Today, I can't even see the big E on the eye chart, but tomorrow.....

Today I go in for Lasik eye surgery to correct my ridiculously near-sighted vision. I have wanted to have this done for years, but it's always been too expensive. Well, too expensive to justify spending THAT much money on just me for something I didn't HAVE to have since I could see just fine with my contact lenses. But a few years ago, my astigmatism in my right eye became bad enough that I could no longer see clearly with just a distance vision correcting lens in it. I needed a toric lens.

I had worn a toric lens in my right eye about 15 years ago with no problem, but when it "wore out", I returned to just normal soft lenses because torics were so expensive back then and I could see well enough without the astigmatism correction. That was no longer the case. Unfortunately, this time around I could not find a toric lens that would sit straight on my eye to save my life. I went through five different brands and two or three variations in each model, and each time, the lens would rotate about 5 degrees. That left me constantly rubbing my eye in an attempt to get the lens back into position. After struggling with this for over a year, I gave up. I started wearing my glasses to work and left wearing my contact lenses for the weekends. I hate wearing glasses. I haven't worn them regularly since getting my first pair of soft contact lenses in the summer of 1973.

I remember the day vividly. I lived at home. It was the summer between my freshman and sophomore year of college. I was heading to UC Santa Barbara in the fall after a year at junior college in Santa Maria. I remember I had to go to Santa Barbara to get them for some reason - probably because podunk Santa Maria didn't have doctors who gave them out yet. Part of the plan for the day was to tour the UCSB campus. I remember that when the lenses were first inserted in my eyes, it felt like I had a hair in my eye for just a few seconds. As soon as my eyes teared up a bit, I couldn't feel them at all. I also remember walking around on campus amazed at how clearly I could see the leaves on the eucalyptus trees, and how cool it was to have vision that was not boxed in by frames. I took to soft lenses like a duck to water. From that day on, I did not wear glasses again, except briefly upon arising or just before retiring for the night. For the past 20 years or so, I haven't even owned a pair of glasses. But now, I wear them daily once again.

A few months ago, my son-in-law's sister had Lasik done in Spokane. The price was an amazingly inexpensive $1,000. That was a figure I could handle, especially since I have $450 in a health benefits spending account I have to use by the year's end or lose. I made an appointment for a consultation for myself and my daughter, who is also as blind as a bat, minus the astigmatism. Last Thursday, we both went for the exam. While I have pretty typical eyes and can have the normal Lasik procedure, she has thin corneas and will have to have either a different kind of Lasik or PRK. She will find out which today. At 1:00 PM today, I will be in the doctor's office preparing for my Lasik surgery. By 4:00 PM today, I should be able to see better than I've seen since I was a little kid. My only concern is how bad my presbyopia will be after surgery. I have the option of having monovision done - they correct your dominant eye for distance and leave your other eye uncorrected so you can read without glasses - but I'm not sure I would like that. You do lose some depth perception and it takes a couple of weeks to a month for your brain to fully adapt. I'll talk to the doctor today. Regardless, I WILL see without glasses after surgery today. I can hardly believe it, and I can hardly wait! My daughter goes in for her surgery on October 7. She, at least, won't need reading glasses for years. I wish I'd been able to have this done years ago so I could have enjoyed years of glasses free vision, but to be able to wake up and see, to see in the middle of the night, to be able to go in the water and not worry about losing a contact lens - I can't even tell you how exciting that is.

So.... tomorrow I will try to post and give you the scoop on what it's like post-Lasik.

The end of days - and post #203

Gosh, this is my 203rd post! I didn't even notice when I hit number 200. Of course, that's a small number of posts compared to some of my more prolific bloggy friends, but considering my workload, well, it's not too bad.

It's painfully apparent that summer is drawing quickly to a close. The weather isn't the giveaway, though. It's the absence of the sun at times when, in the very near past, it has normally hung high in the sky. I really noticed it this morning when The Spouse left for work. Usually, I can see his car just fine as I stand at the kitchen window waving goodbye. This morning, the sun had yet to peek above the horizon. The sky was almost still dark, and he needed his headlights. That was at 6:00 AM.

Wasn't it just last week that the sun was waking me up at 5:00 AM as it blasted through the bedroom window? It seems like it. Even now, at 7:50 AM, the sun is just barely above the tops of the 20 foot tall trees in the neighbor's yard. And it has moved into a more southerly position in the sky, as opposed to the very easterly one it occupies all summer long. And last night after work, as I mowed the lawn, I found myself doing so in growing darkness, barely finishing the front yard before it became too dusky to see where I'd mowed and where I needed to mow. By 7:30 PM it was too dark to continue. Not that it was actually dark, mind you. It was just not bright enough to continue mowing. In another week, it will be too dark by 7:00 PM.

The color of the sun's light has changed too, especially the afternoon light. It has taken on that autumn glow that signals the trees to change color, and evokes an innate sense of urgency and impending change in many of us. It has a more golden color to it, as opposed to the white-hot color of the July sun. The summer sun invites us to languish in it, to soak it in, to relax and take it easy. The autumn sun urges us to hurry, to organize, prepare, complete projects, stock our cupboards. It whispers to us, reminding us that winter is just around the corner; and no amount of tweaking of daylight savings time will stop its arrival. But between summer and winter is autumn, harvest, the season of change. I'm looking forward to the apple harvest festivals this region holds each year, to college football games, to Parents' Weekend at Youngest Son's college, to the end of mowing season, to the gorgeous, crisp sunny days when the sky is as blue as a topaz, and the mountains to the east stand out in relief against it. I will miss summer, but I am ready for fall, and it's getting nearer day by day.

Weight loss update

So, amazingly and surprisingly, I've started losing weight again. What I mean is, despite my best efforts over the past few months, I was fighting a losing battle against my weight. I'd lose three or four pounds, only to gain them back even more quickly. Over the past few weeks, I started trying more diligently to watch my diet. I was rewarded with a loss of a few pounds that stayed off. Then, this past week, I found myself losing about half a pound a day, to my utter astonishment. The net result is that I have lost about 17 pounds over the past 4 or 5 months! I still have 20 to go to get to where I was when Youngest Son went off to college in 2004, the weight at which I'd been "stuck" for a few years, and 35 to get to my ideal weight, a goal I haven't achieved since 1998, but I have a renewed hope that I can actually achieve those goals now. Anyone who has fought their weight understands how good it feels to achieve a goal, even a little, interim one, and how motivating that can be. My boss has lost about 40 pounds in the last couple of months, thanks to a renewed dedication to Weight Watchers. His success is what spurred me to work harder at my own weight loss, coupled with a concern for my health and fitness, which has always been excellent, but which was being negatively impacted by my weight. So.... a little success, with hopefully more to come!

9/11

Every morning, while getting ready for work, The Spouse turns on the news. Today, of course, it's all about September 11. I keep getting all choked up. Regardless of your thoughts about the president, the war in Iraq, or anything else, I suspect we all share similar feelings about that awful day. One thing that makes me sad is remembering how united we all were on that day, and the days following, and contrasting it with the climate in this country today. We weren't Republicans and Democrats, we weren't black, white, asian, or hispanic, we were just Americans who shared a national grief. And most of the world grieved with us. But today there is so much division, so much name-calling, so many doubts, so much second-guessing. And so much of the world looks upon us with disdain. It makes me sad. But then, I've never been one to handle division and conflict very well. I want peace and unity. I'm an idealist, I know.

Last Vacation of the Summer - Take Two

Note: I had a really great, long post written, and blogger ate it. All I could recover is what follows...not even half of my post. I am too aggravated to rewrite it now. In summary, we painted the garage doors too, which was a project in itself, and moved Youngest Son back to school on Labor Day. I did some long overdue transplanting of stuff, of which I took photos and might post about separately when I get over being peeved at blogger. For now, read what blogger didn't eat. Grrrrr!

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My last vacation of the summer is over. I am back at work. Oddly, I missed being at work when I was off. What does that say about me? Maybe it just says a lot about my job.

The week off was a busy one, as I said it would be. We successfully accomplished the power-washing and restaining of our deck (photos to follow), with the assistance of daughter and son-in-law, who came over one afternoon to help us get the project completed in at least half the time it would have taken the two of us alone. We repaid them with a BBQ dinner of tri-tip, roasted peppers and zucchini, green salad with tomatoes fresh from my dad's garden, and Italian bread, with ice cream for dessert. During the meal, Grandson, age 5, was stung by a wasp - the second time in as many days. The yard seemed to be infested with the darned things, and Grandson appears to be a wasp magnet. I have the magic potion, though, that stops the swelling and the pain almost immediately - Adolph's meat tenderizer dissolved in a bit of water, applied with a cotton ball to the sting and held in place for several minutes. Grandson is convinced Grammy is magic. Meanwhile, Poppy and Dad are out spraying wasps with "dead on contact" spray, knocking down wasp nests from hidden places, and stomping them to bits. Turns out there was a huge wasp's nest right next to the swingset on a post used to hold up the tarp covering our boat. Grandson was swinging when the first sting came - on his face next to his mouth. The second sting came while sitting on our wrought iron picnic table eating dinner. The little yellow striped buggers had made nests in each of the four open-ended pipes that made up the legs of the table - right under Grandson's seat. Lucky kid.

