I'm Here...At Last!

I made it! That wild scheme I came up with two years ago is finally a reality. Nikki and I landed at Edinburgh Airport last Friday. From the airport we had to take a bus to the the train station to catch our train to Inverness. And to my surprise, who should be waiting at the Edinburgh train station for us? SHAUNA! She had flown in from India the night before to surprise me. Nikki was in on it so she knew to look for her sister when we got to the station. They had been planning this for a couple of weeks. Nik had even been in touch with the B&B in Inverness to let them know that there would be three of us but that it was a surprise to me.

I was a very happy mom as we all boarded the train for Inverness. I think my face was glued to the window for the entire three and a half hour ride. We checked into our B&B and then went in search of dinner. We found a really good restaurant in the town center called The Mustardseed. After dinner we went for a nice long walk along the River Ness and across to the little island in the middle of the river.

On Saturday we went out the the Culloden Battlefield. The National Trust for Scotland built a new Visitor's Center last year and the new exhibition on the events leading up to the battle, the battle itself, and the aftermath of the battle is much improved over the old one. We spent several hours there which concluded with a walk around the battlefield itself. Then it was back into town to head over to the pub to see Schiehallion play. Fabuluous! They played from 5pm-8pm at The Gellions and then from 9:30pm-12:30am at Hotanannys. We had a great time. I've played Schiehallion's CD so much since it came out and devoured all the YouTube videos but there is nothing like hearing the music live. Kenny has such an amazing voice and the kind of music he sings just feeds my soul. We met all the "regulars" and they welcomed me to Inverness with such genuine enthusiasm. Kenny offered to show me around after the girls left. On Sunday the girls and I took a historical tour of Inverness before landing at Finlay's (another pub!) to catch the band again. Knowing that Nikki and Shauna were leaving the next morning, Laura (one of the "regulars"), told the girls not to worry about their mom, that they would take good care of me!

The next morning Kenny picked me up and we went out to the Black Isle to watch the dolphins. They come in each day about noon to feed on the salmon. The dolphins must take Mondays off 'cause they didn't show that day but we had a lovely time anyway, sitting by the water, talking and watching the seals. After a few hours we drove back into town to look at one of Kenny's houses that he rents out on a shared basis. The house has 4 bedrooms but only one was occupied. I had been set on getting a single apartment but I figured it wouldn't hurt to look at what Kenny had to rent. The house is in a nice neighborhood called Hilton and there is a bustop just right around the corner. I decided to take it and Kenny came by the B&B for me and my suitcases yesterday, which we dropped off at the house before going out to lunch. My housemate is a really nice guy named Ian. We've had a few friendly conversations and he seems very laid back so I think it's going to work out fine. Kenny's uncle is up from Dumbarton for a week or so so there are actually 3 of us in the house at the moment.

I love Inverness. It's small enough that you really can't get too lost but it's a very lively town with a population of about 72,000 (minus all the tourists!). There is plenty of shopping and the pubs are always in full swing. Not to mention that it is in the heart of The Highlands. So much to see and do!

For someone who just landed I sure don't feel like a lone stranger in town. Between spending time with Kenny on Monday and Tuesday, having Ian and Chris at the house, and getting to know the regular Schiehallion crowd at the pubs I certainly haven't been lonely! It's off to the Gellions again tonight!

I have died and gone to heaven in the Scottish Highlands!

Full Circle In Germany

When I arrived in Germany 10 months ago I stayed with Nikki and Bert for a couple of months until I moved into my apartment. Now, at the end of my stay, I'm back. The shipping company picked up all my boxes in Mannheim last Thursday. I closed the door to my cute little "hobbitty" apt one last time and came back to Ludwigshafen. When I got here I looked at Nikki, sighed, and said, "Well, I'm homeless again." We both laughed because all that means is that the dream is finally at hand.

Bert had to go to Munich for work on Thursday and won't be home until tomorrow morning and Nikki doesn't work on Fridays so we have had a very nice long mother-daughter weekend, just the two of us hanging out. We ran some weekend errands on Friday and on Saturday we went to the farmers market, did some cleaning and then went for a long walk in Luisenpark. Yesterday we both slept late and then I went to the park to get in a few miles while Nikki did some lesson planning in advance of being gone next weekend. When I came home we had a lovely dinner on the balcony and then watched movies.

I have so enjoyed this last year in Germany. The experience has been very different from the first time I lived here. Not better or worse, just different. The best part, though, has been being so close to Nikki. That also means that the worst part about leaving will be leaving Nikki. I'm so excited about finally moving to Scotland and she shares that excitement with me but we are both so aware that it means another good-bye. I'm glad she's going with me for a few days when I leave. We're just going to play when we get to Inverness next weekend. We'll go to the pub a couple of times to see Scheihallion play, take a trip out to Culloden, walk along the river Ness and just do some poking around town. Then she'll fly back to Germany on Monday.

I will miss my little Pickle.

