that I have finished work for the year! Woo-hoo! No more work until the 3rd Jan. Obviously, there will be a lot of work done, but all on the small holding. I've a list as long as your arm and hopefully I'll work my way through them and even do some of the less urgent tasks such as sort out the barn and think about moving the compost heaps.

But first, I think I'm due a couple of lie-ins. If the cats let me.

pete

snow

As a child down in England snow was a treat. It didn't happen very often and it never seems to last long. It was fun. But now, living in the middle of no-where and having horses snow is a trial to be endured. Not only does it mean extra food for the horses, but when it melts then the field will be a soggy mess and this can lead to hoof problems or mudsickness.
We had our first snow of the winter last night, thankfully it wasn't a huge amount. A couple of cm's where it had drifted. It did mean extra hay last night and driving in this morning on the local roads was .... interesting. We no longer have a 4x4 so my little car wheel spun up the hill, but it coped fine.
Experience tells me that we probably won't get another dose of snow until the middle of December. That's what happened in previous years, but this year has not been like any other so who knows what'll happen. We've stocked up on hay and straw for the horses and all we can do is deal with what ever the climate throws at us this year.
Pete

big coat

well, I've been trying to avoid doing it, but today I had to go in to the cupboard and find my big coat. When I took the hay out to the horses this morning around 6ish it was blinkin' cold. I checked the thermometer and it was registering 2°C. By the time I got back in to the house, my fingers were tingling so there was no help for it. It's big coat time.
I have a range of big coats depending on the weather. This one is an autumn "big coat". I've got a cold winter one and another that is for blizzards. The blizzard one is amazing and all you can see of me is my eyes, even then, during the worst storms the snow manages to get to me. Thankfully that one isn't needed yet. No, my current big coat is just a glorified fleece. Warm but not particularly waterproof. Ideal for these dry cold days.

Its a sign though. Winter is on its way.

Early mornings

I have to get up really early in the morning and travel from the countryside to the city everyday. Since the Beggshill Bothy is up in the hills and I work in Aberdeen which is on the coast its down hill all the way. At this time of year I get to see some glorious sun rises. Although it is light when I set off at 6.30am the sun hasn't truely risen. I usually catch a glimpse of it appearing over the sea as I drive down the last hill in to Aberdeen.
Today was one of those fabulous days of clear skys and strange mist bands. The mist tends to form in the shaddows of the surrounding hills. I guess that those areas are colder and so the moisture in the air condensates out to form fog. What ever the reason, it creates fabulous views when you are above it and can look down the glen and see the sky coloured red and purple by the rising sun, and beneath it a translucent sea of cloud. I must try and photograph it one day.

pete

where did all these leaves come from

The last time I posted I was waxing lyrical about the golden leaves on the trees and then suddenly the entire content of our Elm leaped off the tree and are now littering our driveway. Now, these leaves are a brilliant composting material if you can wait a year or two and if you can catch and contain them. Composting is close to my heart and leaf compost is some of the best you can get. But, as the saying goes, great things come to those who wait. Here at the Beggshill Bothy there are several compost bins dotted around the land, but I have one in the barn. Empty. Waiting. This is the special one, the leaf composter. Its going to get an out of the way spot, where it'll get the sun and its just for leaves. Once its full, I'll ignore it for a year or two and then hopefully I'll have lovely, brown, rich leaf compost for the garden.
Here at the Beggshill Bothy, we are not adverse to modern technology. Although it is a quiet little place we are now have a nice new road surface courtesy of the council and broadband courtesy of BT. So to celebrate, I've branched out in and recorded my first podcast. Don't tell any one.