Once the staining was finished, it was on to the trim. The deck is 800 square feet of cedar with slate blue fascia and railings that are a combination of slate blue, white vinyl lattice, and white vinyl handrails. All the blue trim had to be painted - carefully so as not to get any paint on the newly stained deck surface. You have no idea how much work that involved. Backbreaking work that could only be done after 2PM when shade hits the deck. Spouse did 95% of it. All I did was get the small art brush and do the places that were too small or precise for his big brush. (subsequent paragraphs gobbled by blogger)

Another vacation

Next week I will be taking my last week of summer vacation (I still have a week in November and one in December coming). I am not going anywhere this time; I'll be working around the old homestead. So, you know what that means. I likely won't be blogging or commenting. I hope you don't miss me too much. :-) I'll be back at it the Tuesday after Labor Day, while the youngest son starts his junior year of college.

Beginning tomorrow, my days will be filled with painting of garage doors and deck trim, staining of said deck, digging out overgrown shubbery and replacing it with wonderful perennial flowers, with a few trips to The Big City thrown in for good measure. I am sure I'll be called in to work at least once, maybe twice, while on vacation. That's just par for the course. Maybe, just maybe, I'll be able to work up a post, but I am not promising anything. Ciao, friends! I'll miss you. Stay out of trouble in my absence (charlie, that means you!) And be nice to Amy.

Blog workshop

Hi everyone...guess where I am? At a library workshop on blogging and the use of blogs in/for libraries. I am one of only two people at this workshop, which about 15 attendees, who has a blog. The instructor is showing everyone how to set up a Blogger blog. Naturally, I am exempt from this part of the workshop. (I think I get an A on this section.) The afternoon session is about RSS. I have tons of RSS feeds (I like to know when you guys post as soon as you do, so I get your blog feeds!) but I don't know how to create a feed on our web site. So, that's what I hope to learn this afternoon. Since he's teaching everyone how to create a blog and post to it, it's okay that I'm blogging right now. In fact, we're supposed to blog right now. Yippee! Paid to blog! :)

Growing pains

My town is changing - quickly, and not necessarily for the better. Obviously, every town changes with time. Businesses come and go, as do people; some move, some die, all change with age, sometimes becoming unrecognizable. New neighborhoods spring up, new businesses sprout from once vacant lots, new roads go in to service all the newness, and the face of the town changes. For the most part, those changes have been gradual in my town. It's a small town, off the beaten path a bit, and short of its breathtaking geographic beauty, lacking most of the qualities that draw throngs of new residents. There are very few well-paying jobs in town. There isn't much in the way of affordable housing available. With the exception of WalMart, Home Depot, and the usual fast food enterprises, we lack major retail outlets. It's more than an hour drive to the nearest mall or movie theater. There is no institute of higher education within a 70 mile radius. But the area is beautiful - breathtakingly so. As a result, the various magazines that rate such things (Sunset, Outdoor Life, and the like), have deemed this town one of the country's most desirable places in which to live, going so far as to call it "the next Aspen". I want to thank those publications so much for those articles.

Not wanting to miss out on the latest, hottest, hippest thing, people are flocking to this area. They are not flocking to live and work here, though. They are coming to develop the area, build homes, drive up housing prices, sell their spec homes, then move on to the next hot market. The people who can afford these new homes are mostly retired, usually don't plan to live here year 'round, and add nothing to the economy in the way of jobs created. Sometimes they are people who need a tax write-off in the form of a second home, or maybe they want to escape city life for a week or two a year, so they build a home here to meet that need. Unfortunately, they usually bring their big-city attitudes with them when they are in town, driving aggressively, behaving rudely in our local business establishments, treating the employees at said establishments as servants, barely worthy of acknowledgement. Yes, my town is changing.

Houses are going up faster than I can keep track of them. Neighborhoods of dozens of ostentiously enormous homes, paved with wide, interstate-like roads, are being cut into the previously roadless, pristine forests, miles from downtown, changing the very nature of the area. If I take a different route to work, I am apt to be assaulted by the shock of seeing new "premier, upscale townhomes" being built where a block of quaint little homes once stood, as was the case this morning. Laughably, these premier townhomes back up to shoddy little houses (picture chicken coops in the yard, laundry hanging on the line) and front one of the few busy streets in town. Not exactly my idea of a "premier, upscale" location, yet they're asking more for them than the value at which my house, on half an acre, with lake access, was appraised. We are in the midst of a sort of tax revolution as a result of the meteoric rise in property values. My property taxes are set to increase by more than 50% this next year. Thank you, all you "hipsters" who are changing my town.

When I first moved here, if I called my friends at home, and they were not there, I could almost always find them by just driving around the few streets that comprise "downtown", locating their vehicle, and going into the store on that street. They were almost certainly inside, or walking down the street, easily spotted. Going to the grocery store took forever because I invariably knew 75% of the people in the store, and of course, had to stop to chat for a few minutes. Everyone smiled at everyone else. People said "hi" even if they didn't know you. They probably know your folks, kids, siblings, or neighbors. It was a nice feeling. If my kids were at the City Beach, and I had to leave for some reason, there was always a contingent of friends around me who would look after them for me. Now, I barely recognize a tenth of the people I see on the streets, or in the shops. Now that we've become "hip", the folks walking our streets and perusing our shops are usually tourists, or seasonal residents. Most locals don't even go downtown any more. The parking is a nightmare, the shops are tourist oriented, and unless you work downtown, you seldom have a reason to do so. Yep, my town is changing.

I used to joke that we didn't have rush hour here, we have "rush minute". No more. Traffic in town is choked from a two lane road into a one lane road on both ends of town, as it comes into town and as it leaves town. The volume of traffic has increased 5-fold, yet we have roads that haven't had their capacity expanded in over 20 years. We now have rush half-hour. I avoid it by leaving for the gym at 6:30 AM and not leaving work until 6:30 PM. My town is changing, and I am not thrilled with most of them. But I still love my town. I hope we find a way to deal with all the changes without losing our character, our heart, our core.

New blog additions

I have added a couple of widgets to my blog. They are wordy widgets. Considering the fact that I am often accused of being a bit wordy myself, they seemed apropos additions to my word-encrusted blog. I love words. I enjoy using them when I write, when I speak, and even when I think. Words intrigue me. Especially their origins. I should have been an etymologist, or a linguist because I like words of all kinds - English and non-English alike. I am a non-discriminatory word lover. In that vein, I have added a "word of the day" widget and a synonym matching widget to my blog. Go ahead, test your mettle. I know I'll be doing it often.

Tomorrow, tomorrow, I love ya tomorrow...

Last week was a tumultuous week, both personally and professionally. There was major drama at home - none of it good. Fortunately, it's on the road to resolution. Work was fraught with problems that have yet to be resolved, both at my "day job" and at my consulting job. It seems to be the way it goes with computer gigs.... everything goes really well for a period, every problem is easily solved, then nothing works, solutions escape me, problems cascade like a waterfall crashing over me, until I feel as though I'm drowning in them, rescue nowhere in sight. The fun part of my job, the part I slip off to do when I can't think another second about how to solve the technical problems, is being farmed out. I wanted to cry when I was told this would happen, but I had to admit I don't have the "mad skilz" necessary to do what the boss wants done, and I don't have the time to acquire them in time to do what he wants done. It's been a crushing week, but tomorrow a new one starts. It has to be better, right?

Sunshine, lollipops, and rainbows

Everything that's wonderful is what I feel when we're together,
Brighter than a lucky penny,
When you're near the rain cloud
disappears, dear,
And I feel so fine
just to know that you are mine.

I don't know why that song popped into my head, but it seems apropos. So, I've added a few blogs to my blog list. I've been lax in doing that, considering how often I read said blogs. So, Lorraine and Nicole in France are now included. I know there are others I should add, but I can't think of them just now. I suppose I should organize the list alphabetically or something, but that just seems so structured, something I do try to escape as often as possible.

I'm working on a new look for the web site at work. It's driving me crazy. I have this vision in my head....but I just can't get it out of my mind and onto my computer screen. I know what I want, but I don't have all the skills necessary for creating it. It's very frustrating. I keep coming up with "interim" designs, intending to get the "real thing" completed soon....but it is taking an awfully long time to get to "soon".

Another project on which I've been working for months and months is still causing me fits. It's the implementation of our internet access management software, and it's still not going well. Something is wrong, and no one can figure out what it is - not me, not the developers, not the tech people. It just is not working and we're all about to lose our minds. That is what I'm working on this week, with a few hours of web redesign thrown in when I can't take the frustration any longer. And so, I spend my days in a constant state of frustration and aggravation, with the only real respite coming in the form of reading the posts of my fellow bloggers. Thanks guys. You have no idea just how much I enjoy reading your blogs, and how doing so helps keep me sane. Keep it up!

It ain't over 'til the fat lady sings

I thought I'd be back blogging regularly by now. I guess I need to have another think. I'm still so darned busy, and I don't see any signs of it letting up any time soon, sadly. If it's not work, it's home projects, if it's not that, it's college financial aid stuff. It's just BUSY all the time now. I do have time to read posts on other blogs, for the most part, just not much time to write posts for mine. Since nothing is worse than a blog that is never updated, I am committed to writing at least something every few days, just to keep my few readers interested.

A former coworker, fellow Italian, and all around great lady just started a blog. It's called Rosemary's Attic. I put a link to it on my blog link list. Check it out. She's just getting started, but I can tell already it's going to be a good one. Charlie will like this - her last two posts are about her dogs. They will make you cry. Charlie, her dog's name is Charlie. She is an animal lover extraordinaire. Visit her blog, leave her a comment. Welcome her to Blogland. Now...back to work.

100 degrees? No problem!