German-American Freundschaft

This is my last night in my little "hobbitty" apartment in Mannheim. I was so lucky to find this cubby when I came to Germany. Not just because it is such a cute little apartment...perfect size, fully furnished, nice neighborhood...but because of the people who own the house and live in the apartment just below me.

Peter and Barbara have been absolutely wonderful to me in the time that I have been renting from them. They have done so many little things for me that go beyond just being good landlords. Peter helped Bert and me schlep my boxes up to the third floor when I moved in and tonight he has parked his car on the street so we could put all my boxes in their garage in preparation for the movers tomorrow. When I left to go to Berlin four days after moving in here they heard me bumping my suitcases down the stairs and insisted that Peter should help me get the bags to the tram stop. When Barbara realized that, because of my Berlin trip, I would only spend a total of 18 days in the apt. during Jan and Feb she insisted that I not pay rent for the month of Feb! She had no idea how short of money I was at that point and what a gift her gesture was.

My rent includes utilities and wireless internet. I've tried to be conscientious about energy comsumption (turning off lights and, in winter, putting on a sweater instead of cranking up the radiators), but when we had a bit of a cold spell this last spring Barbara made a point of telling me to turn the radiators back on if I needed them. She wanted to be sure that I stayed warm! And when I lost my internet connection in March Peter went out of his way to get me back online as soon as possible. His connection was fine but he replaced his modem to reestablish mine.

Barbara's daughter Miriam lives here in Mannheim and often spends Sunday afternoons with her mother and Peter. Barbara always cooks a big lunch when Miriam comes over and since I moved in they have invited me to join them on a regular basis. Barbara is a fabulous cook and I have enjoyed our long Sunday lunches tremendously. The conversation is always fun and interesting and I have especially enjoyed getting to know Miriam. She is delightful but I must say I've never seen such a tiny girl who could pack away so much food at one sitting! LOL! It has kind of become a running joke at lunch...my amazement at Miriam's capacity.

I've spent several very enjoyable Saturday afternoons hiking with Barbara and Peter and the evening that they invited me to go to the ballet with them was great fun.
One of the sweetest things, though, has been something very simple. Barbara reads the paper on a daily basis and whenever she reads something that she thinks would be of interest to me, whether it's news of a change in the tram schedule or a community event or a sale on "American" items at the grocery store, she cuts out the article or notice or whatever it is and leaves it on the stairs for me. Just a little thing but so thoughtful.

What I have been most grateful for, though, was how understanding they were about Lucy. They didn't even ask for a "pet deposit" when I moved in. I knew that Lucy didn't always get her butt all the way in the litter box when she had to pee so, from the beginning, I laid heavy plastic under the "pee" pads in front of her box to make sure that the wood floor was extra protected.
Letting your renter have an indoor cat is one thing (most cats are very fastidious about using the litter box) but it wouldn't have been unreasonable in this situation for Peter or Barbara to voice concern. After all it was my cat and their floor! But they never did. When they asked about Lucy it was only to inquire about how she was getting along. They were both very sweet to her and Barbara was here to say goodbye on that last day.

Last Sunday, they had a going away BBQ for me. Miriam and Daniel (Barbara's son) both came and the next door neighbors were invited, as well as Nikki and Bert. As a going away gift they gave me a book about humor that I am looking forward to reading. It was a lovely afternoon and very much appreciated.

It has been such a pleasure to get to know Peter and Barbara. They have been much more than just my landlords. They are friends who I will miss. I know they like to travel and I'm hoping they will come to visit me in Scotland sometime so I can, in some small way, return their hospitality.

Step By Step

I feel like I'm so close I can taste the haggis! 10 days away from the big move. Everything is packed and the movers come on Thursday to take away my meager belongings. I'll do a bit of cleaning and then move with my suitcases over to Nikki and Bert's for the last week.

Today I'm going to Luisenpark. I haven't been in about a week and a half. What with losing Lucy, then going out of town for that weekend and then packing I just haven't had the time for my daily walking. But I looked around this morning and realized that everything is done so off to the park I go! Just me, my tennis shoes and my iPod.

Craig Ferguson Explains Where It All Went Wrong

Hahahahaha!!!!

Looking To The Future

I can't believe I'm finally counting days (15!) instead of weeks or months until my move to Scotland. I started packing today. The shipping company doesn't come until Thursday next week so there is no real rush about it. It's not like I have a lot to pack, anyway. Everything I own these days would fit into the back of a pickup truck! But it's still a pain in the ass to have to pack....again!

I decided to wait til I get to Inverness to start looking for an apt. So I'm booked into a Bed and Breakfast for the first 2 weeks (the moving company will hold my stuff until I find a place). Nikki is flying with me to Inverness. We seem to have a pattern going. She and I took Shauna to Seattle for grad school. Shauna accompanied Nikki on her move to Germany and now Nikki is going with me to Scotland. We'll play for 3 days and then she'll fly back to Germany and I'll begin a serious search for a place to live. I thought about looking into a roommate situation. There are lots advertised online, but I've realized that I like living alone. I've gotten really used to the privacy and freedom of living by myself and unless it's for a tall good looking bug killing bed warming Scotsman, I don't think I want to give those things up.

