Ten years ago

Ten years ago at this time, I was in France. It was my first experience with international travel, my first time away from my parents for a significant period of time, my first opportunity to see the world through fresh eyes. I was seventeen.

During the trip, I solidified friendships with women who I continue to hold dear. I met a man who became (and continues to be) a very important person in my life. And I caught a glimpse of life outside the Midwest, and I understood what could be. I was very fortunate.

Although I know we won't reunite back on that bench in Aix-en-Provence this summer, my heart is there, remembering.

Maybe we will make it in the next ten years.

A Singular Woman

I love my dad. He got an e-mail address a year or so ago, and it's like an awesome alternative to texting with him. He sends random one-liners to me throughout the day. He has a thought, he sits down to write a sentence, and off it goes! He used to do the same thing through the physical mail, and sometimes he still does. I love receiving mail and instantly knowing the sender, just by his or her handwriting. Do you love that also? Do you, like me, worry it will be lost as more and more correspondence goes digital?

Recently, I received just such a piece of mail from him.

It was a clipping about my Grandma Ethel (his mother), probably from 1918 or 1919, when she became editor-in-chief of the IU student newspaper.

I didn't have many years to spend with my Grandma Ethel. Though she died when I was ten years old, she was almost 101 years old (she was born in 1896 and died in 1996, just a few months shy of her next birthday). My memories of her are in the nursing home where she spent her last years, bedridden, blind, and going deaf. She was a singular woman in her youth, however, and I am happy to have these glimpses from the past to animate my memories, breathing life into the frail, white-headed woman I recall.

In five years, at the press where I work, I was promoted from Editorial Associate, to Production Editor, to Lead Production Editor, finally to Managing Editor, which became official this month. I knew I was in the right business. It's in my blood.

Scotland: Blair Atholl and Stirling

Day Six: Blair Atholl

After seeing Edinburgh Castle the day before, apparently we couldn't get enough! We hopped a train (thanks to L's stellar train schedule-deciphering skills) and found ourselves in Blair Atholl. There was a lovely long lane that led to the castle.

This looked much more like a manor to me than a castle, but it was still grand and lovely, in spite of some non-period-related construction work on the exterior.

 

 

We weren't able to take photographs inside, except for the foyer where we entered, which had some nutty weapon designs and a lot of dead, stuffed animals (there was even a narwhal horn on the wall of one of the staircases!).

Blair Atholl felt much more homey and like real people might actually reside inside the rooms. There was a wedding about to take place in the ballroom, but we made sure to grab lunch in their cafe, our second time to eat in a castle in two days (Husband tried haggis chips, which is as close as any of us got to haggis proper).

The grounds of the castle boasted beautiful gardens, and we wandered about before the rain threatened and we hopped back on the train.

 

 

 

 

 

 There was a statue of naked Hercules. I'm not sure why...this area was called the "Hercules Garden" though.

There were even swans, though they appeared to be bad parents (note the eggs decidedly not in the nest)!

Oh, and I can't forget the hairy coos.

A totally lovely place, made more lovely by the gorgeous country setting.

Day Six: Stirling

The train then took us on to Stirling Castle for the afternoon. I've thus far failed to mention how many hills we climbed on this vacation, but the hill leading up to Stirling Castle was by far the worst. I began to have flashbacks of our last trip with L and M. I'm beginning to think they're a sadistic couple who enjoy torturing me physically. But I think they're actually strapping young people who forget I belong on a Victorian fainting couch rather than tromping hither and thither. I would never make it as a soldier storming any kind of castle. 

 

 

Stirling Castle offered a more kid-friendly interior, with reenactors dressed in period costume performing speeches and taking questions. One of the reenactors stopped a tourist with purple hair and said, "You must be of royal blood," because royalty was denoted by the color purple. 

Royalty at Stirling was also weirdly into unicorns, so I'm convinced they must have been early-era Bronies. 

We got to sit in the "thrones" in the great hall (which once held an entire ship that was wheeled in for a coronation dinner). Those royals knew how to party hard. 

Husband got to do a little preaching.

And we wandered around the castle's nooks and crannies, enjoying our last full day together, stopping for a celebratory Cornetto to top off a wonderful trip. 

 Balls. 