This past weekend was a hot one, not only here in North Idaho, but all across the country it seems.  We spent it the way anyone with any sense would spend a weekend with temperatures hovering around the hundred degree mark – in the water.  Our kids and their families set out Friday morning for a campground on the lake just a few miles from our house.  The campsite is most easily accessed via boat, though there is a dirt road to the campground.  Via road you have to park in a parking lot and lug your stuff about 500 yards to the campsite, while via boat, you simply pull up onto the beach, and walk about 50 feet to the campsite.  

About noon Saturday, we drove to the marina from which they launched their boat and jet skis, parked our car, and waited for them to pick us up in the boat and take us to the campsite, about a 10 minute boat ride away.  We were told all we needed to bring was the meat we wanted to cook for dinner, something to drink, and ourselves.  We considered staying the night, but decided we’d rather sleep in our bed in an air-conditioned bedroom than on some rocky ground somewhere.  

We had been to this campground once before several years ago, but I had forgotten that.  I really had no idea what it was like.  It turned out to be much nicer than I had imagined it would be.  The tents were set up in amongst the trees overlooking the beach below.  There was a picnic table and a fire ring with a grate, and the kids had a really nice setup with coolers, camp stoves, hibachis, storage totes, and camp chairs.  The beach is made up of smooth, flat stones (not sand) upon which they had sheets and towels laid out next to beach chairs and umbrellas, positioned to provide shade.  The jet skis and boat were beached and available to play on, as were a wide variety of beach toys like air mattresses for floating on the water, snorkeling gear, and sundry children’s toys.  It was a very nice setup and we found ourselves wishing we’d brought camping gear.  

We spent the day riding the jet skis, pulling the grandkids on the tube behind the boat, swimming, sunbathing, and napping.  It was a perfect way to spend a Saturday.  When it was time for dinner, we grilled our tri-tip and t-bones, baked some potatoes in the fire, cooked corn-on-the-cob and steamed broccoli on the camp stove, and all enjoyed an outstanding meal together.  At about 8 p.m., the kids took us back to our car, we drove home, and fell into bed, exhausted.  We were to meet them at the dock at 9 a.m. Sunday so we could enjoy a breakfast of sausages, pancakes, strawberries, and whipped cream with them.

The next morning, while we ate breakfast together, they related the events of the previous night.  Turns out, it was a good thing we didn’t spend the night.  Apparently, at about 9 p.m., a large group of twenty-something “granola people” invaded the campground, coming in on sailboats, motor boats, and a catamaran.  They proceeded to party very loudly, screaming, laughing, banging drums, and performing some sort of apparent spiritual dance until the wee hours of the morning.  No one got any sleep.  The kids decided the best way to retaliate was to jump on the jet skis and roar around making as much noise as they could at about 7 a.m.  Before doing so, they went down the beach to let the folks in the next camp in on the plan – a plan they enthusiastically endorsed.  The day before, as I was floating around the lake, a guy on a jet ski rode up and asked me to save the beach and campsite for him, explaining they’d been looking all day for a spot to camp and finding everything full.  As I talked with him, my daughter-in-law recognized him.  Turned out, he and his wife work for the same company in Spokane as she and our son do.  Small world.  They too were camping with their folks and siblings.  They too were upset by the “invaders” who had kept them awake all night, and agreed it was only fair that they fight fire with fire.  So, the kids zipped around just a few hundred feet from the beach on the jet skis and watched as heads popped up, like prairie dogs on the lookout, from amongst the group sleeping on the beach.  By the time we arrived, the twenty-something “hippies” were up, including one girl who decided to strip naked, apply sunscreen, and then sunbathe nude for the next few hours.  Considering we had small children in tow, it was a good thing they were about 100 yards up the beach from us, though the men in our party were looking for excuses to wander down the beach in that direction.  

I spent pretty much the rest of the day floating on the lake, getting a nice sunburn on my back and legs, although not a bad one.  I did put on sunscreen.  We were going to go via boat to the next bay over at about noon, where the library was having a staff picnic, but the boat started having problems.  It wouldn’t idle, it was becoming difficult to start, and it kept dying once you did get it started.  Everyone was worried that we’d be stuck there if we didn’t just get going back to the marina.  So, we helped the kids pack up, hopped in the boat, and headed back to the cars – and I missed the staff picnic.  But we had a very relaxing weekend.  Weather permitting, we’re going to go camping in two weeks in one of the coves about 1000 yards from the campsite – a cove you can only access by boat, and that has room for just one camping party, so you can’t be invaded by noise-making partiers in the middle of the night.  It will be a lot of fun, provided the weather holds.  Right now, I’m kind of a big fan of global warming.

I'll be back soon....really

I am just way too busy at work to blog right now. Work is taking all my time - 12 hours a day or more. So, bear with me a little longer and I promise I'll come back with a vengeance. I had a blast with my brother and his family. I still have tons to tell you all about the UK. I am just falling so far behind.... I'm in the middle of all the filing of forms for financial aid for Jonathan for the coming year, planning my budget for my department here at work (which is always an arduous task), and implementing a bunch of new technologies, so I'm a bit overwhelmed. Oh, my dad is doing well. He is recovering, albeit slowly. Summer is flying by, and it's been a HOT one. Life is good....busy, but good.

Sun and Sand and Fun....

I have a major sunburn.  I spent way too much time in the sun without enough SPF in my sunscreen.  It’s been hot – mid-90’s – and sunny.  The days have been filled with family, sun, sand, boats, jet skis, food, and fun.  My brother is en route.  He will arrive tomorrow early AM.  I am having a great time.  We all are.  Miss you all….

Blog respite

In the tradition of Charlie, I will be taking a blogging break. Not because I have other more pressing things to do, but because I will be on vacation next week. My brother is coming to visit and we're going to camp with him and his family, go out on our boat, and just have a great time enjoying the summer in Sandpoint. So... I will be back, and will post more about our UK Trip, and maybe even some photos from next week's vacation too. Happy 4th to you all. See you soon. I'll miss you all.

UK Trip - Day Two (continued)

Pitlochry is a great little town. It’s quite picturesque and was one of our favorite little towns in all of Scotland. We spent quite a bit of time in the visitor center there, partly looking for souvenirs, partly gathering information about the area. The woman who helped us was really wonderful. Her accent was great too! After buying some t-shirts for friends of ours that said “I have friends in Scotland”, a refrigerator magnet, and a great map of Scotland, loading up with every brochure imaginable about Scotland’s various regions, we trekked on down the main street of Pitlochry. There were dozens of great little shops, and I think we went into every one of them. We didn’t buy anything, just did a lot of looking. Around lunch time we noticed several people eating fish and chips from Styrofoam containers. It looked really good, so we asked one couple where they got it. There was a place on one of the side streets called “The Plaice to Be” (spelled just that way). We headed straight for it since we were starving. There was a line of about 10 people that wound out the door and in front of the take out place. Obviously, this WAS the “plaice” to be. We looked at the menu and decided to just go for the fish and chips, though there was pretty much anything you could want on the menu. They had steak pie, haggis, sausages, and some things I had no clue what they were. We saw the steak pies and they looked pretty tasty, but we were ready for some fish and chips – our first since our arrival in the UK. We were not disappointed. The piece of fish was huge! In the US, you usually get two or three small pieces of fish and a pile of chips (fries), so we were awed by the giant piece of haddock that we were given and the enormous of steak fries it was served with. Jonathan and I opted for the vinegar, of course, but Tom hates it, so he just had salt. This was strictly a take away place with no seating, so we walked down the street a bit and found a stone wall upon which we could place our take out boxes while we ate. We joined the others who were eating their fish and chips while standing on the sidewalk. One bite and we were hooked. The fish was hot, moist, and delicious! My only complaint was that, by the time we got to the fries, they were kind of soaked with grease from the fish, and I really couldn’t eat much more. Tom wanted to eat every dinner there for the rest of the stay. He really, really loved it. It was good, but I’d take it somewhere I could sit down to eat it, and separate it from the fries so they didn’t soak up all the grease. If you go to Pitlochry, give “The Plaice to Be” a try. It’s just east of the main street on the north end of town. Excellent food!

After we ate, we explored the town a bit more, taking in the scenery, the quaint stone houses, the beautiful gardens, the old churches. It was a really great day and we would love to go back and try out some of the pubs we passed. I highly recommend a visit to Pitlochry. I know we didn’t see half of what we could have had we spent more time there. Interestingly, I found out from my sister that she stayed at a B & B there when she visited about 8 years ago. I had no idea.

There are some great sights in Pitlochry, like the River Tummel, Loch Faskally, and the Edradour Distillery. I believe the Queen's View at Loch Tummel is close by as well. We didn't get to take in any of those sights - this time. We will next time. We did stop by Blair Atholl and Blair Castle, though after hours, so all we could see was the outside of the castle, the grounds, and the Hercules garden. I will post photos of it in the next few days. I have posted about 15 new photos from our trip to Stirling, which comes on Day Three, so checkout my photobucket.

The reason I am not a worldly success

I was reading an article in today’s paper about a man who was struck and killed while riding his bicycle with a fellow bicyclist along a straight section of the road. It was a really tragic accident. The man had apparently logged over 10,000 miles on his bicycle. What struck me was the way he was described by his brother. He could have been describing me. …well, except for the enormous number of friends who loved him to pieces.

“Smith had a master’s degree in energy planning and was interested in sailing, cooking, and desktop publishing. He memorized dozens of sea dirges and recited Lewis Carroll at gatherings of The Well. ’I think he had far too many interests to be a worldly success in the late 20th century, but he had an enormous number of friends who loved him to pieces,’ Creighton Smith said.”

