Day Six: My Last, Glorious Day in Scotland

Being situated on the North Sea, one would think that Aberdeen's lifeblood comes from the sea. And while most of it's wealth does, the characteristics of many seaside towns aren't heavily present in Aberdeen's overall culture. The architecture alone draws enough interest, but I've been amazed by how the shopping industry of a normal city and the presence of many, many pubs has instead dictated the overall feel of the culture.

Having noted this discrepancy, Mom and I set out in search of the local fish market--or more accurately, the location where it's held, since it opens at dawn and closes at 8...that's AM, folks. We wandered down Market Street past the harbor filled to the brim with cargo ships and never saw hide nor hair of any market location. As most things in my travels go, this was a happy accident because we decided to just continue our walk and discovered an entire different section of the city across the River Dee. The buildings here were beautiful, but not quite so grand. Little shops and restaurants dotted the residential area, and it was here that we discovered another item on Mom's list to check off; she had been keeping her eye out for a local flower shop and until now, we had only seen shops selling premade boquets out of buckets on the sidewalk. So, imagine what a happy accident it was to find two flower shops on this side of the River Dee. We popped into a little shop and chatted with a very nice woman about the flower trade and where in America we're from. Like most local people we've come into contact with, the residents here seem to have an attachment to the states and at least outwardly don't seem to share the disdain I've seen many other countries hold for Americans.

Anyway, after our lovely chat, we took the bus back to city center and then out to Duthie Park. I was taken aback to see how large this park was. Here we found beautifully maintained walkways and the occasional family going for a walk in the gorgeous weather. We meandered our way over to the David Welch Winter Gardens, one of Europe's largest indoor gardens that features a Temperate House, Corridor of Perfumes, Fern House, Victorian Corridor, Japanese Garden, Tropical House and an Arid House (that was closed due to vandalism...boo!) At least I didn't come all that way to see cacti. I'm so glad we were in the area long enough to part from the typical sights in Aberdeen. This venue looked like a charming place to come fight off the blues during a long Scottish winter.

Having skipped morning tea (don't forget, we eat like hobbits and I didn't even mention second breakfast...or elevensies.) Mom and I were famished. After the long wait for our bus back to City Center, we decided to forgo anything new and stick with what we knew was good: Old Blackfriars Pub. We popped in for a bite to eat before meeting Emily on the square just outside.

Ever since Mom got her free Guinness glass, I've had a bit of envy. And considering the method most others choose to obtain theirs, I went with the road most traveled and left with my souvenir discreetly packed next to the excessive amounts of granola bars in my bag. Don't condemn me; I did it for John.

With not a Bobby in sight, we met Emily and made plans to take the bus back out to the beach to see if we could poke around a bit more and get closer to the lighthouses we had seen on our first day. By this time, my night owl sleep habits and the fact that I hadn't recharged with a nap the previous day were really starting to catch up with me. I had successfully avoided jetlag so far, but I remember nodding off while standing up, waiting for the number 15 bus. It was not pretty. I was about to concede defeat and beg for a room key to go take a nap at the hotel when our bus finally showed up and Mom and Emily assured me if I had to, I could sleep on the beach. At the moment, I was willing to take anything I could get.

I cat-napped on the bus and could almost hear the hallelujah chorus when I stumbled off at our stop and saw a sign that read: We Proudly Brew Starbucks Coffee! Yes! They should be proud! The Scots know their way around a great cup of tea, but when it comes to coffee, instant granules are about as much as you can hope for. It was depressing, really, if you stopped to think about it. Needless to say, I shuffled into the cafe, begged for a caramel macchiato...and there was much rejoicing. I have no remorse whatsoever. They may be a gigantic corporation, but GOD BLESS STARBUCKS!

Significantly more energized, I followed Mom and Emily out to the beach where I stopped to enjoy my coffee, the world becoming a brighter place all the time. After we had rested, we set out to explore closer to the harbor Mom and I had passed early that morning...just on the opposite side.

Remember what I said about happy accidents? And taking aimless walks? Well, put that one in the memory bank, because we stumbled across my favorite little residential neighborhood while meandering about near the harbor. It was bordered by the sea on one side, a beach on another, the harbor, where impressive boats enter and depart regularly, and on it's back side sat the ship yards. This little cluster of short, cozy houses just absolutely warmed my heart. I could see wives and children making these little houses into welcome homes for the men working on the boats. Just absolutely lovely. If John gives up his job to work on an oil rig in the North Sea, you'll know why.

By this time, we were all coming down off the energy burst at the beginning of our walk and still had a hike back to City Center. A trip back to the hotel for a nap was out of the question, so we hoofed it back to Union Street and popped into The Hog's Head for a pint...where I left with another souvenir glass. It's a good thing I didn't stumble upon this discovery earlier, or I might have created a habit that would prove hard to break once I got home. As it is, I'll leave my light handed habits in Scotland.

