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I have put up many pictures of our 'Wrenovations' recently but today I thought some
relaxation
might be in order.
1994.
 The creek behind the main quay in the island was a perfect swimming area at high tide.  And great for learning to use the canoes we had aquired.  Ceri and Raq...  ...and Badger.
Wrenovations continued:
1991.
 Here I am applying a plaster of white cement and lime.  Meri providing finishing touches.
Wrenovations.
The continuing story of the improvements to Wren Cottage.
 Our first evening at Wren. The cottage has no guttering for rainwater which meant we could not collect water in the tanks.
This was in October 1990 - by November the gutters were operating.  But this picture story concerns the base for an extension in front of the North door which Ceri wanted as a base for a
room he wanted for himself. This is how it began in early 1998.  The dogs look very young here and they are very interested in the smell of broken earth. There is a drain at this point
which took all our waste water very efficiently and it was as old as the cottage. Ceri managed to preserve the whole of it.  And this is the finished base. Ceri never did get his room because he left the island for work ashore and a building course.
As you can see, the base made our work much easier. I am unloading peat briquettes from the tractor link box.
 This how our 'garden' looked when we arrived at Wren Cottage in 1990.  In the March of 1991., our neighbours at that time decided we needed a 'dig in' and duly congregated to start our beds.  Which we planted early potatoes - a family effort.  Plants - 'Queens' - can be seen growing behind these labourers.  This view from the barn roof shows how the area looked in about May 1991.  The same view in 2002 before we left. The Trees are Super Sallies which we grew to shelter the garden from the winds. Note
the intrusive poles that will bear electricity cables. I think the trees look better. You might also notice that the
original beds were quite narrow, nor were they as deep as they should have been thus the need for the beds I described before.
Wren Cottage.
How the garden was made.
 Before we started 1991. Traditionally planting was done in ridged beds, the shapes of which may be discerned in the
above picture. Because these had lain fallow for up to fifty years, they needed some work to bring them back into use.  Stephen supervising as Meri cuts sods of grass. These sods would eventually be turned upside down and laid in the bottom
of the bed.  Both of us cutting and turning the sods over but only to pile them beside the bed.  An improved approach: I laid plastic builder's membrane, turned the sods and laid them on the plastic to stop them growing-
in whilst this process was repeated over the whole area.  The next sequence shows the progress of one particular bed.  I start looking relatively young...  but  get steadily more aged as the time passes and the earth is moved...  Halfway along - note the water. Every hole we ever dug always filled in this way and the orientation of the bed was in part
an answer to the problem.  Moving stone. The whole area is replete with glacial material.  Did I mention ageing ?  The end of the bed, at last. In the previous year we had dug a drain along the bottom of the garden area. By cutting into
the drain and filling the space with boulders we stopped the bed sliding into the drain whilst allowing for drainage.  Getting there.  There is one particular rock which stayed put - otherwise this bed is almost finished. Seaweed and cow dung was also in
the mix to bring the soil back up to the necessary fertility. The beds on the right are already producing poatoes. The
whole operation took from March until May. I am afraid this Twofer is Two-by-Seven but it illustrates the efforts
we went to make a go of things. Unfortunately we went on to keep chickens and they wrecked the whole plan by forever digging
up what we planted. I tried everything to prevent them, even buiilding large house and run. Did not work. Additional:Some may wonder why we never used a Rotavator. Several reasons - cost and too much stone
are the main ones. We were not running a commercial enterprise merely having a desire to try and live off our own crop
and thereby make our money go further.
Rounding off the saga of Wren Cottage Garden.
 The Miscreants. Above are our first chickens. They are sitting on the gate in the fence I constructed around the garden I pictured in the making last week. The cock, Brigadier Bruce Chickenson, was very attentive to his hens and would dig earth for them with impressively strong
legs. In fact they were so impressively strong he wrecked every bed.  By the time the flock had grown to twelve birds, the garden was virtually done for - so I constructed this pen. You might
imagine it was large enough but no. If I could have afforded good timber and wire this might have held them. On the
further side we had a pen and house for the ducks but these dear creatures were allowed free range - they were the option
we should have gone for in the first place. By now I was physically running out of steam so we just let them get on with
it. Sadly one night the ducks were decimated by a fox - chickens were picked off rather more sporadically. And the dogs
did the same for the foxes. We replaced the ducks - the eggs are nicer.
Continuing the Before and After theme that seems to have developed on the Twofer Trail,
I
am back to the changes made at Wren Cottage to give us extra room and generally improve our lot.