Sara (from Nikki and Shauna's high school and college days) just moved to Germany with her Army husband Jared and their two little boys. They are stationed in Hohenfels which is down south from here in Bayern (Bavaria). Nikki and I were planning on going to see them just before I leave but I just couldn't spend those first couple of days at home after losing Lucy so we decided to go this last weekend instead. It was wonderful to see Sara again and meet Jared and the boys. And it was the perfect diversion to keep my mind occupied....most of the time. We spent Saturday and Sunday exploring the town of Regensburg, which sits along the Danube. Sara has the cutest kids! The funniest part of the visit was when 3 yr. old Julius looked up at the massive cathedral in Regensburg and said, "Oh my god! Who lives there?" I'm still laughing at that one.

The last several days at home have been very strange without Lucy. I keep expecting her to meet me at the door when I come home. The apt feels very empty without her but I'm trying to keep myself busy by packing and getting ready for the move.

My Bitty is gone and my heart is broken....

My Heart Is Breaking

Almost 19 years....that's how long Lucy has been with me. Through all the changes in my life over the last two decades this furry little creature has been my constant companion. She has lived in 9 different homes with me and has traveled across the ocean from Germany to Arizona, across the U.S. from Arizona to Pennsylvania, and back across the ocean to within a couple of hours of where she was born. In preparation for our Journey to the Highlands Lucy has been vaccinated, microchipped and blood tested for entry to the UK. My motto has always been "Where I go, so goes the bitty."

But the time has come to say good-bye. Lucy is mostly deaf these days and her sight is also failing. She weighs next to nothing. It's hard to find a place to pet that isn't just skin and bones. She has lost a great deal of strength in her limbs and she hasn't been able to jump up on the couch for several months now. Often she'll be standing in one place and one, sometimes two, of her legs will just start sliding away from her. She has also stopped any kind of feline grooming. I have to wash her face for her after she eats. It's like she doesn't even realize that her nose, chin and whiskers are all covered with kitty food.
I've had to put puppy pee pads in front of her litter box for a long time now. She uses the box just fine when she has to poop but she can't seem to get her butt all the way in when she only needs to pee. So I change pee pads several times a day. Over the last week or so she doesn't even try to get in the box to pee. She just squats in the general vicinity. The area of pee pads has become about 3 feet by 3 feet with heavy plastic underneath. I could go on describing all the other signs of deterioration but you get the picture. I just don't think she has the strength or stamina for what is to come over the next couple of months and I don't think it would be fair to expect her to endure it all just because I can't bring myself to let go.

When Lucy was diagnosed with diabetes in 2000 I was sure that the diabetes would take her from me before she reached old age. I gave her her first insulin injection on my 43rd birthday (and her 10th birthday). My birthday wish that year and every year since then has been for her good health. Notwithstanding a few bumps along the way she has done very well. So her diabetes, in the end, is not the culprit. It is simply old age.

I have spent 19 years giving her the best care that I possibly can and she has given me that same number of years of unconditional love in return. A lot of people say that cats aren't as affectionate as dogs. Those of you who have known Lucy know that she somehow didn't get that memo. Her sole objective in life has always been, not just to be held, but to be snuggled. It has long been a family joke that " the bitty", as we call her, is downright demented when it comes to needing affection. Most cats don't like to be held tightly or feel like they are being restrained. Then there is Lucy! This is a kitty who was never happy to just sit on my lap. She wanted to be cuddled and would actually put her little 'arms' on either side of my neck and press her face to mine in an effort to get closer. She would let me kiss her eyes and her nose and her cheeks without pulling away. She even rubbed noses with me. I would touch my nose to hers and rub a little bit. Then she would start rubbing back and forth and up and down until I was giggling too much for her to continue. She spent her days in a constant effort to get me to pick her up. I've often joked that Lucy would be happiest if I just put her in a snuggly and carried her around all day.

I use the past tense to describe Lucy's personality because she doesn't do these things anymore. Now when I sit on the couch and hold her on my chest I have to help her position her legs. It's difficult for her to get comfortable. She doesn't tuck her face into mine anymore and she seems to have some tender spots when I stroke her. She hasn't even slept in the bed with me in about 6 months. We used to go to sleep together, with her under the covers and cuddled in my arms. Now she sleeps on the floor.

As is always the case with old age, all of this has crept up on us a little at a time, but the cumulative effect of all of these changes is that my sweet girl has gotten very old and is now just existing from day to day. So I have come, with great difficulty and much sadness, to the decision that it is time to let her go. I called her vet this morning and made an appointment for Friday afternoon. Nikki and Bert are going with us for morale support but in the end it will be just Lucy and me. I'll hold her and stay with her til the end.

I just can't imagine what next week and next month and next year will be like without the bitty. My heart is breaking..........

28 Days!

We bought plane tickets today! Nikki and I will fly to Edinburgh on the 7th of August....exactly 4 weeks from today.

