David lends both hands

Note: Nature is at the far end again.

Returning to Islay, David stopped off here for a couple of nights, helping me with the concrete and the porch (easy) and helping Tash with a cryptic crossword (less easy).

Although I’ve not yet had a chance to speak to planning about the concrete slab and shed (or more fundamentally the workshop’s deep overhang), I thought it worth casting the slab while the weather allowed and I had help. Immediately before starting I decided that the shuttering was a bit too small and the shed would lack elbow room, making it hard to set up and plumb, so I lengthened it to a metre and a half. We knocked up ten strong mixes in the barrow, taking turns to do two each, and filled the shuttering.

No sooner had we spread and tamped the final mix than the rain started. Hurriedly I leant a handy piece of OSB sheet over the wet concrete, screwing it to a wall batten to stop the wind dislodging it later, and draping all with some heavy, much reused polythene. We broke for lunch and the short-lived rain left us a reasonably fine afternoon in which to start making the soffit or ceiling of the porch.

As my ideas for the ceiling and hidden space changed, I moved the lighting cable, several times, to keep it out of the way. It will run one porch downlighter so you can see to get a key in the lock on a dark night and a light to illuminate the space between the buildings when needed (security/utility).

We wanted the space between the timber ceiling and tin roof to be big enough for a serious bat roost, leaving room beneath to house some swallows’ nests. Whether the resulting space is too small for larger bats (brown long eared) or too big for the smallest (pipistrelle) I don’t know. I stayed up on the scaffolding tower, measuring and fixing, while David found and cut larch to order.

The ceiling is in two halves, divided by the beam down its centre. I screwed a batten along each edge then simply screwed the ceiling boards up onto them.

Progress using 150mm wide boards was good and a pleasing way to use offcuts and less durable quality larch, not suited to more exposed conditions. By the end of the day we’d nearly finished and the ceiling was complete up to the corner post.

This morning we made a late start and it was sunny and cold, almost cold enough for gloves. We trimmed the bargeboard on the north of the plant room and bolted on the metal verge, finished the porch ceiling and added the swallow shelf before lunch.

Lunch was taken when we’d completed this work and we then rewarded ourselves with a walk at Loch Stornoway to introduce David to the standing stones and the river. Home for tea then David left for the six o’clock ferry and I went back up the scaffolding to make a front door for the bats…

Perhaps nature notes start here?

I unscrewed the board adjacent to the corner post, cut an opening and cut a ‘ladder’ leading up through it to the space above. My research is incomplete and I hope we get more than wasps nesting here. The space above the ceiling on the other side of the beam also needs an entrance but I’ll leave that until I know a bit more. This felt like pure fun, boosted by anticipation of swallows and bats discovering the facilities next year.

Recent rain (lots!) has made our ditches run and filled the ‘pond’. We assume we’ll have to line it to keep water all year, but it’s interesting to see it anything other than a raw scrape in the stony soil.

Assuming a liner is needed we’re undecided whether to go for butyl rubber (cheaper from a roofing shop) or bentonite (super-fine clay in a fabric matrix).

Before placing the porch timber lining, I removed this year’s swallows’ nest, which would otherwise have been sealed into the wall. It was surprisingly messy, with much more feather and grass than mud.

Perhaps the large number of grass stems was to bridge the gap over which the nest was built. The earth was crumbly with very little adhesion, not clay. There was a little sheeps’ wool; feathers were perhaps wood pigeon, though some appeared whiter, and at least one was longer and marked with dark blotches, reminiscent of a wading bird’s. Where had they collected them?

On our way to Loch Stornoway several small flocks of redwings crossed the road; no fieldfares yet.

David, many thanks again. You’re a star.