It doesn’t say Smith was interested in photography or writing, but I’ll bet he was. Probably liked gardening too. At last, I understand why I’ll never be the next (name your favorite prominent successful, brilliant female). Too many interests. I think they call that ADD.

Father’s Day Excitement

Wow, it’s been 11 days since I last posted. Right in the middle the tales of my UK Trip, I stop and leave everyone hanging…well, all five of you who read this blog. My apologies. Stuff happened. You see, on Father’s Day, June 18, I called my dad to wish him a happy Father’s Day. No answer. So, I left a cheery message wishing him a Happy Father’s Day and hoping he was out having fun. I learned later that each of my siblings did likewise. We were to meet my son-in-law, daughter, and their kids for breakfast at 9:30. We arrived a bit early, took our seats, and awaited their arrival. A few minutes later, our daughter and grandkids arrived sans our son-in-law. Daughter was visibly upset. When asked where SIL was, she looked at me and said “he drove your dad to the hospital in Coeur d’Alene”. Naturally, a million questions went through my mind. The obvious one finally popped out “what’s wrong?” She explained that my dad had called very early that morning and said simply “I’m in the ER and I need a ride to the hospital in Coeur d’Alene”, to which SIL responded “I’ll be right there”. He promised Daughter he’d call before he left town to tell her what was going on. An hour passed and he had still not called, so she called him. He was already in Coeur d’Alene. The fact that he’d not called first didn’t sit too well with Daughter. He explained that my dad had asked him not to say anything to anyone until they knew what was wrong for sure. Turns out, he had been having chest pains for a few days, but he thought they were gas pains. They got really bad Saturday night, but he refused to go to the ER. Early Sunday AM (they got to the ER at 5:30 so it must have been 3:30 a.m. or so) he finally relented and drove himself and my stepmom to the ER. Apparently, after an EKG and some other tests, the ER doc wasn’t sure what was wrong. He called the cardiologist in Coeur d’Alene and discussed the case with him. That doctor told him to send my dad down to Kootenai Medical Center (KMC) so he could check him out. They wanted to put him in an ambulance, but for some reason still unknown to me, he refused. It was at that point he called SIL.

Why not call me, you might ask? I wondered the same thing. I alternated between furious and worried. Needless to say, my appetite was ruined and the $15 buffet breakfast went to waste. SIL called Daughter a little later saying they still didn’t know what was wrong for sure. Daughter and SIL had a heated discussion about keeping secrets and not letting family members in on what was happening. SIL was caught in the middle, really. Finally, mid-afternoon, SIL called Daughter to tell her my dad needed bypass surgery. He had six blocked arteries. I immediately called SIL’s cell phone and got voice mail. I basically said “this is not cataract surgery, this is “you could die” surgery”. I want to know what’s going on so someone needs to call me as soon as possible.” Moments later, I got a call from my stepmother. She told me what I already knew – my dad had six blocked arteries. It was a miracle he hadn’t had a heart attack, wasn’t dead, and had no heart damage. The surgery was scheduled for Monday at 10 a.m. I asked why SIL was called instead of me and was told it’s because I’m too excitable. What that means is, I would probably cry when told my dad needed to go to ER, and I would probably be worried and/or scared, but I would have been completely capable of driving him to the hospital without freaking out. I do maintain my composure quite well in emergencies. I can’t help the tears. They just come. My real frustration was that my dad hadn’t taken an ambulance to KMC. What if he’d had a heart attack en route? I was left to fume while my stepmother went on to make other calls. I needed to call my siblings. Fortunately, the doctors said they expected an excellent result.

At 9:40 p.m. I got a call from my stepmother. Dad was going into surgery right away. He’d gotten worse as the day had progressed. Now I was scared. And I hadn’t been able to talk to my dad at all since all this had started – another reason I was upset at not being called first thing. What if…. I called my brother and sister on the west coast, but not my sister in the Midwest. It was too late. Besides, the surgery was supposed to last 4 or 5 hours and was pretty routine. I tried to sleep. It didn’t go too well. At 6:30 a.m. my stepmother called. Dad was out of surgery. It had lasted 8 hours. They had had a very difficult time finding enough veins in his legs to use for the bypass. I found out later he had 18 incisions where they’d tried to get veins. His veins are crap – small, not very elastic. Aside from that, it had gone well. He would be unconscious for most of the day. I had to go to Spokane that afternoon anyway, so I told her I’d stop by briefly en route to see him, conscious or not.

I had many conversations with siblings over the course of the next few days. High cholesterol runs in our family. My paternal grandfather died of a heart attack in 1973 at age 75. My dad’s sister also died of a heart attack several years ago. I think she was in her 70’s. My dad’s remaining brother and sister are fine, and both are quickly approaching 80. I just found out that my uncle takes cholesterol lowering medication. My dad does not, though his cholesterol is 325. I suspect that will change. My brother informed me that his cholesterol is 320. He is not on medication either. I will work on that when he visits me next week.

I saw my dad that Monday. His eyes were open, he was nodding to me, and he squeezed my hand, but I doubt he really knew it was me. He was on a ventilator so he couldn’t speak. They were in the process of weaning him off of it and it was going slowly. As it turned out, it took several days to get him off of it. In fact, his entire recovery is taking a bit longer than they had thought it would take, but he is doing well. He has had atrial fibrillations, where your upper chamber of your heart beats faster than the lower chamber. They are not uncommon after heart surgery, usually brought on by the irritation of the surgery. They make him dizzy, nauseated and sweaty. He’s had a tough time getting enough rest because of it. He has been up and walking on his own a few times, and the doctors say he may go home in the next couple of days. That is great news, but a bit worrisome because he lives in a very remote setting, 9 miles from the nearest town, and 45 miles from the nearest hospital, on a private dirt road. My stepmom doesn’t really drive anymore, and she’s a tiny thing, so I don’t know how she will help my dad get around. I don’t know what their plans are. I did visit Dad the day they moved him from ICU to CCU. He was awake, though drifting in and out of sleep, and could speak a few words. His throat hurt from the ventilator and he couldn’t catch enough breath to talk for very long. I told him I loved him and I was praying for a speedy recovery. I know he’s disappointed in himself. He looks at this surgery as some sort of sign of weakness I think. He has always prided himself in being such a tough guy. Sometimes God has a way of showing us just how human we really are.

So, between dad’s surgery and the insane workload at work lately, I’ve had to leave you hanging in regard to the UK trip narrative. I’m sorry. I’ll get back to it as soon as I can. There is so much more to tell.

UK Trip - Day Two, Part 1

The second day dawned wet and grey.  The plan was to go into Kenmore, the little town just half a mile from the resort, and just walk around a bit.  I made a hearty breakfast of eggs, toast, bacon, and orange juice.  Jonathan downed one of the mini boxes of cereal as well (growing kid and all).  We gathered up cameras and maps and headed off for our first day in Perthshire, Scotland.  I have to say this – Perthshire is perfectly situated for getting about in Scotland, especially where we were.  We were smack dab in the middle of the country, making everything around us pretty accessible within a couple hours drive.  I highly recommend to visitors to the country to find somewhere around Pitlochry to stay.  Now, on to our day.

Kenmore is a very small town.  It sports a hotel with a restaurant, a church, an antique shop, a few houses, a school, and that’s about it.  We walked down the path that led from the old Taymouth Castle gate toward the castle.  It started sprinkling lightly, but not enough to make us bring out the umbrellas.  The walk was beautiful and peaceful.  The path was lined will all sorts of trees we’d never seen before.  We’re from a land of lodgepole and Ponderosa pines, grand fir and cedars, aspens and birch, larch, maples, and cottonwoods.  I’d never seen a beech before.  I have no idea what some of the trees were.  All I know is, they were beautiful.  The yews really caught our attention.  We have small yew shrubs around that people plant in their yards, but I’ve never seen wild ones, and never any as large as the ones we saw.  I found myself marveling at the different flora as we walked along the path.  We finally realized the castle was a lot farther along than we’d thought, so we decided to turn back and drive to the other entrance so we could see the castle – our first.  The narrow roads were still a challenge, this being only our second time on them, but we drove slowly and had no mishaps.  When we finally arrived at the castle, we were disappointed to find it surrounded by a chain link fence and covered in large green tarps.  Apparently, it was closed while it was being remodeled into a 6 star hotel.  Previous visitors had commented on how beautiful it was inside, so it was disappointing to not be able to see it.  We decided to drive the few miles into Aberfeldy and explore there.  

Aberfeldy is a really cute little town.  Oh, a warning to Americans.  We tend to call everything a town.  We’ll say things like “hey, I’m going into town tonight.  Do you want to come along?”  We might use that phrase whether we’re going into Portland from one of the suburbs, or whether we’re driving 45 miles from our cabin in the woods into the population 350 town closest to us, or just going from our subdivision into the part of town where the movie theaters are.  Well, in the UK, they make a distinction between a town, a village, and a city.  Once we said something like “how large a town is Birmingham?” and the person to whom we were speaking quickly said “it’s a city”.  Ah-ha… so…how big is a city versus a town?  I suspect Aberfeldy might actually just be a village, not quite meeting the qualifications for townhood.  Nevertheless, it is a great little village.  The first thing we noticed as we entered Aberfeldy was a road sign, their version of a caution sign, that read “Elderly People” with an icon of two people, slightly bent, with canes.  Okay….so we were to be on the lookout for random old folks crossing the streets?  Jonathan, naturally, insisted Tom and I stand under this sign as he took our picture.  You’ll see it on the photobucket site.  We saw several of these signs sprinkled throughout Scotland.  We realized they were positioned wherever there was a nursing home.  Interesting.  We saw other interesting signs.  One was a pretty typical pedestrian crossing sign – an adult and child and a crosswalk – but the school signs were interesting.  They showed kids running.  Oh, and emergency exit signs in restaurants and stores made me laugh.  You know how you’re always told never to run in an emergency, right?  Well their signs show a person fleeing and the word exit.  I guess in the UK you’re supposed to run as fast  as you can to get the hell out in case of emergency.