Emily had been craving pizza (I'm talking authentic Italian here, not Domino's) for a few days and since we were all about at our limit with pub food, we jumped at the opportunity to find something new for dinner. In a series of trial and error, we found a fancy italian restaurant that did take-away dinners on the side of their restaurant. While Mom and Emily ordered, I reconnoitered and found a park to sit down on a bench to eat. It might have been my favorite meal yet. This particular park was in a residential area; we watched locals walk their dogs, stopping to chat with each other and a group playing an informal game of soccer while we enjoyed some phenomenal pizza and garlic bread. This is the life, folks. It was already a top night and to make it even better, we stopped for a sticky toffee pudding on the way home. Between the three of us, it probably took less than two minutes to inhale that delicious treat...and I'm not ashamed to admit it.

Back at the hotel room, we received a surprise offering; an extra set of towels from housekeeping sat outside our door like a gift from Saint Nicholas! The entire week, housekeeping had been servicing the room, (even when we put out the do not disturb sign) and had taken three sets of towels and left two. Meaning, every night we had to explain to the front desk staff why we needed more towels (greedy Americans!) It became a running joke as the responses from the staff varied from: "Ok, Leave a note then." *click* to "What? Goodbye!" By the time I left, I think we had accumulated five full sets of towels, including as many bath mats. It was a nice lesson in: Just because we both speak English, doesn't mean we can communicate.

Tomorrow morning I leave Scotland and just like my departure from the states, it is bittersweet. If my husband and babies were here with me, I would never want to leave. And maybe that's why I was sent without them. Because, as it is, I am giddy with excitement to see John when I come through the arrival gate in Pasco and I cannot wait to hug and kiss my girls when they wake up in the morning. Next time I will just have to bring them with me. Then you'll be seeing the post titled: "How We Moved to Scotland and Bought a Distillery"

Drinks all around!

Day Five: I am a Traveler, Not a Tourist...I think.

When John and I went on our honeymoon in the BVI, our host picked us up at the airport and in the 45 minute treck from the airport to our bungalow, asked us what our plans were for the week. Would we be shopping? Snorkeling? Sailing? Touring the island? Diving in the coral reef?

No.

No. No. No.

We wanted to do nothing. And that we did: we stayed at our private bungalow in our little bay and took in the culture, ate the local food, shopped at the grocery stores, wandered in the neighborhoods and when we people-watched, we made fun of the tourists.

That is still my ideal kind of vacation, but when you've got less than a week to try to see an entire country, it has a tendency to turn into a frenzy to pack as much in as possible. And there is nothing wrong with that. You make do with what you've got and make the most of once-in-a-lifetime experiences.

I think I've already made clear my particular style of travel; it involves lazy walks and pleasant surprises. I'm also obviously all for checking things off 'the list'. And before I came to Scotland, visiting the home of the Loch Ness Monster seemed to be one of those items. I'm afraid the hardest part of traveling sometimes is deciphering what's genuine and what is a blatant tourist trap. And boy, did we stumble into one today.

We started our day out at the train station where we picked up our tickets to Inverness (about 30 minutes from Loch Ness). We grabbed a coffee and did some window shopping before hopping on the train, which took us two hours through the countryside and allowed us a view of the back-ends of most towns along the way.

Inverness itself is charming. We couldn't have asked for a more beautiful day; we strolled along the river before deciding to split up for an hour. Mom and I were starving and Emily was itching to see some of the sights, so she went off exploring while Mom and I hit up a local grocery store and had a picnic lunch along the gorgeous riverside. I know what you're all thinking: What? No ale? Well, we did have a pint of a lovely local beverage. I don't know if you've ever heard of it, but here it's called milk...from happy Scottish cows. It was grand!

After debating at length whether something we saw in the river was a stick or a baby loch ness monster, Mom and I packed up our leftovers and met up with Emily.

One of the main points of this excursion was to make our way out to Urquhart Castle (in Loch Ness), which is the famous site most commonly associated with the villiage at Loch Ness and, ergo, Nessie herself. We hopped a bus, rode the half hour to the castle parking lot and walked down to the visitor's center where they announced it'd be another seven pounds to get to walk to the castle. At this point, my inner traveler started cringing. It was happening. If I paid that seven pounds for the privilege to walk on castle ruins, I would have officially crossed the line from traveler to tourist. We walked along the upper edge of the lookout and saw people on a tour boat, crowded to the edge, cameras snapping away. I shuddered. These could not be my people. This is not how I travel.