Quit job....check
Sell everything....check
Apply to UHI....check
Leave Tucson....check
Sell house....check
Sell Dad's house....check
Settle the estate....check
Get British visa....check
Buy one way ticket to Scotland....CHECK!

Ms. Shauna Goes To India

Shauna had barely landed back in Seattle after her visit with us in Germany when she had to begin making plans to go to India. The "powers that be" at Google decided that she was needed at the office in Bangalore for a couple of months. She left Seattle last Friday and managed a weekend layover here before finishing her flight to the other side of the planet. We had an absolutely lovely weekend.

Nikki and I picked her up at the airport in Frankfurt and brought her back to my place in Mannheim so she could drop her stuff and take a shower. We then hopped the Strassenbahn for downtown to do some serious "appropriate Indiawear" shopping. It was a very successful excursion. She found just what she needed, light and airy but covering shoulders and upper arms. Around 8:30pm we decided to end our day with some Irish Stew at Murphy's Law Irish Pub. It was a beautiful evening so we were able to sit outside and enjoy the weather while we ate.

The next day we packed up the food that Nikki and I had prepared, collected Peter and Barbara from downstairs and headed to Luisenpark for our "5th" of July picnic. I was so glad that P&B were able to join us. I really wanted Shauna to meet them. They have been so wonderful to me while I've been here renting their little upstairs apartment.

We found our little patch of green and spread our blankets. We had chicken, potato salad, grapes, apple slices, carrots, little sausages, pepper slices, 2 kinds of cheese, 3 kinds of crackers, wine and a delicious sort of cherry bread pudding that Barbara had made. The five of us spent a lovely couple of hours, sitting in the shade nibbling our goodies. Barbara and Peter left us just before 4pm and the girls and I lounged around on the blankets for another couple of hours. It was just what we needed...time to just talk and laugh and enjoy one another's company with no distractions. The park is open until 9pm and it was another pretty evening so around 6:30pm we decided to just walk...and talk...and talk some more.

The next morning Nik and I took our little traveler back to the airport where we had to say goodbye to her for the second time in as many weeks. It's never easy to say goodbye. At the same time, though, we were very excited for her. She's wanted to see India for a very long time.
She has arrived safe and sound in Bangalore and has started a new blog to chronicle her India adventures (I've also added a link on the sidebar). I'm so glad because I want to know every little happening of her experience and hear her thoughts and impressions of it all.

The British Government Said YES!

My British visa arrived this morning!

It has been such a long process trying to get to this point that I can hardly believe it's actually finally happening. I feel as if I've been trying to run a marathon through a very large vat of molasses.
The last step in making this crazy dream of mine a reality was to get a visa for the UK. I was really nervous about being denied for some reason or another. There really was no good reason for the British gov't to deny me a visa but ALL my plans hinged on them approving my application so I have been really nervous about it.

The last three weeks have been excruciating! I have felt like I was going to explode from the tension of waiting. It's been difficult to concentrate on anything and occasionally I would panic and think, "OMG, what if they deny my application! What the hell will I do then?" Then I would have to calm myself and reassure me that I have everything they require of me and there is no reason to be denied. But this is still governmental bureaucracy we're talking about here. Anything could happen. So around and around I would go in my mind.

But my visa arrived this morning. They said YES! The last piece has finally fallen into place. So all systems are finally GO. I can pack my stuff, arrange for a temporary place to stay in Inverness - until I find an apt. - and buy a one-way plane ticket. Look out Scotland, here I come!

Michael Jackson: Legend or Scumbag?

I am amazed at the level of grief being exhibited over the death of Michael Jackson. The man was undeniably talented. But he was also a pedophile! Ah, I can hear some of you now..."But that was never proven". Yeah, well, when you have the money to buy off your victim's families....

OJ Simpson got off too. Anyone really believe he was innocent? I see Michael Jackson in the same light. A man who got away with a terrible crime. The difference is that OJ Simpson didn't have as many fans as Michael Jackson. Fans who choose to ignore the horrible things he did in light of his talent as an artist.

Hitler was a talented artist, too. But you won't see any of his paintings on my wall! What's that you say? "Hitler was responsible for the death of 12 million people. How can you compare MJ to Adolf Hitler?" I can because they were both dishonorable human beings with no compassion for their victims.

If Jackson were the middle aged balding untalented pedophile who lived down the street we would all being saying, "Good riddance to bad rubbish". Well, I still say, "Good riddance to bad rubbish"! How can anyone who has children defend the reputation of this man? How can anyone who even knows a child? Children are to be protected and nurtured. Michael Jackson used his celebrity to abuse the most innocent of our society and the public let him get away with it because they liked his music! Evidently OJ Simpson wasn't as good a football player as Jackson was a singer and dancer. Poor Adolf also failed in the popularity contest.

I'm not saying that we cannot overlook the chinks in the armor of our "heros". There are many celebs whose behavior I disapprove of but I can still admire their work. Their job is to entertain me. What they do with the rest of their lives is not my concern. I grew up with Michael Jackson's music. I loved the Jackson 5 when I was a teenager. And I liked a lot of his later music, too. Jackson got increasingly weird as he got older. No crime there. No reason to stone the man for being eccentric. If that had been all there was to it I would have no problem with the outpouring of grief over his death. But that is not all there is to it! I cannot ignore the fact that he molested young boys. In light of that, all else pales.

