Or once upon-a-time two very sensible people stood on the north-west tip of South Uist (Outer Hebrides) and fell in love with a croft on the edge of the world. It might have been blowing a Force 8 with horizontal rain but we were smitten. Eighteen months later, with the common sense and retirement plan blown away by the gale, we became the proud custodians of 12 hectares of coastal grassland (machair), a sadly neglected croft house, a derelict concrete garage containing 20 years accumulated junk, and some tumbledown stone walls around the “garden”.
Initially, I declared that it was an impossible site for a garden, that we would leave it to nature and I would just admire the view and take up knitting or origami or something improving! It was either the accumulation of 25 years of ingrained gardening debris in the fingers or the threat of scurvy that changed my mind, but before I knew what was happening we had started a garden.
Four years later and poverty-stricken we are still enamoured. We now live in a new eco-house, are just about self-sufficient in vegetables and the old croft house is now in the care of new owners. The gardens are still a work in progress and this blog is their story.
My neighbours still view me as eccentric, if not certifiable, but then what do you expect from a couple of Sassenachs.