It was almost comical to see how inhospitable they had made the bus waiting zone outside the ticket area, but I plunked myself down on a wooden rail next to some German ladies to evesdrop. I was pleasantly surprised to learn that my language skills aren't nearly as bad as I thought and I was even happier to hear that I had found my people. These ladies were joking back and forth about how much their pictures of the castle had cost compared to their friends who paid the seven pounds to walk down. They also thought they would be able to remember the experience better, not having spared themselves the money. They were a bubbly lot and it was nice to hear I wasn't the only stick in the mud who refused to be sucked into a touristy gimmick.

As luck would have it, another bus back to Inverness arrived shortly and we enjoyed the beautiful scenery on the way back. Loch Ness is on the cusp of the Highlands and the country really is gorgeously hilly, with rivers, streams and lochs intersperrsed throughout. It also helped to know that we were on our way back to the city of Inverness.

It is so difficult to adequately describe the differences between the three large cities we've visited so far. Each one has it's individual charm and unique aspects, but somehow Inverness manages to remain it's majestic architecture and an almost small-town charm. The Ness River runs through the city center and beautiful buildings and churches line each side. Picturesque bridges for pedestrians and cars cross the river every few blocks and all the while the pink sandstone casle (turned court house) looks over the city.

Not only is the scenery inviting, but the people seemed more outwardly friendly and helpful. I couldn't keep track of how many times I saw people greet each other on the street and stop to catch up. There were also more mothers with their babies, racked out or sitting up, smiling at strangers, in their prams than I've seen in Aberdeen and Edinburgh put together. All in all, it seemed like a lovely community to live in...and I didn't even step foot into a single pub. How's that for a recommendation?

We were all sad to leave Inverness, but we had to make our way back to Aberdeen for the night. We took the train back home and stopped for some bottled beer on the way home to drown our sorrows. (Also, lest we should be kicked out of the country for lack of beer consumption.) Tomorrow is my last full day in Scotland; Mom and I have plans to go exploring the fish market area and investigate the lighthouses on the far end of the beach. We're also hoping to find some decent fish and chips. I really have enjoyed my time abroad, but I can feel it is time for me to come home to my girls. I miss their sweet faces and want their snuggles. Tomorrow will be another great day of adventure, but also a day closer to seeing my three favortie people in this world.

Day Four: Checking off the List

This morning we woke to an overcast sky; it's a miracle we've come this far with such beautiful weather. Emily had a full day at her conference, so after breakfast, mom and I made plans to find out if we could make it to Fyvie on the bus to visit a nearby caslte. The public transportation in Scotland, for the most part, is pretty amazing, but the fares vary incredibly--anywhere from one to ninety pounds depending on the combination of your destination and the way the wind's blowing. We were hoping the fares to nearby Fyvie would be reasonable, even at the bus station, but it was through the roof, so we contented ourselves with making a list of places and things we hadn't had the chance to do yet and set out to check off our list.

First off was a pub we had heard great things about. Now, we weren't attempting to have a pint for second breakfast, it was purely a trip to reconnoiter so we could make our way back in the evening. Tea is more appropriate for that time of day anyway, so we made our way to a quaint shop that sold bulk tea (very similar to my favorite tea shop back home) and took in the wonderful aromas.

In our ramblings, we also happened upon St. Mary's Cathedral. Really, you can't throw a stone in Aberdeen without hitting an old church...and I mean that literally. There are so many majestic church spires filling the sky that it's nothing to take note of. So much that we hadn't even set foot in one yet. There are just too many to chose from--enough that a good number of them actually have been converted into restaurants, stores and pubs. Anyway, since we were walking by and the doors were open, we popped our heads inside. I lit a candle for the girls, which I've never done before, and even though I'm not catholic, I'm sure God still heard me.

Most of the museums in the city have free admission, so we stopped in the Aberdeen Art Gallery and marveled (read: snickered behind our hands) at the modern art on display. Even better were the discriptions of each work by the artists. My personal favorite was a large, grotesque photo of someone's fat (and I mean, loose-skin-fat) belly smooshed against plexiglass. Now, I find nothing funny about fat people...or people who previously were fat and now have skin rolls. I don't even take issue with seeing pictures of it, but this... This was art! I think they might have been desparate to fill the gallery. Either way...it was a check. What's up with the Art Gallery? Check, check.

We laughed our way down to The Ambercrombie Pub for a bite to eat...and...I'm sure you've already guessed: a pint. (When in Rome!) The pubs here make a habit of serving each individual beer in a glass bearing it's name; Mom's drink of choice is Guinness on tap and the glasses here are beautiful. The whole time we've been here, Mom has been wondering if any pubs might consider selling one to her, so she finally broke down and asked. The manager told her no, they couldn't sell one...but she could have one for free. And, by the way, most people just steal them, so thanks for asking. Best. souvenir. ever.