pete

Cold winds and golden leaves

well, it had to happen. Summer (Ha! what summer) has officially gone and the cold Autumn winds and dark nights are here. This morning when I woke I checked the themometer and it said 1.5°C. That is definitely not aiding me in my battle to get out of bed.
But I actually like this time of year. I like watching the turning of the leaves, I don't much like picking them up once they've fallen, but I enjoy the colour change. I also like the dark nights. This time of year is when I start to marvel at the number of stars in the sky. I am very fortunate to live up here in the wilds of Aberdeenshire. There is very little man made light in our area. (There is one street lamp and if you ever come and stay with us, I'll point it out. We're quite proud of it.) This darkness means that on a clear night we can see millions upon mill lions of stars. I'm not exaggerating. You'll be staggered at the number. One day, I'll take a picture and you'll be amazed too. Also autumn and winter is the best time to see the aurora borealis or Northern Lights. Its not often seen, but there are enough to make it worth having a quick peek out at night. If you don't see the aurora, you might see shooting stars or hear the owl and the bark of the roe deer.
Dark nights aren't that bad, especially if you have a warm house to retreat to when it gets too cold.

pete

Mysterious disappearances and time travel

Being a country boy at heart, I've always considered myself to be in tune with nature. So it was with shock this morning that I noticed there were no swallows around. And thinking back, I don't remember seeing any for a while. I wracked my brain and I can remember seeing them grouping on the telephone wires a week or so ago, but now, nothing. In the same way that the return of the swallows in April signifies spring, their disappearance as they migrate to warmer climes in southern Africa signifies the onset of Autumn and Winter. But usually we have a couple of weeks of them gathering in larger and larger groups, fattening themselves up on insects in readiness for the long journey south. Its always a nice, if slightly noisy sight to see 10-20 swallows sitting on the wire outside our bedroom window. People often try to suggest that birds have a sixth sense that allows them to predict the future and so this sudden migration south heralds a terrible winter, especially as all the Rowan berrys are already ripe. I don't believe that. Its more likely that the strange summer weather has effected insect numbers and they've headed off early in a hope that they can fatten up on the journey.
The other shock to the system is that its September! Where has the year gone? This is our first year of business at the Beggshill Bothy and its already 2/3rds gone. Yet again, the list of things I'd achieve this year, new horse shelter, better garden, log shed by the back door has not gone down. No worries. There is always next year. But if the swallows are right and its a bad winter, I'll kick myself for not doing the log shed by the back door. The barn is a long way from the house in a snowstorm. But, I'm being silly, swallows don't predict the weather.....

We always see the deer in the clearing opposite to us and its normal. I go to work and there they are. I come home and they run out across the road in front of me. Nothing special, but recently we had a guest in the beggshill bothy who lived in a big city where deer are not a common occurance.
No problem I thought, just watch the clearing near dusk and you'll see them. Did they show? Not while he was looking. I saw them walking across the clearing one night and rushed over to let him know, but by the time he'd come to the door they'd gone.
But on the last evening of his stay I saw him standing outside the bothy and I checked the clearing and there were 4 or 5 deer grazing. I went out to offer him my binoculars and while we stood there, we could here the owl calling and then the bats came out of the barn and circle us chasing insects under the Elm tree. So my promise of deer grazing in the clearing came true.

It made me think how lucky I am to live out here in the wilds surround by deer, owls, bats, hare, all at close quarters.

pete

bodge job

If you look up bodge job on the many interweb dictionaries, they'll define it as to mend clumsily or to make a mess of. But bodging a job is a necessary skill if you are small holder like us at the beggshill bothy. Last weekend I broke my ride on mower. Without access to a proper tractor, my ride on mower is the next best thing. So breaking it was a disaster. I'd hit a tree stump and snapped off the bolt that holds the cutting blades on. I guess I could have spent hundreds on buying a new cutting deck, but I didn't want to do that. I figured that I could bodge it. After consulting with a few knowledgeable folk, I managed to get the broken bolt out, swap out the blades and re-attach them using the remains of the broken bolt. It was not a elegant fix, but it works and that's all that matters. And its saved me a couple of hundred quid.
Bodge job it might be, but it'll do the job. In the winter I'll do a better fix, but at the moment the grass is growing and I have a working mower to combat it.