Scumbag trumps legend.

Family Time Part I

The past couple of weeks have been busy, busy, busy! Michael was here from the 4th to the 13th . Shauna arrived two days after Michael got here and Steve flew in from Africa on the 10th (He just spent two months working on a linguistics project in Mali!).

Nikki put a lot of time and effort into creating and coordinating our group itinerary for the duration of Michael's visit (It was his first trip back to Germany since we left in '93). We took him to Neustadt the day he arrived. It's such a pretty little town and it made for an enjoyable but relaxing afternoon. It was really fun to watch Michael's excitement at being here and taking pictures of him with all the unique Neustadt-y stuff. We met Nik's friends, Linda and Clemens, for dinner that evening (Schnitzel und Pommes, naturlich!). We decided it was time to go home when poor Michael threatened to fall asleep in his beer. The next day the three of us made what we have affectionately dubbed 'the pilgrimage'. It's the trip back to Ramstein-Miesenbach and Kaiserslautern that we have each made as part of our first trip back to Germany. The twins did it when Nikki first moved back here in Sept. of '06 and I did it when I visited Nik in the summer of '07. So this time it was Michael's turn. It really is strange, the first time going back there, really like bringing a memory back to life. Some things have changed but some things are exactly the same as they were when we first moved to Miesenbach over 20 years ago.We even ran into Karin Nasshan while we were visiting Waldstrasse 3b and 3c! Her parents owned 3b when we lived there. Dave and Nena lived below us and Karin lived above us. She owns the house now and lives there with her husband and daughter.

Shauna arrived on Saturday and that evening the four of us had dinner at my apt. I had asked her to bring me a bottle of good tequila when she came (the tequila here is just crap) never dreaming that she would bring Herradura! But she did! If you're a tequila lover (as I am) and have never had Herradura then you are missing out on something wonderful. After dinner we met up with Linda and Clemens again; this time at Murphy's Law, an Irish pub here in Mannheim. They both know Nikki as 'just Nikki' and I know they were looking forward to meeting her identical twin, whom they had heard so much about. It's always a fun time at Murphy's but after a few beers it was time to bring Michael and Shauna home and put their poor little jet lagged selves to bed. I slept well that night with all three of my kids here. The girls in the extra bedroom and Michael on the couch in the living room. The next morning we had a big breakfast, yak, yak, yakked, played on the computer, listened to music and just generally bumped around in our jammies until mid afternoon when we all migrated over to Nikki's place.
That evening found the four of us sitting at Hemmingway's, a bar in Ludwigshafen, engrossed in conversation about Watergate and American presidential politics.

On Monday we employed trains, busses and our own 8 feet to get us to the very impressive Burg Berwartstein where we toured the castle, ate at the cafe, and picked up a few postcards before deciding to go to France for dinner....since we were so close. Shauna, still being so jet lagged, was lulled into peaceful slumber for most of the bus ride and missed the beautiful scenery along the way. After about an hour we arrived in Wissembourg. We poked around for a while and then settled ourselves at an outdoor cafe that one of Nikki's students happened to have previously recommended to her. Michael took the opportunity to venture into the rubbery world of escargo while the girls and I opted for wine, Irish coffee and cake. After that it was a lovely walk back through the town to the train station where we boarded our train for home.

Tuesday morning found us back on the Deutsche Bahn. This time headed north. First stop...Koeln (Cologne) to show Michael the Koelner Dom, one of the most impressive cathedrals in Germany. I used to take tour groups there on a fairly regular basis back in my USO days so I was excited to go back, this time with my kids. We took the guided tour in English and I tried not to roll my eyes when the guide began telling us about the magnificently adorned chest at the high alter which contained the bones of the Three Wise Men.....yes, THOSE three wise men! It seems like every important cathedral in Europe somehow manages to have some biblical relic or another. The cathedral in Trier claims to have the Holy Robe of Christ (the garment worn during the crucifixtion).

All of that aside, though, visiting the beautiful churches of Europe is one of my favorite things to do. I stand in awe of the vision of those long ago architects, stonemasons, and carpenters who gave decades and sometimes their entire lives to the building of these churches. The evidence of their dedication is in the beauty and grandeur of their craftsmanship. To wander through these magnificent structures that have endured through centuries of time is like reaching back and touching history, touching the lives of those ordinary people who knowingly or unknowingly gave us gifts beyond measure. To me the treasure is not in what these churches purportedly hold within their walls. The treasure is in the stories and the history of the people who built them.