Aberfeldy has a cute little town center with a little roundabout in the middle of it.  There is a co-op grocery store there, some cute little shops, and a Bank of Scotland.  We went into the grocery store and bought some necessities – Coke, cookies (biscuits), potato chips (crisps), sausages for breakfast, and a few other things.  I honestly believe Coke has a monopoly in the UK.  You could find Pepsi, but it was really hard to find Diet Pepsi, and I never could find it cold.  But any flavor of Coke you wanted – lime, cherry, vanilla, you name it, it was there and cold.  Weird.  

Down the street, we found the most delightful bakery.  You have to visit a bakery daily in Scotland.  They have the BEST stuff!  We went in just as it started raining a little, ready for something hot to drink and sweet to eat.  An older Scot gentleman and his buddy were ordering something he called “double D’s” “for the way they look” he told us.  Basically, they’re meringues and whipped cream, and yes, they do look like “double d’s”.  Jonathan ordered banoffee pie, I ordered scones and clotted cream.  Tom just had a latte.  We chatted a bit with the teenage girls working the counter, mostly so we could listen to them talk and find out a bit about life in Aberfeldy.  Our first Scottish meal out among the natives, so to speak, and it was delightful.  The older man and his buddy were really delightful, very friendly, and great to listen to.  We were loving it!

After our snack was consumed, we continued our walk along the main street of Aberfeldy, meandering into shops, buying some coffee since all we had at the room was instant, and marveling at some of the unique sculptures we found in one of the little gift shops.  But Aberfeldy is a village, and it didn’t take long to exhaust our shopping options.  On to Pitlochry…..

UK Trip - Arrival at the Resort

We finally arrived at our abode in Scotland, The Kenmore Club, in Kenmore, Perthshire, at about 4:00 pm. The trip from Edinburgh took just about 90 minutes. While Tom had become somewhat comfortable driving on the carriageway, the Scottish version of a highway, the road we had to turn onto from it, which would take us to our resort, was a different story. If we thought the lanes on the A9 were narrow – and they were, although there were often two lanes traveling in each direction and not just one – they were nothing compared to the A827. The A827 is a two lane road with no shoulder at all. In fact, not only is there no shoulder, where the shoulder should be, right along the fog line, there was usually a stone wall. We had the distinct impression that, in order to avoid having the side view mirror on the driver’s side ripped off by oncoming cars, we would have to drive so close to these fences that we’d surely scrape all the paint off the passenger side. The car seemed much too wide to traverse this road without some sort of collision with oncoming traffic, especially when the oncoming traffic was a truck (lorrie) or bus. And of course, the road was a winding, twisting road with sharp turns at very frequent intervals. Now and then we’d run into a sign that said “oncoming traffic in the middle of the road”. Uh, okay…and what were we supposed to do with that information? I pretty much sat in the passenger seat and used body English to keep the left side of the car from making contact with the stone walls, closing my eyes when oncoming traffic approached so I wouldn’t have to actually see us scrape the side view mirror off. I just waited for the sound of crunching metal and shattering plastic. Amazingly, it never came. With a sigh of relief, we arrived at the resort and I went to check in.

The staff was very friendly. They quickly gave us our key and parking pass and directed us to our cottage. The resort is made up of a group of white cottages with black wood trim, all arranged in a square around a beautifully landscaped courtyard. Each cottage is comprised of two units. Some units are two-bedroom, some are three-bedroom. We had a two-bedroom unit. The cottages are surrounded by a high stone wall, once part of the original castle’s wall. Two ancient stone gates guard the entrances. Each cottage is two stories with bedrooms and bathrooms on the main floor and the living room, dining room, kitchen and another bathroom on the second floor. As we entered our unit for the first time, we were very pleasantly surprised at how spacious and modern it was. From the outside, it looks to be quite old, but inside it is pretty new. Each bedroom had its own bathroom. The master bedroom had a large bathroom with a tub/shower combination. The other bedroom had a smaller bathroom with a stall shower. Upstairs was another full bathroom with a tub/shower combination as well. The kitchen was spacious and well-stocked with dishes, silverware, utensils, and pots and pans, as well as the “food packs” I had arranged to have delivered. These consisted of a loaf of bread, half a dozen eggs, a variety pack of cold cereals, orange juice, butter, milk, tea, orange marmalade, bottled water, and instant coffee. I had ordered two food packs, so we had plenty of food for breakfast for the week. We would have to remedy the coffee situation as soon as possible, though, and add some bacon or sausage to the list for a hearty breakfast. But first, we needed to sleep. We unpacked our toiletries, had some eggs and toast, then went to sleep. It started raining as we fell asleep.

Below is the view from our balcony at the Kenmore Club in Scotland. The water in the distance is Loch Tay. The old stone gate between the cottages is one of the original gates to the Taymouth Castle, upon whose grounds this resort is built. Behind us is Ben Lawers, one of the tallest mountains in Scotland. This was taken on a really beautiful, rare, sunny morning at about 6:00 a.m. I'll post a larger version of this photo, as well as some more photos of the resort, on my photobucket site: http://s45.photobucket.com/albums/f58/ginaemory/Scotland%202006/

Microsoft Office 2007 Beta

I just installed the Office 2007 beta and all I can say is “wow!” The interface for the familiar apps – Word, Excel, Publisher, and even Outlook, is completely new. I’m still getting used to the “toolbars”, such as they are. They are completely different and very functional, once you become accustomed to them. Outlook has one feature I really like. You can flag an email for follow up, and instead of the silly blue, red, orange, etc. flags, you select today, tomorrow, this week, next week, and the item is then put into a to do list that shows up on the right side of your screen. That is cool.

One feature of Word 2007 is the option to blog the post. So… this is my first attempt at blogging a post from this beta. That’s the sole reason for this post, so please bear with me.

Edit: a glitch in the publishing feature has been uncovered. I tried to publish this post, and it would not let me, saying I was either not connected to the internet, Blogger was unavailable, or my password was incorrect, all of which were false. I tried "publish as draft" and lo and behold, it worked. So, a kink Microsoft needs to work out, hence the reason for betas. Aside from that, this could prove to be a nice feature since I do my best typing in Word, what with auto-correction of typos and whatnot (gotta love those whatnots).

Things to know when visiting Scotland

Everyone in Scotland owns a dog, and they walk them all the time, no matter the weather.

They don't have restrooms in the UK. They have toilets. It felt odd asking where the toilet was (a bit impolite), but I'm not sure they'd have understood had I asked for the restroom.

Do not confuse the "To Let" signs with the "Toilet" signs. Your bladder may never forgive you, although your brain wants to fill in the missing "i" more often than not.

"Give way" signs = our "Stop" signs, not our "Yield" signs.

They have speed cameras. Radar checks your speed, and if you are speeding, the camera takes a photo of your license plate. I suspect you get a ticket in the mail a few days later.

The whole of London, and I suspect most of England, is under CCTV surveillance 24/7. The ACLU would have a field day with that here.

Scottish food has gotten a bad rap. We found the food to be excellent, as were the ales and wine.

Visit a bakery every day. They are full of wonderful things!

On a dual carriageway or motorway, the right lane is the fast lane.

Cookies are called biscuits, so don't go asking for biscuits and gravy or they'll think you're daft. They have cookies called "digestives". I have yet to understand why they're called that (Charlie?). They're like a shortbread cookie with or without chocolate coating. I liked them. No one else did. They were great with tea.

Potato chips are called crisps and come in all sorts of flavors like lamb and mint, steak and onions, prawn cocktail, and salt and vinegar. It's hard to find plain old potato chips. We never could find chips in a large bag like we have here. They were always sold in large bags of small bags, usually with a variety of flavors in one bag. I really liked the prawn cocktail and steak and onion flavors.

The checkers in the grocery stores are seated, not standing like they are here. I told them our checkers would be jealous.

The Bank of Scotland does not charge a fee for using the ATM to get cash with your debit card. At another one I used (can't recall which one) I was charged $10 to withdraw 50 pounds. I didn't find that out until I got home and looked at my bank account. :(

"To go" is called "take away".

UK Trip - Day One (cont)

Upon arrival at the airport in Edinburgh, we made our way to the Hertz counter. I was waiting in line, furiously digging through my file folder with all our trip info, trying to locate my Hertz reservation. The gentleman at the counter saw me pawing through my papers and motioned me up to the counter. He had a wonderful Scots accent, much like Sean Connery. He said he saw a look of panic begin to cross my face and figured he'd help erase it. All I needed was my last name and he'd get our reservation. Sure enough, in a jiffy, he had my reservation on the screen in front of him. Since I had no intention whatsoever of driving in the UK, I motioned Tom to the counter. He presented his driver's license and credit card, signed the documents, and we were handed the car keys. The man behind the counter was SO nice! He was just a foreshadow of the kind of people we would meet in the UK, especially in Scotland. He took the time to get me a map of Edinburgh and Scotland and to give us instructions for getting out of the airport and en route to Kenmore. He honestly couldn't have been nicer. Next to me at the counter was a couple who were not so nice. They apparently wanted some specific SUV (WHY????) and were upset when the only option was a Volvo XC. Gee, rough life. They were not very nice to the guy helping them, but he remained professional, polite, and helpful. Fortunately, the people didn't sound or appear to be Americans.

