For those who haven’t been following my adventures on a
remote island on the Scottish Community Land Network, you can catch up here (start at the bottom of the page).
For the rest of you; here I am again! A friend recently impressed upon me the
absolutely vital importance of continuing the blog; as a way of recording the
passage of time and my changing responses to events as they unfold, if nothing
else. Several glasses (or was it
bottles?) of wine may have been drunk at the time, but a certain wisdom in her
words stuck with me so instead of waiting to see what happens with the new
Highlands & Islands Enterprise website, I’m going to pick up the story
here.
I’ve been reading through my original blog posts, and am
struck by the surge of optimism and naivety which carried me to Rum, and by how
it was gradually eroded as time went on and the realities of just how damn hard
it is to live alone in a remote place.
Every single thing is so much more difficult; every step forward
involves at least five steps backwards (or sideways). And yet ... a year later, I’m still here.
We’ve been having some exceptionally lovely weather – the
kind that makes me realise there’s nowhere in the world I’d rather be than
right here. I’ve also finally arrived in
the Time Of Change I’d been looking forward to all winter. Our new crofting family has settled in
beautifully, although the “Rum Effect” has stalled the progress of their static
caravan at the beginning of the croft access track, rather than actually on the
croft where they’d like it to be.
They’re being remarkably stoic about it, and say they’re enjoying all
the attention from walkers passing on their way to or from the Nature
Reserve. The Weshman and his (not)Wife
have also arrived and started work on Tattie House, the only privately owned
property on the island. They’re living
in a touring caravan for the summer and blogging [http://tattiehouse.wordpress.com/]
about it. One of our families has left
for a new job on the mainland, and will be replaced by an older couple this
month. That makes 8 new people so far
this year. I’m pretty excited to see
what will happen...
We have some new faces on the board of the Trust, with two
Directors returning from taking a break and one newbie who’s already proved her
brilliance by taking over the management of the camping cabins (before she even
became a Director). Yes, the cabins have
arrived and yes, all the wailing and gnashing of teeth was worth it because
they’re incredibly popular and they make me smile every time I pass them,
knowing that I made that happen. It was
a bit touch and go for a while; - the bases almost didn’t get built in time -
but thanks to Dave Won’t-be-Beaton and Miss McGinty’s Dad, everything turned
out fine. The composting toilet is also
in situ and in use – it’s rather too beautiful to be hidden away beside the
boatshed. The pier is spick and span,
with some screening around the rubbish skips so they’re not the first thing you
see when you arrive. It sort of all
happened at once, and I was so exhausted by then that I just wanted to crawl
into bed and sleep for a month.
The community’s grand designs for a bunkhouse and the
redevelopment of the Byre buildings are proceeding apace. We have a site and a design for the
bunkhouse, now all we need is the half a million pounds needed to make it
real. The Centre at the Edge (everyone
still calls it the Byre project) is a longer-term prospect which I’m
approaching with some trepidation. It’s
going to be massive. I’ve already
applied for some money to get it started, from the Coastal Communities Fund
with its year-long lead in time, but I suspect it’s going to be oversubscribed
so I’m waiting to see what happens.
I’m trying to clear my To Do list before I go off on holiday
for 10 days in June, but I keep adding things to it rather than crossing them
off. Our Climate Challenge Funding came
through and they are my most favourite funder to deal with because they make
everything so easy; others could learn a lot from them (I’m looking at you,
LEADER). Our polytunnel has
arrived! It’s stored in the boatshed
because one of our resident Twitchers has requested that we wait until the
grasshopper warbler which has made its home in the long grass of the walled
garden has finished nesting. “When will
it be done?” I asked. “July,” he
replied. Ah, Rum. So rewarding, so frustrating.