I loved being in my old country, (Scotland, that is). I had planned to get away to avoid the hot Portuguese sun but in fact it proved to be hot in Scotland and cool in Portugal.
My first farm was on the Isle of Oronsay, next to Colonsay. I was a bit nervous as it was my first time being a wwoofer! I needn't have worried. My hosts were so nice and I could manage the work and I had a bothy to myself. I walked all over the island, discovering the bays and cliff and rocky pools. It was brilliant and the sun shone every day except for my last one.
While I wandered the hills I gathered bits of sheep's wool and used my spindle to spin up enough wool to make a hat. Hebridean black sheep a have lovely soft fleece.
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| The Walled Garden |
My next port of call was to the Outer Hebrides, to wwoof on a croft of a weaver. I was allowed to shear a sheep and did other woolly stuff and gardening and painting the fank.
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| Sallie's Studio |
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| Angora Goat |
One day it did rain and the feel of that fine Scottish rain on my face took me back more than forty years to when I used to live on Mull, where it rained nearly every day. It was a delicious, bitter-sweet moment. It had never been my intention to leave my homeland, but life has lead me to this hot, dry place.
I am still trying to get back to earth. I have mixed feelings about living on this hillside. I love the work that I have done here, but I don't want to work so hard and on my own.
Meanwhile, the flies buzz and shift from bare shoulder to knee to nose. Life goes on.
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