We left the Ambercrombie on a high and promptly checked off another item on our list by jumping on a random double-decker bus. We rode on top in the very front seat for about two blocks before hopping back off...since we had no idea where that bus was going. Luckily, it put us down right in front of our favorite little shop. This place has an eclectic mix of furnishings, decor, plush toys...and leather purses that make you want to rub your face on the soft exterior and stick your head in them just to breath in the heady aroma. I promise we didn't do either of those things, but we've popped in to visit 'our handbags' so often we're worried the owners might think we're casing the joint.

In any case, we skipped out before they could call the Bobby's and went back to the hotel for some rest before our evenings activities (like how I make it sound like we're sooo busy while on vacation? Positively swamped! I don't know how we get it all done!) I have an annoying habit of staying up late at night, waking up early in the morning and then napping in the afternoon while Mom and Emily iron out travel and eating plans. Today was no different. I happen to really enjoy waking up to find out what activities are in store for me.

We decided (see how I used 'we' there?) to hit up an Indian restaurant called The Jewel In The Crown. It was a reccommendation from a friend of a friend of Emily's and it was a good thing it was Mom's first curry experience, because the food and service were both incredible. I'm all for eating local food as part of the travel experience and I would actually consider this local fare. It was totally authentic and cooked to order. The staff was genuinely helpful and hospitable. If you're ever in this neck of the woods, I recommend looking it up.

The only downside to our incredible meal was how much food there was and the lack of refrigeration in our hotel room. We were debating what to do with our leftovers when a homeless man asked Emily if she had any spare change. He ended up with a phenomenal curry dinner instead. Feed the homeless. Check!

Since we had water (gasp!) with our dinner at The Jewel, and the night was still young, we popped into The Howff, the pub we had investigated earler this morning. I think this might be my favorite, most authentic pub yet. The bartenders and patrons were all local and since it's a hole in the wall and downstairs on a busy, crowded street, this came as no surprise. I have a habit of getting a pint of whatever's on cask; I haven't had the same beer twice and I've also not been disapointed. The seating here was charming with combinations of tables and cozy chairs. We opted to sit in an alcove with two couches; it was like drinking a pint at home. I am honest when I say I wish you all were here. I'd love to have a pint with you. Instead, it appears I'm attempting to drink enough to make up for your absence. Never let it be said that I was one to back down from a challenge.

On our way home, we were fortunate to catch another double-decker bus, so Emily got to have the experience too. We were so engrossed in how entertaining it is to be up high enough to see in people's second story windows that we got off of the bus too early. Way too early. So early, we had to take a potty break. And guess where that was? McDonalds. Potty break at McDonald's in Scotland? Check!

We've obviously been having too much fun. Emily is taking the day off from her conference tomorrow and we've purchased tickets on the train to Inverness, home of the Loch Ness Monster. This is another 'check' in itself, but we're hoping to be able to do some hiking and exploring of the countryside while we're there. Tea and ale will likely be involved as well, but hopefully not at the same time.

Cheers!

Scotland: Day Three

Our bus trip yesterday wasn't much to write home about. A bus by any other name still smells...well, you get the point.

The countryside here is obviously beautiful; the number of sheep alone is fairly indicative of what the main form of industry here is.

We arrived at our hotel yesterday evening and were in a bit of a funk, having been uprooted from magestic Edinburgh and subjected to the eclectic patrons of the bus line. We checked in to the Holiday Inn Express (It's free, so I'm not complaining) near the conference center, which is pretty secluded from downtown Aberdeen. It took a while to settle in to our room and deal with the logistics of towels, bedding and delivery food. Let me just tell you that ordering Chinese food from someone with a Scotish accent was not one of my proudest moments, but it certainly was memorable.

Today we started the day out right with the hotel's breakfast, which being a chain still clings to the same standards an American Holiday Inn would, but there is a distinct Scotish flair. Emily checked in with her conference and then the three of us headed downtown on the bus. We poked around the city a bit before deciding to take advantage of our newly-aquired bus passes and head over to the beach.

Aberdeen is situated on the North Sea and draws most of its wealth from the offshore oil industry. It's harbors are filled with supply ships, but the beach to the north of City Center is clear and calm. Oil ships dot the seascape and several lighthouses are visible in the distance. A small strip of quaint restaurants adjoins the sea strand as does a fantastically cheesy carnival and arcade area. We chose to miss out on the ferris wheel and roller coaster rides to escort Emily back to City Center so she could hop the bus back to the conference center for a few sessions. Unfortunately, E is actually here for a reason and occasionally has to drop back to reality, which leaves Mom and me in the precarious situation of two small children in a candy shop. We are both giddy with the excitement of travel and are enjoying just reveling in the small discoveries of each location we visit.

After fortifying ourselves with a pint and a bite to eat at The Blackfriar Pub, we set out to explore. Aberdeen is fantastic unto itself. Edinburgh may be able to boast a number of historically significant sights, but Aberdeen's old world architecture simply seems to blend seamlessly with the modern shops, restaurants, and, especially, the pubs...of which there are many...and we are so very thankful.