From Koeln we headed to Bonn and the birthplace of Beethoven. I'm not really a fan of any kind of classical music but the kids were all exposed to Beethoven at a very young age and the love of his music is a gift from their father. The house where Ludwig was born is now a museum and holds an extensive and impressive array of Beethoven memorabilia and historical documents. I found it all very interesting but no more so than any other 'birth-house turned museum'. It wasn't the emotional experience for me that it was for the kids. I wish I could have exchanged myself for Wade for those few hours. It really should have been him going from room to room and display case to display case with them, listening to bits of music, seeing the pianos, reading the letters. I've enjoyed lots of wonderful travel experiences with my kids but this one rightfully belonged to their father. It would have made it so much more special to share it with Dad.

One of the things that we wanted to do while Michael was here was to take an afternoon cruise up the Rhine River but we just couldn't fit it in. So we were pleasantly surprised when the train ride home from Bonn followed right along the river for a good bit of time which included the route we would have taken had we been on a boat. So Michael still got to see the Lorelei Rock, the vineyards and all the cool castles along the river, albeit in a rather sped up fashion. And, as expected, he let out a loud guffaw as we passed the river town of Assmanshausen.

We got home pretty late that night and I was happy to kiss my kids goodnight as I got off the train in Mannheim and they continued on across the river to Ludwigshafen. We were all looking forward to Steve's arrival the next day coupled with the fact that Bert was going to be able to take a few days off from work as well. We had lots more fun stuff planned. To be continued......

Bonk! Bonk! Bonk!

OK, I know I've gone a bit video crazy lately, but this one is just too cute not to post!

A Funny Thing Happened On The Way To The Ballet...or...Dancing With The Stars

When Barbara and Peter invited me to go to the ballet I assumed it would be a classical performance. Having never been to a ballet before, I enthusiastically accepted their invitation. But as it turned out tonight's performance was not classical at all. It was a performance by Hubbard Street Dance Chicago a modern dance troupe from, well....Chicago. Afterward, Barbara explained to me that there really isn't a distinction made between the different types of dance that one might see when attending the Mannheim Ballet. So tonight was not what I had expected at all. No ballet slippers, no tutus, no swans. But, rather, a high energy show by a group of amazing young dancers accompanied by really good music. I was not in the least disappointed. I love modern dance. I am always amazed at the beauty that can be created by the movement of the human body. The first part of the performance had a very classical feel to it, though. Very smooth and romantic dances but definitely with a modern flair. The curtain came down for the first intermission and I was pleased with the show so far and looking forward to the the next two segments.

After about a 20 minute intermission we settled back down into our seats for the second part of the performance. It was at this point that the dancers really ratcheted up the energy level. The next 15 or 16 minutes was a chaotic visual feast. All 12-14 dancers were on stage at the same time. Sometimes they were all moving; sometimes only 1 or 2...or 4 or 5. They were all wearing jeans or dark khakis or some other nondescript type of pants. What really caught my eye, though, were their shirts. Nothing special, just what you might see anyone wearing walking down the street. But each one was a different solid color. This use of color combined with the energetic dance movements of so many people at once looked to me like a rainbow of popping corn. It was fabulous!

After the second intermission about 9 of the dancers came out wearing oversized dark men's suits and hats. Their dancing was less frenetic than before but no less athletic or amazing. Then they all suddenly walked down the steps and off the stage. They positioned themselves at various points in the audience with one young man standing right next to me. Hmmm....thinks me. I wonder what they're doing? Next thing I know this young man held out his hand to me and beckoned me to come with him! As did the other dancers, each to a different audience member. As I put my hand in his and left my seat I heard myself thinking, Oh this might not be such a good idea. But he put his other arm around me and, oh so gracefully, escorted me up on the stage. I had no idea what to expect but it was certainly too late at this point to chicken out so I just decided to have fun with it....whatever it was! It was great! We were like interactive props. They danced around us, with us, and at us. All to the music of the Bossanova. All I could think of at that moment was the movie Born Romantic and wished I had, at some point in my life, taken Latin dance lessons. They had us up there for probably ten minutes, most of which are truthfully kind of blur to me, but I'm pretty sure I had fun. One by one, they released us to go back to our seats where we all watched the rest of the show wondering, What the hell just happened to me?

As we were leaving the theater, afterward, Barbara, Peter and I were laughing about the whole thing and Peter showed me the picture he had taken with his phone of me on stage. I asked him to email it to me. I'll add it to this post when I get it but for now suffice to say that it was a wonderful dance performance (theirs, not mine!) and my unexpected little excursion into the spotlight definitely made it an evening to remember!

An Amazing Voice

So you all know that I love everything Scottish. Why else would I have quit my job, sold my house and dismantled my life in Arizona to chase my dream of living in The Scottish Highlands and studying the history of this amazing country?

When I think of spending my days in an academic environment with other people who are just as daft about the history of Scotland as I am I feel like a little kid waiting for the first day of school. Wait....I am. Well, not a little kid, certainly, but waiting for the first day of school, definitely (Sept 7th)! I have learned so much of Scotland's history on my own but I can't wait to get into the classroom where there are teachers who know a hell of a lot more than I do and who are there to share their knowledge!