After we got the keys, we decided to get a latte and catch our breath before embarking upon what was sure to be an adventure in driving. As we sat drinking our lattes, two gentlemen, one with a Scots accent and one with a "down under" accent, sat near us. We ended up talking to them for a bit. They were in Scotland en route back home to New Zealand after being in Germany on business. The one guy was from Scotland but now lived in Kiwi-land. The other was a German who had lived a long time in New Zealand. They were very reassuring about how easily we would get to our destination, how easy the roundabouts were to navigate, and how easily Tom would adapt to driving on the right side of the car on the left side of the road. They did chuckle when we bid them adieu saying they would be watching from the plane for the car stuck in the roundabout. Funny.

We took the shuttle to where the car was parked, located it, checked it out, and started off. We had a Ford Mondeo Estate Wagon - basically a Ford Escort wagon. It was a very nice car! Tom practiced driving on the left a bit in the parking lot, then ventured out onto the open road. We made it through our first roundabout at the airport with no problem. We followed the directions with which we had been provided, which were to take us to the Forth Bridge, then on to Kenmore. Somewhere along the way we went east when we should have gone west, or something like that. We ended up in downtown Edinburgh. Some soccer game must have just gotten over, and the folks in Edinburgh were very happy. The streets were teeming with fans laughing, yelling, carrying flags in maroon and white, honking horns, celebrating their victory. And here are three crazy Americans, driving on the left side of the road on the right side of the car in the midst of all this madness and traffic. Welcome to Scotland! We drove all over the place with no idea where we were or where we were going, and Tom was getting really stressed. We finally asked a car in the next lane how to get to where we needed to go (the A9 north). He gave us directions, which we were able to follow, and we backtracked along the route we'd traveled into Edinburgh, finally seeing the signs for the Forth Bridge, and making our way to the A9 toward Perth. Phew! We had survived! Somewhere along the way, we came upon a toll booth. Thankfully, one of my coworkers had given me a little coin purse with some British coins before we'd left and we had enough to pay the toll or we might still be on that bridge. The Forth Bridge, and it's companion railroad bridge, are beautiful. Too bad I couldn't get a decent picture of either of them. The Forth Bridge reminds me a bit of the Golden Gate Bridge, only not red. It's pretty huge. The scenery around it is breathtaking. I wish we'd had more time to really take it in and take photos. But we were tired and wanted to get to our resort.

The "carriageways" in Scotland - in England too - are really nice. They are very well-marked and have lots of pull-outs, which they call "laybys", in case you need to stop for some reason. But they don't have much of a shoulder most of the time, so for Americans, this is a bit harrowing. The lanes seem impossibly narrow, and they drive really, really fast! We felt like we were holding up traffic whenever we were on a single carriageway, though we seemed to be going way too fast. When the road would change to a dual carriageway, we could take a breath and try to take in the exquisite scenery around us. It was all so new, so different, so beautiful, and so green! Little stone farmhouses dotted the lush hillsides while sheep grazed on the green grass that was cut into squares by ancient stone fences. There was nothing like this in the US. We definitely weren't in Kansas anymore!

First set of Scotland photos

Some lovely homes in Pitlochry. They had beautiful gardens.






The main street in Pitlochry. As you can see, it was a bit damp out.




We just liked this view from above the town with the beautiful green hillsides and the interetsting rooftops.





This is the golf course in Kenmore on the grounds of Taymouth Castle upon which the resort we stayed at was situated. We took a little walk along here first thing upon arriving.





This is a monument in Pitlochry to those who died in WWI.





Again back at Taymouth Castle grounds walking along the lane that runs alongside the golf course. It was so beautiful!





This is the elementary school in Kenmore, alongside the path we were walking.





One of the gates of Taymouth Castle, looking into Kenmore. The clock is in Kenmore on the church there.





This is the main gate to the castle and golf course about three miles from Kenmore.





Jonathan insisted we pose for a photo next to this sign. We did get quite a kick out of these signs, which we found in several towns. Notice the frizzy hair I'm sporting? The damp conditions and hard water left me with a head of frizz for the entire trip.





This was one of the hundreds of streams (or burns) and waterfalls we saw along the way during our trip to Isle of Skye. The photo doesn't do the scene justice. It is hauntingly beautiful.





This is a view from the castle Eilean Donan looking up Loch Duich.






The road back from the Isle of Skye.





Eilean Donan - a beautiful castle.





The bridge over which one must pass to get to the Isle of Skye.





A shot from the viewpoint near Kilt Rock on Isle of Skye.





Another little waterfall just along the roadside.






The harbor at Portree on Isle of Skye. The dark blue part of the building on the right is a restaurant at which we enjoyed a delicious lunch.

UK Trip - Day One

The journey began at 6:00 a.m. on Saturday, May 13. We got up, took our showers, dressed, finished packing our toiletries, laptop, reading materials, and miscellany, and headed for Spokane. Our plane was scheduled to depart at 1:14 p.m. and we had been advised to be at the airport two hours early. We were to arrive at our oldest son's home at 9:30 a.m. so that he could drive us to the airport, eliminating the need to pay to park our car at the airport during our absence. That meant we had to leave our house by 8:00 at the latest. We left our driveway at 7:30, well ahead of schedule. In fact, we had time to stop for a Starbucks on the way. So far, so good. We arrived at Tommy's in plenty of time, he drove us to the airport, where we arrived with time to spare. I saw the Northwest e-ticket self-check kiosk and headed for it. It was pretty darned easy - just swipe my passport and it brought up all three of our names. In a matter of seconds, we have three boarding passes with seat assignments. Off we go to security. We decided to take only carry-on luggage. That meant we each had a carry-on suitcase with wheels and a backpack, or in my case, a large messenger bag which contained my laptop and important travel documents.

Security required every passenger to remove their shoes, regardless of type. We complied, placed our bags on the belt so they could be x-rayed, and went through the gates. They decided to pat down Tom for some reason, but beyond that, not a single hitch. We were over two hours early in Spokane International Airport. All I wanted to do was sleep. The previous night had been a restless and short one. Too bad there was nowhere to snooze.

The plane arrived and began boarding right on time. Almost three hours later we were landing in Minneapolis for a brief layover and a plane change. When we boarded our international flight, the bin with my suitcase in it didn't want to close. I did NOT want my bag checked in and watched anxiously as a passenger and a flight attendant worked to close the bin, finally succeeding. Unfortunately, on this flight, Tom, Jonathan and I occupied the middle three seats in a five seat row. Tom between Jonathan and me. We were squished, and would remain so for the next eight hours. That was the worst part of the trip. The plane was scheduled to land at Gatwick at 9:30 a.m. London time. The person next to Jonathan was obviously a frequent flier. He had the eye mask, the neck pillow, and the Bose noise-cancelling headphones. He told Jonathan if he needed to get out to just punch him in the arm. He was asleep almost before we left the ground.

I made the mistake of wearing my contact lenses on the plane. It didn't take long for my eyes to feel as if someone had poured sand into them and was rubbing it around. My contact lens solution and case were in my suitcase. Boy, was I dumb. I tried to snooze, but it just was not happening. We had decent food. Don't ask what it was because I don't remember anything except that it wasn't as bad as I thought airplane food was supposed to be. We had a movie, but I don't remember what it was either - one I'd seen before. The picture quality was horrible, as was the sound. You'd think in this day and age of amazing electronics they'd put in an LCD screen or a plasma. This was pretty terrible resolution and the color was way off. I got up to stretch my legs a couple of times and got a glimpse of first class... wow, what a way to fly. But not at triple the fare I'd paid. Although those wide, reclining seats sure looked inviting in the middle of the night.

We touched down at Gatwick right on schedule. I got off the plane first, Tom's suitcase in tow since it was nearest me. He and Jonathan were busy retrieving Jonathan's and mine. I waited for them at the entrance to the airport...and waited...and waited... and waited. Finally, a passenger coming off the plane said to me "you might be here a while. They can't get the bin open to get one of the suitcases." Great. Finally, they came walking up the jetway. Tom's body language gave his aggravation away from 30 feet away. Apparently, they almost had to get a mechanic to take the bin apart but a combined effort finally got the bin open and my suitcase was retrieved. Unfortunately, the delay put us at the end of the line for Immigration instead of the front of it. We had a half hour wait in the hot, stuffy bowels of Gatwick Airport. I was tired, thirsty, and my eyes felt like I'd been in the Sahara for a month. Finally, we were cleared through immigration and customs and headed for the British Airways gates.

Gatwick is weird. The gates for local flights are not pre-set. You have to watch a monitor and wait for it to tell you which gate your flight will be boarding at. It was barely 20 minutes before our Edinburgh flight was scheduled to leave that the gate was finally posted on the monitor. We nearly ran to the gate, but got on board, suitcases stowed, with no further mishap. Just a bit behind schedule, we landed in Edinburgh. Off to the Hertz counter to retrieve the car I'd reserved so we could embark on our Scottish adventure.

More to come...

UK Trip - First (brief) installment

We’re home.  I would so much rather be in Scotland!  What an amazing place Scotland is.  I am sure heaven will be like Scotland and every meal will be sticky toffee pudding.  

So, you’re all waiting to hear all about our trip, and I’m anxious to tell you all about it, but it will have to come in bits.  Today is my daughter’s 30th birthday and I am making dinner for her.  It’s 4 pm, they’re coming at 6, and I’ve yet to go get what I’m cooking.  So, today’s post will be limited to ten things I learned about the United Kingdom.