Mom and I wandered aimlessly around the city, discovering beautiful gardens, mossy cemeteries and always, gorgeous domes, church spires and impressive building facades filling the skyline.

After stopping back at the hotel for a bit of rest, we headed out to Ma Cameron's Pub for dinner. They claim to be the oldest pub in Aberdeen, but we're suspecting they just put up the plaque and no one has bothered to ask them to take it down. The atmosphere was fantastic and the food your typical pub fare. I have a feeling I'll be done with comfort food by the time I get back home,but oh, will I miss the beer!

Scotland: Departure and Days One and Two

23. August 5:12am Drinking Coffee, waiting until it’s time to leave for the airport

Saying goodnight and goodbye to the girls last night was probably one of the most painful things I’ve had to do as a parent so far. Honestly, I was thankful for the pain of separation—I have a tendency to distance myself, emotionally, from most intense situations and the thought actually came to mind as I was tearing up singing them to sleep: “Wow…it’s nice to feel SOMEthing.” I’m not claiming to be made of stone, but mostly I fear that being emotionless is something I could easily fall back to in certain situations. That may be strange, but it's how I roll. So, having that spontaneous, strong emotional experience with my girls was wonderful for me. Even if it involved emotional pain, the fact that my love for those two incredible little people goes so deep was more of a reassurance in itself: I’m doing right with this Mama thing. There is no doubt in my mind or in my heart that caring for those girls is the most important job I will ever have.

Now that most of the packing is done, the lists upon lists of instructions and schedules are distributed and posted, I feel a great peace that God has led me through this process—that the girls are in his care. I am free to scamper off to Scotland to spend time with my mother and sister. Gold only knows what shenanegans the three of us will get into. I’m ready for an adventure!

24. August 6:40am (local) Amsterdam Airport

Second breakfast? Or bedtime snack? I can’t make up my mind.

As I had expected, my trans-Atlantic flight was more of a vacation than I’ve had in a long time. What do you mean I can’t leave my seat and you’re just going to supply me with food and beverages for the next seven hours? Torture!

I lucked out and for the most part, traveling has been very smooth so far. There have been no delays and no annoying seat partners. For my flight overseas, I was seated next to a young man who has been in the military for 13 years. He has been on three tours in Afghanistan and on his most recent, lost a leg. He was flying back to his station in Dusseldorf from the (American)Midwest, where he had been visiting family and being fitted for a spare prosthetic. One would expect a person who had been through so much to have a bleak or even jaded outlook on life, but instead he had a calm, content manner. He was quick to laugh and even nonchalant when apologizing that he might jerk in his sleep because of nightmares. In all of his comments there was no anger or bitterness, just calm, resolute acceptance.

I know it’s odd to go on at length about someone who might as well be a stranger, but to tell the truth, I was inspired by this gentleman. Maybe it's because I'm a mother hen without any chicks, but I've felt a strong need to keep him in prayer as he leaves the military this year and continues on in life. Here I was thinking God would use this trip to allow me to spread His light a little further in the world and the Lord is already showing me instead where He has placed His light in others.

So far at the airport I've recconoitered and discovered that the Starbucks accepts Brittish pounds. Consider this my last ditch effort to cling to my Americanism. At the moment I'm bound and determined to avoid jet lag. Does wandering around like a zombie in desparate search of coffee count as a success or denial?

From here I'm off to Edinburgh and, Godwilling, a nap once I make it to our Bed and Breakfast.

25. September 5pm (local) Edinburgh Glenisla Bed and Breakfast

Got into Edinburgh and through customs with no problems. Hopped in a cab and enjoyed the peaceful twenty minute ride to our B&B. I got here around 10:30am--way before check-in. I was so thankful that our room was ready. I stumbled up the stairs to our room, devoured my portion of welcoming shortbread and promptly passed. out.

After I woke up, I found out Mom's flight had been significantly delayed and I had more time on my hands than I expected, so I did one of the things I love most about traveling: I explored.

The Glenisla is in a residential area a few miles from the Royal Mile, so I set out with no destination in mind and tried to be aware of what turns I was making, so's not to get completely lost. So far, I love this place. It's the beginning of Fall; leaves are starting to turn and the weather is that glorious combination of cool breezes and warm sunshine. Everything here in Old Town is just that: Old. But it has been charmingly maintained and cared for over the years. Like many places across the pond, the front doors here are the centerpiece of the home's facade. I love the bright pops of color amongst the weathered brick and stone.

Everything here is so very real; coming from the land of pre-fab houses, laminate flooring and composite wood, it is so refreshing to see old stone walls, aging statues and ornate wood trim so dated, the layers of paint have created a second skin. There is lush greenery everywhere and like everything I've seen so far, there is pride in maintaining a green haven in every front yard. These people are in their homes and outside: working, clipping, planting, playing, chatting,--living.