But there is much more to Scotland than just her political and social history. Like music! When the twins and I were in Inverness in July of '07 we saw a traditional folk band called Shiehallion. They blew my socks off. Just three guys...one on the pipes, one on the accordion and the front man, Kenny Jamieson. Kenny plays the acoustic guitar and the bodhran and is the sole singer in the group. He has a powerful voice that, in my opinion, is so perfectly suited for the music he sings. Songs about Scottish battles and patriots, songs about home and identity and cultural pride. I bought a compilation CD that night of a variety of traditional artists who have played at that venue and I really enjoy the entire CD but my favorite song has always been the song that Kenny sings, called Hush, Hush, about the Highland Clearances. Shiehallion recently released their own CD and Nikki surprised me with a copy of it last month. I have to admit that it's a good thing it's not on vinyl. It would be worn out by now. I listen to it all the time.

Ok, here's where I have to make a confession. Kenny has such a strong and wonderful Scottish accent that my American ears have difficulty understanding what he's singing. Not to be deterred, I have seached out the song lyrics, some from Shiehallion's website, others from different Internet sites. It's funny how, once I know the words, the songs sound so clear to me. I can't imagine how I couldn't have gotten the lyrics just by listening!

The website administrator has put a bunch of live performance videos on YouTube and there is a link to them from the website. Shiehallion does some great rousing songs, too, but the ballads are my favorites.

Here are a couple of samples.





I can't wait to get to Inverness and be able to listen live whenever I want. Student by day, Barfly by night!

Law and Order BFD

I can't believe I found this before Michael did!

Law And Order: BFD from This American Life on Vimeo.

Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!......

How many talk show hosts would hang their dignity out to dry like this?



...and one more



I crack up every time I watch those.

BA (Hons) Scottish History at UHI

I was just surfing the college's website and drooling over the classes for the Scottish History program. I'm sooo excited! Take a peek if you want to see what I'm going to be studying over the next 4 years.

Beltane and Robin Gibb

They really have nothing to do with one another except that today is May 1st - Beltane and I saw Robin Gibb (a real live Bee Gee!) at Luisenpark this afternoon.

I have a real love-hate relationship with my memory of the Bee Gees. I love their early stuff..."Massachusetts", "I've Gotta Get a Message To You", "How Do You Mend a Broken Heart?" and, of course, "Words". But they are also the poster children for that ugliest of times in American music history...the Disco era. When people think of the music of the '70s they think of Disco. Truth be told, there was great music in the '70s but in 1977 a little movie called Saturday Night Fever and it's soundtrack (sung by the Bee Gees) gave new life to what had been, up to that point, a sidestream of American music - and a dying sidestream at that - Disco. The Disco era took off and the Bee Gees led the charge. Gag me with platform shoes and polyester! Good music was drowned out in the presence of the dance beat. Like I said, I have a real love-hate relationship with my memory of the Bee Gees. So when I saw Robin Gibb at the park today (he's playing a concert here in Mannheim on Sunday night) I didn't know whether to stalk him and ask for an autograph or cuss him out for his part in running good music off the radio when I was 20 years old. In the end I just left him and his companoin to their park exploration and continued on with my own.

Luisenpark was alive with people today. May 1st is a public holiday. I'm not sure what the German name for today is but in the States we just call it May Day, a day to recognize the changing of the seasons. Many cultures have some sort of deeply rooted historical celebration of Spring and the coming year. For the ancient Celts it was Beltane, a time when they celebrated the fertility of the coming year and believed that the "door" between the earthly world and the spirit world opened.

In Irish mythology, the beginning of the summer season for the Tuatha Dé Danann and the Milesians started at Bealtaine. Great bonfires would mark a time of purification and transition, heralding in the season in the hope of a good harvest later in the year, and were accompanied with ritual acts to protect the people from any harm by Otherworldly spirits, such as the Aos Sí. Like the festival of Samhain, opposite Beltane on October 31 Beltane was also a time when the Otherworld was seen as particularly close at hand.

Early Gaelic sources from around the 10th century state that the druids of the community would create a need-fire on top of a hill on this day and drive the village's cattle through the fires to purify them and bring luck (Eadar dà theine Bhealltainn in Scottish Gaelic, 'Between two fires of Beltane'). This term is also found in Irish and is used as a turn of phrase to describe a situation which is difficult to escape from. In Scotland, boughs of juniper were sometimes thrown on the fires to add an additional element of purification and blessing to the smoke. People would also pass between the two fires to purify themselves. This was echoed throughout history after Christianization, with lay people instead of Druid priests creating the need-fire. The festival persisted widely up until the 1950s, and in some places the celebration of Beltane continues today.

The largest Beltane celebration takes place in Edinburgh, Scotland. One more thing to add to my calender next year!

I Am Grateful For This Past Year

A year ago today, I was uncertain about what the future held for me. The only thing I was sure about was that I was having surgery that morning to remove a grapefruit sized tumor from my right ovary. Was it benign or was it ovarian cancer? Would I be able to carry on with my Journey to the Highlands or would I first have to journey through that horrible world of radiation and chemotherapy. And if the second was my destiny, would I come out the other side victorious and healed or would I not make it to the other side at all? I was scared yet somehow still unbelieving. It just didn't seem possible that this could be happening to me...but it was. The surgeon was a gynecological oncologist and that was my name on his schedule that morning.