pete

LBJ's

LBJ comes from the birding world. It stands for Little Brown Jobs and refers to the many small brown coloured birds that you often see flitting through branches or feeding under your bird table. Your expert birder would know a chifchaf from a willow warbler, but to me they both look the same. Small. Brown, with a pointy beak. I actually know how to tell the difference between the two on their call. The chifchaf goes chif-chaf, chif-chaf and the willow warbler doesn't. That's that sorted then.
At this time LBJ's are in abundance. Most baby birds are small and brown so they can hide more easily from predators and the adult birds are often tatty looking because they've spent all their time and energy feeding the young ones.
But I never worry if I can't identify a bird. It doesn't stop it being fascinating to watch them. Whether they are pulling seeds out of seed heads or picking insects out of the hedgerows, don't worry about their names just marvel at their antics.

the look and taste of a thing

While I am out working in the field I am always listening to my ipod. (other mp3 players are available). The other day I was listening to the alternative kitchen garden podcast. There was a commentry about heritage vegetables. Heritage vegetables are vegetables that our fathers and grandfathers grew but are now becoming more scarce. On the podcast it was said that in the last few decades farmers have been asked to produce uniform, "good looking" vegetables where appearence was more important than taste. That made me think. The vegies I buy from my local supermarket do look nice, all the same size and colour. Compared to my home grown produce, supermarket vegies should be better, but just smell and taste the home grown ones and you'll find a world of difference. My folks grew tomatos commercially and the thing I remember is the smell. I'd bring a bucket of freshly picks tomatos up to the shop and all the customers would take a big breath and admire the distinctive smell. You knew from the smell that they'd taste good. And they did.
So if you have access to locally grown produce, or can get to a farmers market buy some fruit and veg, then go to the supermarket and get some of theirs. Once you are home try a taste test. You'll be amazed. Especially the strawberrys, ooh fresh strawberrys grown locally are fabulous. Locally grown food tastes and smells good. And hopefully you'll be persuaded to source your food locally or even grown your own.

Wasps

Most folk are a little afraid of wasps. They have a reputation for being meaner than bees. Bees give us honey and a bee will die if it stings someone so its a last option for a bee. Wasps on the other hand can sting as many times as it wants. Today when I was checking my compost bins I discovered that one of them has become the home to a beautiful wasps nest. I didn't get a long look at it because wasps can be very defensive of their home. I put the lid back on quietly and let it be.
Wasps actually do a lot of good in the garden. They are hunters and will take a lot of the pests that do damage in the garden. Their nests look papery and in a sense they are. The wasps will chew bits of wood and then use that and saliva to build the nests.
So in a way, the wasp is as much a gardeners friend as the ladybird. If the wasps nest is out of the way, then leave it alone. Over the summer they'll kill many garden pests.
In the winter, quietly check the nest. The wasps will have left. The queen will have holed up somewhere to sleep out the cold and the workers will have died. If the nest looks empty, take a closer look. It is amazingly fragile and beautiful.
Perhaps wasps aren't that scary after all.

extreme weather

As a British citizen, there is nothing I like more than talking about the weather, except maybe a nice cup of tea. And a cake. My ideal morning is sitting around drinking tea, eating cake and talking about all the rain we had in June or the amazingly hot and sunny April. Extremes in weather are fascinating, but as a small holder they are extremely important. Bad weather needs to be anticipated, do I need to protect the plants in the polytunnel in cold weather Give extra feed to the horses during heavy rains, check nothing can blow away during the gales.

But extreme weather can be enjoyed. I can remember standing outside one January night. It was -14C and there was not a breath of wind or cloud in the sky. We're lucky to not have any man made light pollution. It was amazing. Sooo many stars, sooo silent. It didn't feel that cold. But I've also been stuck in a howling snow storm, the car buffeted by the gusts, snowdrifts growing before my eyes. That was definitely cold. Last summer we had some really hot days. Weeks went by with little or no rain, (not like this summer). I'd sit outside until 11pm marvelling at the warmth and listening to the drone of the insects.