1. Brits are very thrifty.  By that I do not mean cheap.  I mean they are very conscientious about not wasting stuff – water, power, food, etc.  It made me realize how wasteful we Americans are.  No wonder we are thought of so poorly.  In both England and Scotland, every outlet has an on/off switch, not just lights.  All the appliances are very energy efficient.  Toilets use very little water to flush.  In England, you had two buttons, a low water and higher water flush, depending on the need.  The showers were very water and energy efficient.  The cars are TINY and very fuel efficient.  Even the Ford Mondeo Estate Wagon we had in Scotland, big by comparison to most cars, got almost 40 MPG.  At $8 per gallon for gas, that was really important.


2. Scots are the nicest people in the world.  Truly!


3. Scotland is the most beautiful place on earth.  Even the cities are beautiful.  The western highlands, Glen Coe, Isle of Skye, the Great Glen…  if you’ve never been, you need to go before you die.  If you have been, you know what I mean.  Around every bend in the road is breathtaking scenery unlike any I’ve ever seen before.  Words cannot do Scotland justice.  Photos barely capture the beauty.


4. The Brits are very polite.  Even the road signs are polite.  At the end of a stretch of road construction, the signs say “we are sorry for any delay”.  When you leave a village, a sign says “thank you for driving safely”.  The people are just as polite as their signs.


5. The central part of Scotland is so green I can’t imagine Ireland being greener, but those who have been there say it is.  Hard to believe.


6. The roads are unbelievably narrow.  The natives drive these narrow, winding roads at breakneck speeds, and tailgate with a passion, but not in an angry, hostile way like Americans.  Their tailgating was more a result of them knowing where they want to go while being stuck behind some stupid Americans who can barely drive on the left side of street from the right side of the car.  By the end of the week, we were driving at a pretty brisk pace ourselves and the roads didn’t seem quite as narrow (they are, though).  


7. Scotland is exactly how I thought it would be – small villages with stone buildings clustered around a small town center and lots of stone farmhouses with stone fences surrounding fields of sheep – while England was much more populated and towns were closer together and not as quaint as I thought it would be.


8. I think there are more sheep in Scotland than humans.


9. In Scotland, the weather truly does change about every 15 minutes.  


10. Everything is really expensive.  With the pound worth nearly two dollars, things that seemed reasonable in price – a burger and beer for 5 GBP, for example – looked a bit different once the math was done.  But it was worth every penny!


11. The food was great.  I think British food has gotten a bad rap.  We ate really well.  

So, that’s the first little post.  We loved Scotland.  We want to go back soon.  We left our hearts there.  There is so much we didn’t get to see – the northern highlands, Angus and Dundee, the Borders, the area around Oban, and Glasgow – that we want to go back and see the rest of the country.  The resort in which we stayed was stunning.  The accommodations were fabulous – clean, spacious, beautiful.  JK Rowling lives just 5 miles away outside Aberfeldy.  

I will post photos on my photobucket sometime tomorrow.  I’ll write more about our adventures in detail beginning tomorrow.  Suffice it to say, it truly was the trip of a lifetime and we are so glad we went!  Charlie, you live in an amazing place!  And I thought we had it good here in North Idaho!  

Hail Britannia!

Departure - T-minus 73 hours - until we head for Spokane. We don't fly out until 1:15 p.m. but by 8 a.m. Saturday we will leave home. Anything forgotten, well, it will be too late. Not a list maker, I'm making them like mad. I'm so certain we'll forget something important and land in a foreign land without some vital piece of apparel or information, that I'm writing down every thought that enters my head. It's making me crazy. Some who know me would challenge that statement on the grounds I'm already crazy.

So, yesterday I stressed all day over whether or not we should buy a rail pass. It would cost us about $778. It would allow us unlimited train travel over 8 consecutive days. We would begin with our trip from Edinburgh to Burton-upon-Trent on the 20th, which means our last day of unlimited travel would be the 27th. We'll be heading to London for two days on the 27th, so all London underground and bus-hopping would not be included. Nor would the train to Gatwick. When I check for fares for the ride from Scotland to England, the only thing available is going to cost us almost $270. With a pass, it will still cost us $125. I'm so confused. While we're in England, we plan to take day trips from the resort at which we're staying to Warwick Castle, Oxford, Nottingham, Stonehenge, and who knows where else. Can we get to these places easily via train or bus? What will it cost each day without a pass? I have no clue. I can't seem to find that information either. Some people who have been to the UK tell me that it's cheap to just buy a ticket each day, no pass needed. Some say a pass will be very economical. I'm thinking a pass would be great if we were heading out from a different town each day, making our way around England, but we're going to be returning to our resort each night, and there isn't a train station nearby. I think we're going to have to walk or take cabs to the nearest public transport, and I'm not really sure how far away that is. Anyway, back to my dilemma. After much (and I'm talking hours and hours) research and testing different scenarios, I finally decided to buy tickets from Edinburgh to Birmingham, which I found for only 30 GBP each. From Birmingham it's less than 30 miles to our resort. We can take another train to Lichfield, which is only 5 miles or so from the resort, or a bus, or rent a car. We just have to decide what to do. So, that's our dilemma. Do we rent a car? Will that allow us to visit all the places we want to visit more easily than taking public transport? But then we have to deal with traffic, parking, the price of gas, and driving on the wrong side of the road with a manual transmission on the wrong side of the driver. And which will be most cost effective? We're not rich. I don't want to spend the majority of our vacation funds on transportation. I was hoping to eat once in a while. So.... any thoughts, any insights, any help.... greatly appreciated. Just make it fast... T-minus 72.5 hours.

Bloomsday Results - and some drama

It’s over.  The 30th running of Bloomsday is history.  Today is the Monday after Bloomsday, and once again, I finished the course in less than two hours – my goal for this year.  Last year I said I was going to train for this year’s run and finish closer to 90 minutes.  That was not to be.  I’m in worse shape this year than I was last year, and yet I finished in pretty much the same time.  I can’t complain about that.  I guess it also goes to show (me, you?) that I can push myself when I want to, and that I’m probably not in as bad shape as I think I am.  I ran (yes, I actually did run some of it) with my daughter and her friend.  They are 29 and 26.  I think my daughter could have finished 5 or 10 minutes ahead of me, but she wanted to have fun, and that meant sticking with her old mom. What a sweetheart!  One thing did slow us down – my daughter’s friend had to use the bathroom.  She had done so just before the race started, but here she was, just about 2 miles into the race, and she had to go again – bad.  So, we had to stop and wait for her to stand in a long line to go pee.  That added almost 4 minutes to our time.  So, official time of 1:50, actual time, about 1:46, which is comparable to last year’s time.

A big part of running Bloomsday is, of course, getting the t-shirt.  The color and design are a closely guarded secret.  Part of the fun for us slowpokes is looking to catch a glimpse of the shirt on someone who has finished well ahead of you.  That usually happens around mile 6.  Sure enough, as we hit the 6 mile marker, I spied someone who was obviously a participant in what looked to be an ugly pumpkin colored shirt.  I told the girls “the shirt is orange”.  They didn’t believe me.  Around the next corner there were three or four finishers wearing their shirts standing along the side of the road.  Yep, it was an ugly rusty orange.  Actually, kind of the color of pumpkin pie.  And the design on the front is ugly.  This is the 30th Bloomsday.  You’d think it’d be splashed all over the front of the shirt.  It’s in tiny print at the bottom of this ugly tall skinny rectangle with an abstract rendition of a lilac bush and a runner in it.  Ugliest shirt ever, in my opinion.  But I’ll be wearing it, like a badge of honor, to work today, as will most everyone who ran yesterday. It’s tradition.

Though rain was forecast, and though it was raining on the trip over from Sandpoint to Spokane, and even in the eastern part of Spokane, it did not rain during the race.  It sprinkled lightly a couple of times, but not enough to make a bit of a difference.  As it turned out, the weather was perfect for running.  As soon as we finished, we walked straight to the Olive Garden in downtown Spokane, as is our tradition.  There was no line, nothing.  We got a table right away and sat our weary bodies down.  I was not the least bit hungry, so I had soup and salad only.  The girls had big meals – stuffed chicken marsala for my daughter and Portobello ravioli for her friend.  They were stuffed.  I felt perfect.  Getting up to leave was tough though.  The muscles had stiffened and it was all I could do to get the appropriate parts to move freely.  On the way home, the girls decided we should stop at Dairy Queen for a Blizzard – another tradition.  This time I let them go in without me.  I had no desire for a Blizzard.  If I was going to run off several hundred calories, I was not going to eat them back on immediately afterward.  Both of them got about halfway through their Blizzards and regretted not having just shared one between them.  It rained like crazy on the way home.  Never did rain in downtown Spokane.  I slept like a rock last night and awoke not nearly as sore as I thought I’d be.  Next year, I do have to get in better shape before the race and really try to do it in closer to 90 minutes.  

