A dying way of life, or a renaissance waiting to happen...

As I sit here pondering the inaugural post to this wee blog, after weeks of scribbles in the phone notes, paper notebook and my personal favourite the voice note reminders to myself whenever thoughts cropped up, I have somehow drawn a blank on where to begin. I stop and realise I have never written just for me, always for others - for work, an assignment, a clear purpose. Though there is something quite freeing and satisfying to sit down at the computer to intentionally write. Is writing about someone listening, and reading it, I contemplate. Or is it simply for the expression in and of itself. I don't think it matters. It just is.

I arrived here through a sense of disenchantment with traditional social media, ever increasingly so in recent months - the noise, the constant distractions, the quick-fire nature of one thing to the next. I yearned for the ability to share longer thoughts, and explanation of my life here in the Isle of Lewis, on my crofting journey. Of which I believe it will always be a continued journey. My first thought was, what do I call the blog, am I still an ‘imposter crofter’ 8 years in to crofting and island life. The name was originally chosen in jest all those years ago, but with a nod to me feeling completely out of my depth with a seemingly impossible amount of things to learn. And though the word imposter may have negative connotations to some, for me it is a reminder, a grounding, that I will always be learning….plus, it does still have a certain ring to it.

So, what to expect here - perhaps easier to start with what it won’t be. It won’t be polished, or overly edited. It will be a raw, honest account of the realities of island and rural living, and my journey in getting to where I am today, and all the messiness that life entails. Because if we can't be human with all our flaws, then what are we left with. I won’t always get it right, and any views and opinions are my own only. I expect posts will be a mix of short and longer musings on crofting, sheep, daily life, land and community. How often I’ll write, your guess is as good as mine. A no pressure space which will follow the seasons, much as crofting inevitably does. A creative expression for me, a place to untangle the web of interconnected thoughts of my little corner of the world to wider events and happenings. My slow observations, without haste. I’m likely to default to standard English (my posh voice, as I like to say), though perhaps the Doric will make an appearance as I find my stride and this all feels a little more comfortable. A friend said to me yesterday after receiving a book and note I’d posted (I love the art of letters, both giving and receiving) that there is something in seeing someone’s handwriting, and I couldn’t agree more - it’s special, words are precious. So, this is my middle ground to you all.

A little snippet from village life this week, as I spent a week off my formal paid employment - the work on the croft goes on and yesterday we gathered our young sheep in from the hill (more on this later). I visited a neighbour to arrange reimbursement of the village defibrillator pads I’d paid out of pocket when they expired a while back. A lot of rural needs and services are managed voluntarily by people in our communities, and each of our villages that have a defibrillator have a responsible person to do routine checks on the machine, ensuring it is in good working order and all parts are in date. I am the responsible person for our village defib. Whilst at my neighbours she received a call on the landline about another neighbours community alarm being sounded - as a named person she got the call as a first responder (the town is near an hour away so having people nearby is vital, particularly in areas with ageing demographics). Hoping not to be met with the aftermath of a trip or fall, we hopped in the car, making the short journey over the road. Thankfully, on this occasion, it was a false alarm. On our return to settle the defibrillator matters, we discussed the impending digital switchover where landlines are due to be moved fully digital by 2027, and the impact this will have in areas such as ours. In moments like this I am reminded of the importance of my presence in the village, where I am one of the youngest, and how the ability to work from home in rural and island communities is crucial to my neighbours, and the community as a whole.

Oh, and the title to this entry - as I penned my first thoughts I considered where crofting is today, and whether the skills I am learning will die out in my lifetime, or continue to be of importance. There was a day I’d have thought the former, however in a world of increasingly fragile systems, I see crofting and small-scale agriculture and producers have the potential to play a significant role in our ever changing world with more local food systems. The conditions just have to be right. I guess that’s a story for another day.

I chose this platform to write as it is open-source and can be linked with the fediverse (a network of federated, decentralised social media). My commitment to you is I will always continue to post without a paywall, and it will be freely available to all. There is a small running cost to the platform, so at some stage if I keep it going I may open up the option for those who can, and want to, to contribute a small amount.

***Final disclosure - liable to repeat myself at times, I have form for this 🙂