It is beautiful...It is breathtaking...and I haven't seen a single castle yet.

25. September 3:30pm On the bus to Dundee/Aberdeen

Last night Emily and Mom finally caught up with me at our B&B. They took enough time to eat their shortbread (are we predictable or what?) freshen up and then we were out the door headed for dinner, as most of us hadn't had a proper meal in over 12 hours. Luckily, Mom was in charge of organizing activities and we headed to a place called Mum's where we ate meat pies as big as our heads and drank ale. We were all a bit loopy from travel and sleep deprivation, so after dragging our distended bellies out of the restaurant, we headed straight back to Glenisla and promptly passed. out.

True to form, we were the first ones up and at 'em and down to breakfast; we enjoyed a traditional full Scotish breakfast of tea/coffee and toast, eggs, bacon, sausage, beans, tomatoes, mushrooms, a potato scone (which is more of a potato pancake)and let's not forget: haggis! I have to admit that this particular haggis was not authentic in the sense of an American's expectation of haggis; it was not off-colored or cooked in a sheep's stomach and it contained meat only from the socially acceptable bits of animals. Therefore, it was not horrifyingly disgusting to eat...as I had expected it would be. I found haggis actually quite tasty, if not my ideal breakfast fare.

After chatting with our host, Graham, about our day's activities, we packed up and headed out to make arrangements for our bus trip later in the day and then set out to see Edinburgh: The City.

And let me tell you: it is a city...a big one. Full of magestic castles, royal residences and beautful churches. Sprinkled in among these beautiful relics are modern stores, restaurants, pubs and street musicians (only here they play bag pipes and wear kilts). We walked The Royal Mile from The Edinburgh Castle to Holyrood House and stopped in between for tea and pastries.

Edinburgh really is an intriguing mix of old world beauty and new age Klass (with a K, folks). Overall, I'm glad we had the opportunity to stay overnight in Edinburgh's residential Old Town area--it charmed me to the core. Had it not been for the familiarity and affection I felt toward it's private residents, I might have found the city's larger attractions almost lacking in character and overwhelming.
The three of us aren't much for the tourist aspects of traveling, so I'm glad we found a few holes in the wall to grab a pint or cup of tea and enjoy Edinburgh out of the hustle and bustle of those eager to have checked off their must-see list from the guide books.

Now we are off to Aberdeen where we will be based for the duration of our trip. We're going by bus and I am excited to get out of the city to experience some of Scotland's countryside.

,

What the Schweighardts Don't Need

In my last post I hit on the concept of need vs doing without and since, personally, I've canvassed this topic before, I'd like to do a little recap of how things have changed this time around as I've sorted through our possessions.

Last year, I initially mainly attacked my wardrobe and established the number of items I would like to have in each category (i.e. pants, shirts, socks, sweaters, etc.) The concept was for each new item of clothing added, one would have to be taken out and donated. I've actually had an almost total turn-over of the items in my wardrobe since then. I decided that if I had a limited number of items they might as well be ones I like. And I'm very happy with how that has worked out. Packing for trips is a breeze! I just have to make sure my clothes are clean and I pack them. All of them. And it doesn't even take up half my suitcase. Joy!

Now, on the other hand, I still have a jacket/coat obsession. I have at least as many jackets as I do shirts. They speak to me and I speak back: "Hello, gorgeous, where have you been all my life?" I have issues. I'm working on it.

Last year I went through the girls toys and pulled out anything that was specifically baby-ish. This time around, I've gone at it like gangbusters. Who needs that many stuffed animals? really? It's hard putting them in bags because they're so cute and furry, but someone else can love them too, mmkay? Overall, I've re-organized the girls dress-up to all fit in a chest (that we already had, but was filled with stuff we don't need) so I could condense their toys onto one shelving unit and get rid of two plastic storage units they were also occupying.

Now, our kitchen is another story. I cook. A lot. And I require a lot of specific utensils/supplies/gadgets to get the job done the way I like it. It has been hard to sift through all the items I particularly like using and decide how vital they are to my kitchen. The biggest twinge I'm feeling here is how much space my canning stuff requires since I'm not canning this year and the jars are totally EMPTY and taking up a ridiculous amount of space. I may give them to a friend who would use them and be cool with me requesting some back if I change my mind next year.

I also have recently become disgusted by how many ingredients I have bought for specific meals...that never get made...and then those ingredients land on my pantry shelves...never to be eaten.

I don't necessarily feel they should be donated to others, but that I should be making it a priority to get that food into my family's bellies. I feel like ignoring those jars and cans sitting on my shelves and going out to purchase more food at the store subsequently creates even more waste.

I understand the need to have a stock of food...in case of an emergency (that's what the ramen is for) or to have much-used items on hand. But these items? They ain't moving. And I aim to get them on our table. Let's actually consume what we've purchased, eh?

