Having just returned from a very worthwhile but tiring trip abroad, I’ve been noticing the need to pause and reflect on my own circumstances before moving too quickly into the next phase. Back at the croft, the primroses are flowering, daffodils are now fully open and Daisy, my nanny goat, is close to kidding. At this time of year in the northern hemisphere, attention naturally turns toward new life. It feels like an appropriate moment to slow down and consider intention: what we may be sowing, what we hope to grow, and how we’ll work with the resources we have available. With my elderly parents needing more care, I’ve decided I need to reduce the number of “legs” I have on the land. Many of the ducks, geese, and chickens will go to new homes; others will be processed for the table. I’ll keep a smaller group to meet our own needs for eggs, meat, and manure. This will be our fourth year with goats, and we’ve still never managed to milk. Each season something has interrupted the rhythm just as we were about to begin. I love goats’ cheese and yoghurt, but if we can’t establish a workable routine this year, I’ll likely reduce the herd or keep only a few wethers for conservation grazing. This is the reality of homesteading — and of life. Patterns shift. Rhythms change. Sometimes attention reveals that intentions also need adjusting. Reflection for this week: • What has been catching your attention recently? • What are your intentions for the coming season? • Is there anything you need to reduce, release, or re-shape in order to move forward with clarity? If you feel to share, I’d love to hear where you are noticing movement — inwardly or outwardly.

As we move into February, our Small Shifts focus turns to Care and Warmth. Here at Adrian’s Croft, we now have almost two extra hours of daylight compared to the shortest day. Through January we were noticing energy; now we can begin to feel what that energy brings. Extra light brings a little extra warmth. The snowdrops are in full flower now — quiet markers that something is stirring, even if it still feels wintery. On dry days, we might feel the urge to do — perhaps to start caring for the garden. This is a good moment to pause and notice how we define care. Care doesn’t automatically mean tidy. In nature, stems left standing may hold insect eggs. Fallen material offers shelter. What looks messy to us can be warmth and protection for others. This week’s invitation is not to act more, but to notice more: Where is warmth beginning to gather? What forms of care support life quietly, without control? Where might “leaving be” be the most appropriate response? Care, at this time of year, is often about restraint, attentiveness, and trust in natural rhythms. Take what’s useful. Leave what isn’t. And notice where warmth — literal or metaphorical — is beginning to return.

Hi, the local open air historical museum, auchindrain, their tearoom has a kitchen garden which they are asking me for help with. They want early main and late crop tatties as a start and looking for varieties that grow well here! Now i have no clue as i just grow shop bought that have sprouted so as not to waste them! 🤦‍♀️ Can you help with suggestions for varieties that would grow well here in argyll, west coast scotland?? They would like me to do the kitchen garden and i would like to aim for something between modern permaculture whilst being historically relevant! There is the possibility i could help olan pther areas for traditional sryle gardens elsewhere on thw sote also! Just struggling with where to start 🤦‍♀️🤣 Hopefully an adventure in the making!!

Over the last few days I’ve been moving through grief — not in a straight line, but in waves. I’ve been recording the audio for Permaculture Practice 2, which explores patterns and energy cycles, and I’ve been struck by how grounding it is to recognise this as a normal rhythm rather than something to resist or fix. Energy rises, falls, pauses, returns. The sea reminds me of that — waves arriving, breaking, retreating — each one different, none wrong. This is why I value pattern literacy so deeply. Not as theory, but as something that helps us live more gently with what is.

I dont always have time to recycle my candles, but this module prompted me to be creative and think about my consumption. Being off grid with no working generator, we live by candle light most of winter, I burn them even in daylight hours to keep the chill out the house a little. Well I was about to order some more, read this module and went on the hunt for scraps of wax that we have been keeping from all the big expensive candles I usually buy! Not all will be good, but for 2 days work, working with scrap wicks, scrap wax and a couple of make your own gifts I got for Christmas. I can happily say I am proud of this pile! Won't last long, but all wax left will go back in the pot and be recycled again! (The brown candles on right have been recycled at least twice previous to this, thus the yucky brown colour 🤣)