Now, for a little intrigue and mystery.  As we were walking along the Centennial Trail, (a path along the Spokane River that actually runs all the way into Coeur d’Alene from downtown Spokane) heading to the convention center to pick up our race numbers and the nifty little RFID chip that we were to strap to our ankles and which would give us each our own, accurate finishing time (new to the race this year), we saw a cell phone in the ivy in a landscape border that separated the Marriot Courtyard hotel from the path. My daughter picked it up and handed it to me.  I turned it on and saw it worked perfectly.  I decided to call the last number dialed and find out whose phone it was so we could get it back to the owner.  A girl answered saying “Alex!”  I told her that we had just found the phone and asked her who it belonged to.  She said it belonged to her friend, Alex, and she’d been trying to reach him.  We talked about options for getting it back to him, but no plan was decided upon.  I looked at his list of recent calls.  He’d madly been dialing family and friends from about 2:30 a.m. until almost 3 a.m.  It didn’t appear he’d gotten a hold of anyone by the length of the calls.  The girl I’d called said she was worried.  He’d tried to call her multiple times.  I finally decided to call the listing that said “Dad” since he’d tried to call “Dad” at 2:40 a.m.  Turned out Dad was on his way to run Bloomsday too.  But the fact that I had Alex’s phone, and we’d found it alongside the river, scared him.  He asked me to hang on to the phone and we’d keep in touch.  I had to call him on my phone because Alex’s phone was almost dead.  Dad made several calls.  I tried to get more info from Alex’s phone by looking at text messages he’d sent and received, etc.  While I was looking at Alex’s phone, it rang.  I answered it and told the caller what the deal was.  The caller was a friend and knew who Alex was with the night before.  He said he’d start calling around and he’d call Dad.  Now everyone is getting really worried.  Apparently, Alex has his jaw wired shut and, according to Dad, shouldn’t be out drinking (my first assumption was he’d been drunk and lost it), but then, we all know how our kids do things they shouldn’t do (does the name Jonathan ring a bell?).  So, as I’m waiting at the start of Bloomsday, Dad is frantically looking for Alex.  He calls every few minutes to ask me questions like where exactly did we find it, was it where it might have fallen off the overpass? (no), how close to the river was it?  I knew what he was thinking – the same things I’d be thinking if it were my kid, the same things I was worried about myself for this kid.  Finally, Dad decided he’s going to forego Bloomsday and keep looking for his kid.  Turns out, he was out drinking with his friends, got separated from them, and was walking around in a drunken stupor alone.  Now we’re all worried.  Dad calls and decides to meet me along the Bloomsday course and get Alex’s phone.  About three or four blocks into the race, I see Dad talking to me on his phone describing himself.  I give him the phone, ask him to please let us know what happens, and tell him we’ll be praying for him and Alex.  So, we run, worrying and wondering about Alex.  

After the race, once we order our food at the Olive Garden, I call Dad.  He starts off by thanking me for finding the phone, for making such a concerted effort to get it back to Alex, and for calling him.  He has just retrieved Alex from Taco Bell about a mile or so from where we found the phone.  Apparently, Alex was robbed.  He was beaten up some too, but was okay.  His dad didn’t go into much detail.  He’d only had Alex for about 15 minutes.  He said Alex would call me in a couple of days to thank me.  I asked how old Alex was.  21.  Of course.  I’m sure Alex is not too happy with me.  He’s probably glad I found his phone, but now his dad knows about his night, and he probably would have rather told his dad about it at his convenience as opposed to have a frantic dad, friends, mother, and half the world looking for him.  I don’t know yet where he spent the night, how he got to Taco Bell, or how his phone got separated from him and in the bushes by the Marriot (did the thieves toss it there?  Did he lose it?) but I’m definitely going to ask Alex to fill me in when he does call.  So, that was our dramatic back story as we ran Bloomsday.  Thankfully, Alex is okay and not floating in the Spokane River, as was our deepest fear.  Maybe this will be a wake-up call to Alex as to how he should spend his Saturday nights.  We’ll see.  After all, he is only 21.

MIA? Sort of.

I’ll probably be mostly MIA for the next few days, maybe the next few weeks.  Only eleven days until we depart for the UK.  I am trying desperately to complete some projects at work before my departure, line up my back-up help in case the library has any problems while I’m incommunicado, and get myself together at home as I prepare for the trip.  Next weekend we have to move most of Jonathan’s stuff home from school.  The following week is finals week, so he’ll be swamped.  Sunday I’m participating (I’m not going to even suggest that I’ll be running) in Bloomsday with my daughter.  I’ll be a wreck for most of the day after that and probably won’t be able to walk for the next two days.  The following week will be filled with packing, making lists against which I will check to make sure we don’t forget anything important, like passports, airline confirmations, and hotel/condo confirmations.  In addition to all this frenzied activity, I will be mowing the lawn twice a week in an attempt to keep up with the seemingly steroid-induced growth of our lawn.  I’ve got to find a power converter for my curling iron and laptop, arrange for my cat to be fed and tended to (son-in-law usually takes care of this on his way to work), and borrow camera lenses from my dad.  There is almost too much to do and so little time in which to do it.  So… I may not blog, may not comment on blogs, though I’ll probably read them when I can.  I’m thinking of you all.

Just a quickie

My project at work, which had a deadline of today - sort of - is not going well. I am having all sorts of strange glitches that the software vendor has never seen before. Of course. Unless some miracle takes place in the next few days, this project will not be completed before I depart for Merry Olde England. At least my boss understands it's not my fault.

Yesterday AM I called the resort in Scotland and the one in England at which we will be staying. They had both sent me these little forms wherein I could check off the things I would be needing during my stay (crib, high chair, food pack) and mail it back to them. I never got around to mailing it, so decided to phone in my needs. The food pack costs 10 pounds. I had no idea what it included, but assumed it was stuff like tea, coffee, salt and pepper maybe...who knew. So, first call is to Scotland. She was very nice, but really hard to understand. I think I got a preview of how communications might go while we're there.

She: mbgltdld dlek Kenmore Club skadf.
Me: Is this the Kenmore Club?
She: Yes
Me: This is Gina E. We are arriving on May 14. I have not sent the paper back saying I would like a food pack, so I wanted to call to let you know that we do want one. Can you tell me what is in it?
She: tay, butterrrrr, eggs, milk, mmmblglfkat
Me: Sounds great. We'd like that please.
She: D'u have u'rrrrr rrrrrreservation number?
Me: Not on me. Can you find it by our name?
She: I'll give it a go. When r u arrrrriving now?
Me: May 14
She: Herrrrre it is. alrrrright then. got u doon fur a food pack. Thank u.
Me: Thanks very much.

Then I called England:

She: Wychnor Park Country Club. May I 'elp you?
Me: This is me... we're arriving on May 20, blah blah blah
She: Do you have your reservation number?
Me: Not with me. Can you look me up?
She: I'm not sure, love, but let me give it a go. Your name is (I tell her and spell it)... you are arriving when now, sweetheart? (I tell her the date) Thomas and Gina?
Me: Yes, that's us.
She: Here it is! Great. Now what was it you wanted?
Me: Can you tell me what is in the food pack?
She: Bread, butter, milk, tea, jam, it's quite nice really, love.
Me: Yes, we'd like one please.
She: Alright then, sweetheart. I have you down for the food pack. And we'll see you on May 20th then.
Me: This is our first trip to the UK.
She: Oh, you'll have a lovely time. The Americans really loov it here with all the history and all. It's really quite loovely here.
Me: Well, thank you very much for your help.
She: Thank you now, love. And you have a safe flight over, now. We'll see you soon.

So, I think we'll manage find in England, but I'm not so sure about Scotland. Half of what the gal said I could not make out at all. And she was not nearly as animated and friendly as the English gal. I guess we'll see when we arrive. But it's nice to know what the food pack contains! It's much more than we'd anticipated and should make breakfasts pretty easy.

Jonathan had his dorm lottery Monday, during which students put in for the dorm room they want for the coming school year. If you want to stay in the same room, and your roommate does too, you get it automatically. If you don't want your same room, or you do but your roommate won't be your roommate, but you want to stay in your same dorm, you get dibs over an "outsider". If you're going into a different dorm, your chances of getting a particular room are based upon a combination of points (1 for each year you've been at school) and your lottery number (a random number assigned by computer). Jonathan's roommate won't be back next year so he couldn't call same room. He also didn't have anyone picked to room with next year, so he decided he wanted a single room. It will cost about $400 more than if he had a roommate, but since he'll only be on campus for one semester, and he promised to pay the difference, we okayed that option. Since he's staying in the same dorm, he had no trouble at all getting the room he wanted. It's just down the hall from his current room, and will be a great room for him. Not having a roommate has its pros and cons. He won't have to deal with anyone else's mess or sleeping habits or noise, but it might get kind of lonely. Fortunately, he's right next door to the showers so there will be a lot of activity right outside his door. I think it will work out well for him. So, pretty much all the deadlines have been met for next year, with the exception of my completion of the renewal FAFSA, which I will do today.

Now....off to work on my glitch-filled project.

It's begun

Mowing season. In one day, the weather went from downpour after downpour, to moments of sunshine, to a full day of sun. Grass is amazing stuff. It can go from brown and dormant to spring green and growing like a weed overnight. Ours did. In just a a couple of days it went from short and tidy looking and still dormant to too long to mow with the mulching mower. That was Sunday. Not only was it too long, but about half an inch below the tops of the grass blades, it was a soggy, boggy mess. But we mowed anyway. Now, the backyard has grass turds all over it. That's what I call the clumps of grass that the mulcher leaves behind when it can't cope with the length and sogginess of the grass. Hundreds and hundreds of grass turds dot our lawn. We tried to pick them up, rake them up even, to no avail. They just break into grass turd pellets, like rabbit pellets, and bury themselves deep into the lawn. My shoes, after that first round of mowing, looked like grass slippers. No, not glass slippers, GRASS slippers. You couldn't tell that I had black loafers under the grass. My jeans were green from the hem to about the top of my ankle. My hands looked like they belonged to a Martian, green and slimey. I hate this time of year. And guess what I get to do tonight? Yeah, round two. At least it's shorter, and not wet. But still.... it's only mid-April. I'm not ready for this.