So, until I leave for Scotland, I'm committing myself to making pantry/freezer meals. That means pretty much the only things I'm buying are fresh produce and bread from the farmer's market and milk for the young'uns.

Let's not even mention the week's worth of freezer meals I've put by to make sure no one starves to death while I'm gone. But, outside of that, I think I could easily feed my family from the stock we already have for darn near a month.

So far I've only pulled spaghetti chicken and wild rice casserole out of that lot, but there is much, much more to come. I'll keep you updated on my how-much-food-is-actually-in-that-pantry saga.

Overall, I feel like this particular episode of purging things from our home has been a good thing. I consider it successful in that it has caused pretty much everyone in the house to evaluate their own possessions...instead of me just trying to find things that no one cares about any more to donate to Goodwill.

I hope that this will set an overall trend for the future of our home: the desire to live with less and make do with what we already have. As with any life goal, however, it's going to require regular maintenance and specific intent to accomplish.

Maybe I'll find myself checking in, yet again, next year with another need-related post. It'll probably be more in line with an intervention: "What The Willian Doesn't Need: More Jackets"

On Doing Without...

We've been purging things around the good 'ole Schweighardt Complex lately, and boy, oh, boy, is it going to feel good once we actually get it all out of the house.

Our church is hosting a swap and sale this weekend and it has inspired us to start looking at our material possessions in a different way. You may be feeling a bit of deja vu, since I covered this topic last year, but I'm starting to realize there is a very big difference between what you need and what you can do without.

Enter: the swap and sale. What exactly is a swap and sale? I'm so glad you asked. Because I had no idea either.

A gal from our church has been inspired by Acts 2 verse 45 (under the heading of 'The Fellowship of the Believers"): "And they were selling their possessions and belongings and distributing the proceeds to all, as any had need."

What is significant about this passage is that the seemingly simple act of selling their possessions was not simple at all. Most of these people were not rich. They were simple people with possessions befitting their station in life. The items these believers were selling were things commonly seen as needed. Instead, they went without those possessions in order to give to those who really needed them.

Beautiful. Just beautiful.

And totally out of the norm for our society.

So, the church has volunteered to host this swap and sale, in which, all this week, the church family drops off items they don't need. Volunteers come in to organize all the items and on Saturday morning the entire church is invited to come early to see if there is anything among those items that they are in actual need of. Later in the day, it turns into a sale that is open to the rest of the community by donation. All the money raised from the sale portion of this event goes to support missions.

Very cool concept. And I am obviously pumped up about the upcoming event. Not only am I looking forward to seeing what other people have discovered they don't need, but I can't wait to see how those physical possessions can become a blessing in someone else's life.

Now, how about you? What are you living with that you don't need? What can you do without? Really think about it and then do it!

The times, they are a changin'

Change ain't easy, y'all. And I'm sure that's the understatement of the century, but bear with me here. Parenting is really a never-ending series of mercurial situations.

Before Bailey was born, it felt like the world revolved around me and Audrey--the best duo ever. I had a hard time leading up to Bailey's arrival, letting go of that little life A and I had created with each other. Everything we knew was about to change drastically.

And then Bailey cannon-balled into existence.

It was a huge adjustment, but man, oh, man. Somehow our trio managed to blow anything we had before right out of the water.

Then my big girl went to preschool today for the first time. Like, for real--I just dropped her off and she left me without even turning back to say goodbye for the twenty sixth time. Wow. That hit me in the chest like a ton of bricks.

I felt a little emotional, but you know who took it the hardest? My little vivacious Bailey Monster. She cried when Audrey left.

Our sweet trio is being altered again and I know it's going to be great. But the growing pains in between are what really get ya.

When we picked Sister up from preschool, Bailey was the first one to greet her. Heck, she would've plucked Audrey right out of her classroom if it weren't for the amazingly furry animals in her path.

Audrey fetched her backpack from her peg like a pro as we set out to leave. She said she had fun; that she drew 'circles and two snakes' and that they played games. She's going to be just fine. And Bailey and me? Well, I suppose we'll be alright too.

Stomping on the Breaks

Apparently glorious, beautiful, relaxing holiday weekends have a tendency to make my mind cease to function. And, yes, I'm talking about LAST weekend. John took the Friday before Labor Day off, so we all got to have a four day weekend. Kathryn was in town with Ollie and my entire week leading up to that had consisted of play dates and activities that required no responsibilities on my part.

Now, this week? This week felt like I was stepping on the breaks, but never actually managed to come to a complete halt.

What do you mean, there are no groceries? And I have to go work out with the twenty new people who signed up for my class? And Audrey is going to meet her preschool teacher? And I have meetings to attend and work days to put time into? It's still summer! Stop, stop, stop, stop!!

