It’s the festive season and we’ve been swimming in very soggy ground, here on the Croft, but a dry week ahead is forecast, at last - and for Christmas, what a bonus! It’s been the darkest, wettest autumn that I can recall.

The Mission Hall has taken a few small steps forward - after weeks of wrangling with the electricity providers, we finally have power, reinstated as of last Monday - hooray!!! And now, a new front outside bulkhead light thanks to the brilliant Davey, who renovated the barn/studio 17 years ago. I’ve persuaded him to help again with this project, along with several other lovely and talented local guys and he’s as excited as we are. Believe me, these are milestones.

And… as finding a good source of warmth for this large, airy space is of the essence, after much deliberation, we’ve settled upon a big, beautiful woodburning stove, which should be powerful enough to do the trick. It will arrive by the end of January, all being well. Only then, can we really begin to make progress with the transformation of this space.

Plastering, painting, panelling, track lighting, new facilities, doors and windows, floor-sanding and so on…. will one day soon transform this former place of religious worship into a very special exhibition space, to showcase the work of artists influenced and inspired by the spirit and essence of this remarkable corner of the North West Highlands..

We’ve found new homes for a few of the pews and will use and re-purpose the rest, with the help of a very talented local craftsman/woodworker.

Nothing much else can happen until the stove arrives from Holland, as it’s too cold to work in there in the meantime, without heat. We’ve had endless comments of support from local friends and neighbours who are thrilled to see this sombre, unassuming little building being brought back to life and looking a bit more loved now.

I’ve hung a wreath in the roadside window, along with battery-operated candles and it’s so much less dreary as people drive past. It’s a bit odd, the sense of being right on the road, in that everyone on the peninsula passes the door and can see what we’re doing. I am not used to that, it’s a bit unnerving!

I have learned that the key to making things happen isn’t about waiting for the perfect moment, as it may never come: it may arrive when you’re least expecting it!

If so, you have to seize the opportunity and start right there, where you are, with what you have. One step at a time. Big goals seem overwhelming when viewed all at once, but momentum seems to build through small, consistent action. Patience carries you through, allowing you to savour every little step along the road in this adventure. As does a willingness to try, to make mistakes along the way and to learn from them. And, oh, I will.

Small Steps