 Above you can see the inside of the roof slates which admitted a prodigious amount of wind though at this time I had sealed
them before the next phase...  which is the ceiling of what became the boys' bedroom.  This gloomy shot shows what hole this lower room was although we had used it as a kitchen initially and even as our bedroom. The floor was a cement skim over rotting wood - it just had to go...  and above is gone. Here there is a mix of cement used to create what I called piers that would form the foundations for the
new floor. Were we on the mainland, this floor would have been poured concrete but the quantity required defeated me - this
method was my solution.  And so it materialises.  Here the joists are ready for floor boards...  and varnish which Kyrsti is applying.  And Viv is dealing with the window.  Something of an improvement all round.  There was only the ceiling to complete but that had to wait. Regretably, shortage of film prevented me from recording
the progress more closely.
A window for the boys' room.
September 1994.
 I had finished the floor and ceiling in the room that would be for the three boys, but it would be a dark hole. Fortunately,
there had been a window at one time - so I set about reinstating it:   
 Here, below - is the view from the opening. I was getting concerned about the weather changing so, in order that I might
get on with the work, the five young people moved the boat from the Guillemot mooring to the Point for me - their first boat
work without me. You can see them in the picture, following the route I am rowing in the header of this blog.  Rather absurdly, there is no picture of the finished window - I think we ran out of film. For Twofers both paired
and multiple, a visit to Jonna will reveal all. Additional. The only picture I could easily find to show the window. I took this shot as we left Wren for the last time in August 2003
- one year from the incident that ultimately necessitated the move. We left May Moo in residence, so to speak; shortly
she too moved to the mainland and new quarters.
 Mask and Ginny.  Fibula - mother to Tibia and May. A handful.  Nell - the blue cow that started our involvement with The Herd. Her name comes from Pimpernell for we sought her here and
there for almost our whole time on the island. Initially it was a novice family looking to check that she calved safely but
she did not : * 'Intervention'. Out of the Dark Back into the Dark No light between - Only a few snatched
heartbeats. Now an age of breaking down Returning to the matrix, Muscle and bone to humus Molecules to atoms. We
saw the other side of your darkness We saw the light you did not see - It was blood and pain Grunting, sweating at
the taut lines Your body the rag tied in the war rope, Your death the line we fought to stamp and go from. What
have you missed ? The Sun, the Moon, the Meadow and the Knife. Now you lie in Earth's Intervention Whilst
your mother harvests Another body from the grass. * Yes, I wrote a poem so great was the emotion attached to this
event in our innocent lives. Such was our introduction to animal husbandry on an island without any amenity whatsoever. Intervention
was one of those EU farming policies that, in true EU manner, led to all manner of abuse.  Miz - a gentle favourite.  Callico - an enigma.  One of the fun things you can do on a Xmas Day. (2000) Feeding time on Inishfree. Wren Cottage on the skyline plus those
damned electricity poles - but that is another story.
 Coconut. In 1997, Bounty was unable to suckle so we got her mother into the mess of poles and rope that was laughingly
called the Crush and I attempted to draw milk. None of these animals were milked by hand and she freaked, kicking and struggling
finally bringing down the wall, just missing me. After that our landlord and owner of the herd we cared for built, with son
Ceri's help, the Crush shown two pictures down.  Like May, Bounty was unable to suckle for the same reason - therefore she became the second calf that Meri hand-reared.  Bounty at her first veterinary check - The Test. We put her in the crush first so that she might be less panicked. The
Inishfree herds were half wild and we worked hard to try and get the animals for which we had responsibility for as hand
friendly as possible.  Bounty with her own calf - her second. She lost the first because - in the first instance, she got stuck in a drain and
had to be hauled out by tractor and second, because we weren't left to ouselves to deliver her and in her panic leapt a fence
and fell heavily. The calf was still-born. As you can see, she was healthy enough at this time and up to the time we left
the island. She might look a touch beligerent but she wasn't. Her worst habit was circling you like a calf when you
fed her - she was too big for that and if you were standing in mud it could be dangerous.
Words and Images the Copyright of Aileni Calonyddaear Noyle unless otherwise stated.
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Our first evening at Wren. The cottage has no guttering for rainwater which meant we could not collect water in the tanks.
This was in October 1990 - by November the gutters were operating.
But this picture story concerns the base for an extension in front of the North door which
The dogs look very young here and they are very interested in the smell of broken earth.
And this is the finished base. Ceri never did get his room because he left the island for work ashore and a building course.
As you can see, the base made our work much easier. I am unloading peat briquettes from the tractor link box.