Whew!

On top of that, John has been feeling sick most of the week, so I've devoted a lot of my time trying to make sure the girls and I are fending off germs. Orange juice, honey, vitamins, echinacea, lemon ginger tea, more orange juice. And can I just say: It's still summer!! This is not the time for colds! Somebody get that memo out.

Anyway, this week was not the end of it. I've got our first MOPS group meeting of the year tomorrow morning and it is also Audrey's first day of preschool...and I have bunco that night as well. There are a slew of activities going on just about every day until the end of the month (which really feels like it should be much farther away) when I abandon my husband and children to go frolic in Scotland.

Now, reading this, I can understand how someone would think I'm incredibly overwhelmed and stressed out. And here's the part that's creeping me out a bit: I'm not stressed. I'm not worried about any of it. I'm having fun. (aside from the sicky stuff. That's never fun.)

I may not always be on my A-Game. The girls are still going to wear down my patience and I'm occasionally going to run out of the house like a chicken with my head cut off, but the difference is that in all these things, I'm giving it over to the Lord. There is no reason to lose sleep over things I have limited control over.

That is the ever-loving story of my life right now.

Now on to my next week of craziness! I'll at least attempt to take a break to post some pictures of A on her first day of school!

...maybe then I'll actually concede that Fall is coming.

The Football Widow

I don't know about everyone else's neck of the woods, but Fall seems to be trying to show it's face around the Tri-Cities. And the restless menfolk are starting to gravitate more and more to the Man Cave for football games...at least that's what I'm assuming is going on down there. They could just be grunting and making fire. What happens in the Man Cave stays in the Man Cave.

Anyway, I'm assuming this means I'll have more time to sit here in the silence and blog.

And, honestly, I'm a little hesitant to write a status update because things around here generally seem to be going really well. Wouldn't want to jinx it.

Fine. Twist my arm. But if Bailey starts waking up at night or coloring on the walls, you're to blame.

This week has been a break from my workout routine, which usually takes up three mornings a week. I thought I was going to get to take advantage of all that free time to knock a lot of things off the to-do list that have been sitting there for months...But, the kitchen is still half painted and all the junk drawers still contain the same level of junk. The mud room is no more organized than it was a month ago and I still haven't managed to throw away a single tube of Audrey's lip gloss. (Thanks again, Uncle Joe. I'm sure you had no idea how sticky and glittery it was when you bought it.)

I guess some people would see my lack of productivity as failure, but I'm going to go ahead and give myself a high five anyway because I blew it all off to have fun.

It was all a sacrifice for the children, of course. Anything to further their development.

We've had some sort of play date every day this week and it has been fantastic. Kap and Ollie are in town too, so the girls have gotten to see a lot of friends and family they don't regularly see. As an added bonus, I've gotten a lot of fellow Mama interaction, which anyone who is a Mom knows is pretty vital for survival in this line of work. It's nice to talk shop with other Moms, get advice, dole out more advice than you probably should and eat snack foods all morning.

Since John and I have decided we're done having children for the moment, it's also nice to live vicariously through those Mama's who have younger children than I do or are planning on expanding their families. I love hearing new baby names and finding out who has been hiding in those pregnant bellies. I adore squishy newborns, and squawking 9 month olds. I love the chaos of having oodles of screaming children loving on each other (or wrestling as a means of conflict resolution...sometimes it's hard to tell the difference). I also like knowing most of those little ones have parents to go home with. To be honest, sometimes I feel like I'm still waiting for Audrey and Bailey's real parents to show up. Like I could seriously be responsible for another human's total development. Who thought to put me in charge of that?

Speaking of wonderful baby news, our friends Jessica and Matt just found out they're having a baby boy. I am so excited! Mostly, I am thankful that they are having a beautiful, healthy baby, but also because I wanted to know who exactly was in there. Little Falcon (yes, that's what I'm referring to him as...and he should just be thankful he didn't turn out to be a Swanhilda) is going to be so loved and I am going to have to show some incredible restraint on the shopping front. Since my babies are no longer growing out of their clothing size every few weeks, I've been finding the compulsion to buy copious amounts of sweet teeny tiny outfits almost disturbing. I guess this would be Auntie fever?? Someone help me out. Is there a cure? God, I hope it's not terminal. What if John comes home one day to find me suffocating under a pile of baby clothes that fell off the top shelf of the closet?

I should probably store them in plastic tubs...under the bed so I don't trip and kill myself. Geez, this Auntie stuff is more dangerous than I realized. Maybe they need support groups too. We can meet at my house whenever the Seahawks are on. The men will be in the Man Cave eating nachos and shaking their fists at the TV. They'll never know we football widows are the ones having all the fun.

...but seriously. Send help. At this rate I'll be dead before the kitchen gets painted.


*photo credit: Seattle Urban Media