Regardless of what the weather is doing, I'm always reminded of a comment by Billy Connolly, who lives at Strathdon, not far from here. He said, there is no such thing as bad weather, just the wrong clothing

Pete

land of the midnight sunset

A few days ago it was the longest day/shortest night. Up here in north east Scotland, it really is a short night. Although the sun goes below the horizon around 10ish, because it doesn't dip that far below there is a still a lot of light in the sky.
Last night, it was still bright until midnight. The for a couple of hours it was dark. Not full dark, more like a twilight and then around 2ish the sky brightens up and its soon daylight again. 2 hours of dusk.
How do I know it was light around 2am this morning? Well, the birds start singing and because I have the window open during the summer, they woke me.
It really is something to experience, this midnight sunset.

Poo

poo, manure, droppings, scat, doings...
Isn't the English language full of euphamisms. As a horse owner poo is part of our daily life. We don't have that much land and so we have to "poo pick" every day. This involves going around the field with a barrow and collecting all the poo's and then dumping them in a big pile out of the way. Its very instructive walking your land scanning the ground constantly. There is lots of signs of other animals that have passed over your land the previous day. Before we fenced off the whole area, there was a lot of deer droppings, but I've also seen the occasional badger latrine. Badgers tend to poo in a small hole they've dug for the purpose. Occasionally I find poo that I couldn't identify immediately. It turned out to be stoat poo which is very strange, it has a twisted and curly form. Most odd. Sometimes I'd find a horse poo that's been scattered (no pun intended). This is because blackbirds and thrushes have discoverd that if a poo is a day old, it'll be full of beetles and worms.
Most people would think this much poo to be of no use, but that's not true. Our poo piles are very useful, 8 months later they are full of worms and have a lovely crumbly texture and ideal for gardening. The birds know that poo's contain edible grubs and since we have a lot of straw amongst the poo piles, they've also discovered its a warm place to roost. Especially in the winter. This winter when it was -5C outside, it was 15C in the poo pile.
So poo is useful, a source of food, nutrients and warmth for the fauna around the beggshill bothy.

Rain, rain, go away...

Well, its finally stopped. We must have had at least 48 hours of constant rain. I thought I was going to have to build an Ark at one point. We did gain a stream with the run off from the top field. Thankfully, we sit on the side of a hill so most of the water rushed down and in to the burn below. The garden and fields definitely needed some rain and hopefully the grass will grow lush and thick 'cos our horses are always hungry.
This weather got me to thinking. The weather is a funny thing around here. We live in a glen, one of many in the area and the weather in each can be different. On Friday, I drove to the local town and sat in the car to wait out a torrential rain storm. As I drove home, up the hill away from Huntly I noticed the roads were dry. We hadn't had a drop of rain at the Beggshill bothy, but its only a couple of miles to Huntly. During the winter, we do get snow. If the weatherman says snow on highground, we know that we'll get a dusting and the top road will get a load. But more than once, we've not had snow and the next glen along has had a blizzard.

Hopefully this excess of rain will soak down in to the ground, percolate through the rocks and eventually trickle in to our well. We have a private water supply so I know that at some point in the future once the earth has filtered this rain, it'll come out of the beggshill taps for me to use. Clear and pure. You city dwellers will be amazed that water can taste so good out of the tap.

So, I don't mind the rain. Its going to be my morning cuppa at some point. But do you have to fall in one go?

Pete
30/5/07

Hello and Welcome to my first post from Beggshill Bothy.

I thought I'd use this first post to set the scene. The beggshill bothy is a small one bedroom bothy hidden from the world in a wee quiet glen in the North East of Scotland, about 35 miles from Aberdeen. When I say quiet, I mean no human noise. On a busy day we might get 5 cars down the road. And there is very little light pollution. We can see a street light. Singular. But you have to know where to look. On clear winters night, I'm always amazed to look up and see so many stars. And if you are very lucky, you might even see the northern lights.

My name is Pete and I live in the farm house adjacent to the bothy with my wife Susi, two cats, Sylvetser and Benj and one lonely fish. Outside we have an Appaloosa and two Shetlands. The first is a horse and the second two are ponys.

We've got about 2 acres of land, on which is the house, bothy, a long barn and my poly tunnel. The poly tunnel is a source of constant anguish to me. Last year it was a disaster, but this year is going to be better. But didn't I say that last year?

That's enough from me this evening. I'll try and post this and see what happens.

Pete
28/05/2007