 

 Part of the castle was painted with this orange color. There was a reason for it, which I now forget, but I take it as further proof that royalty of Stirling was fabulous. 

 Creepy faux reenactors in the Great Kitchen. I half expected them to move when I turned my back. 

Nom. We had to have some, for Shaun and Ed. 

Oh, and M was totally EPIC.

We spent our last evening back at our favorite haunt, the Mercat, in their whisky bar area, putting to bed our Incredible Journey. We shared a taxi to the airport the next morning, flew to Heathrow together, and finally parted ways.

Until next time, my friends. Until next time. 

Scotland: Edinburgh

Day Three: We arrive in Edinburgh

After taking a plane from Islay to Glasgow and then a train from Glasgow to Edinburgh, we found our hotel and settled in. We didn't make it in one piece, however. For the last year or so, our largest suitcase had been dying a slow, painful death. Tiny black pieces of plastic had littered the ground wherever it rolled. We didn't realize it was quite so near the bitter end, however, so it had accompanied us for one last hurrah in faraway lands. After stuffing it with an amount of whisky questionable by customs standards, the suitcase finally succumbed. The plate inside gave way, and the wheels went out. Husband carried it on this last leg of its journey. I wish we could say that we gave it a beautiful burial at sea, or burned it in a pyre surrounded by flowers and prayer, but I'm afraid it probably met its end in a dumpster, neath crumpled papers and tourist offal (I don't really know...we unceremoniously abandoned it in our hotel room when we departed).

Our hotel was very clean, contemporary, and environmentally friendly, but it was the epitome of a micro-tel. The purchase of  a "comfort packages" got you a towel and soap (and probably extra toilet paper...). No wash cloth, though. We used clean socks instead (which we also unceremoniously abandoned upon departure). Space was saved in any way possible, and our room key had to be inserted into the wall before we could turn on any electricity. The only really bad thing was the horrible, awful, no good, very hard bed. But the place was otherwise economical and served its purpose well. 

I can't really emphasize how tiny this place was. Behind me, the door. 

We went out for a walk around the city that afternoon, but we soon became drenched in a downpour. We abandoned our search for a hat shop and returned to the hotel in time to see a beautiful DOUBLE RAINBOW.

We found some dinner at a really great place that became "our" spot, and we spent an uncomfortable night on those horrible, awful, no good, very hard beds. 

Day Four: Walkabout

Day four began with more walking around the city. We happened upon Saint Mary's Cathedral, and took in the stained glass windows designed by Sir Eduardo Paolozzi.

 

 

 

 

Then we wandered along the Water of Leith Walkway, enjoying the clear, beautiful weather. 

 

 

Day Four: Royal Botanic Gardens

Our next stop was at the Royal Botanic Garden. This was a top contender for my favorite part of the entire trip. The weather held up, and we wandered for hours. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Part of the gardens included the Queen Mother's Memorial Garden, with a small building with walls covered in seashells and a ceiling decorated with pinecones.

 

Day Four: Walkabout, Continued

We continued wandering, seeing the sights...

 

 

...stopping for more whisky...

...and finally locating the hat shop!

 

 

Day Five: Edinburgh Castle

We devoted this day to touring Edinburgh Castle, the behemoth that loomed above the city. 

Looking out over the city of Edinburgh. 

 

Castle entrance. 

Looking out over the city of Edinburgh. 

We gazed upon the Crown Jewels, which we couldn't take photos of. We saw the One O'Clock Gun, which is fired six days a week (every day except Sunday) at (you guessed it) 1:00 p.m. The tour guide said the gun had seen only one casualty -- an errant bird that crossed the gun's path at an inopportune moment. 

We looked down at a tiny cemetery where soldiers buried their dogs.

Do you see the name "Tinker"? 

We looked up at St. Margaret's Chapel, which is the oldest building in Edinburgh. 

There was a wedding happening in the chapel so we couldn't tour the inside, but we were treated to a little performance in front of the door.

Right outside of the chapel was Mons Meg. 

And we made sure to stop at the Edinburgh Castle Tea Room for a spot of tea and a scone (drool), because who wouldn't want to eat in a castle?

 

 

It was a historical, beautiful experience, shared with good friends and a surprising amount of sunshine.