I thought about my children. They are the light of my life and there was so much life for us still to share. I thought about my dream of moving to Scotland. So close but suddenly so tenuous. I had shed tears of fear, let my mind wander to the scariest places and played the what if game.

I had given the tumor a title to make it a little less scary. I called it my little invader. Chief Engineer Scott to Captain James T. Kirk: "Captain, we have an invader!" Then you would see several nameless crew members running through the corridors of the Enterprise to confront and capture the invader. I was the mother ship and I had my own invader. The doctor and his surgical team were about to storm my corridors to confront and capture the enemy (stupid, I know, but it helped). As I sat there on the bed, in my hospital gown, waiting to be wheeled away, I wasn't dreading the surgery. I wanted to get it over with and get on to the next step...whatever that next step turned out to be.

The next three days in the hospital weren't a lot of fun. This was the 5th time in my life I had had some kind of abdominal surgery. You don't realize how much you use those muscles until after you've been cut open. Those core stomach muscles are an integral part of every movement your body makes. Add to that one of my infamous migraine headaches and the whole experience was pretty ugly. Nikki was my angel. She had flown in from Germany and stayed 10 days with me. She helped me in and out of bed and to the bathroom; she cagoled me into eating and even kept up my blog.

As crappy as it was, though, it wasn't as crappy as it could have been. The pathology tests came back... and the tumor was benign. All I had to do was recuperate from the surgery. My future would not include chemotherapy, radiation, hair loss and cancer doctors....

As I look back on last summer, I think about how different it could have been. As it was, though, it was a wonderful summer. I traveled to Seattle, to Colorado, to Germany and to the Caribbean. I spent several weekends throughout the summer with Paul in Virginia and I moved back to Germany in October.

Living in Germany again has been an unexpected gift. So different from the last time. Not better or worse, just a different kind of experience. I spent a month in Berlin learning to be an English language teacher and made some wonderful friends there. I love my little apt here in Mannheim. I rent from Barbara and Peter who live downstairs and who have become friends. They invite me for Sunday lunch on a regular basis and we've spent several lovely afternoons hiking through the local forests together. I teach on Tues, Wed and Thurs. What a great job! It certainly doesn't feel like work. My students are great and are all very motivated. And I've become a regular visitor to Luisenpark. It's just beautiful in the Spring and is the perfect place for my walks.

The best part of living here, though, is being able to spend time with Nikki. She called the other day and said, "Hey Mom, I need to return those shoes this afternoon. Wanna meet me at Paradeplatz?" So we met up downtown and returned her shoes. We also went to the post office and the bank. Then we went to a cafe that we had discovered a few weeks ago where they have these wonderful salads. After that she went to her French class and I went to the grocery store. It's just being able to do the little things together that we are both enjoying so much.

Bert was gone last weekend so Nikki and I went to check out McClaren's Irish Pub on Thursday night. She slept at my place that night and the next morning we decided, on the spur of the moment, to go to Strasbourgh for the day. It's only about an hour and a half away by train and I hadn't been there since the last time I lived here. Nikki had never been but had really been wanting to check it out. So off we went! The weather was gorgeous and we had such a good time. We had breakfast on the train and played tourist once we arrived. We did the self guided tour around the Altstadt that the Tourist Information lady recommended, we climbed the cathedral, shopped and had dinner at an outdoor cafe. While we were eating, a summer shower popped up and caught all the shoppers by surprise. We watched them all scramble for cover as we sat there under the awning dry and comfy. On the train on the way home Nikki and I were sharing the earbuds to my iPod to listen to Shiehallion, a traditional Scottish band from Inverness. I started laughing. "Nik, do realize that we are two Americans, on a train in Germany, listening to Scottish music?" "On our way back from France!" she added. The smiles were pretty big. Travel will never get old to either one of us.

As I said, I am so grateful for this past year. And now I'm planning my long awaited move to Scotland......

What I Love Most About My MacBook

When I got my first laptop at the end of 2007 I decided to leave Windows and venture into the world of Macintosh. I've seldom regretted that decision. Yes, there is the occasional inconvenience when this or that whatever isn't compatible with a Mac but for the great majority of the time owning a MacBook has been a dream.

I could go into all the differences between a Mac and Windows and how easy it was to learn the OSX operating system and the user interface (I hope I'm using the right terminology) but if you own a Mac you already know all that stuff and if you don't own a Mac, you don't care. Truth be told, I get a little nervous when I have to use Windows now. I'm so used to what I have that Windows has become a bit foreign to me.

All that aside, though, what I really love the most about Mac Dubh ( that's it's name...pronounced "McDoo", Gaelic for son of the black one) is the magnetic power cord. You see, Mac Dubh doesn't sit stationary on a desk. He sits on my lap, or on the couch, or on the coffee table, or wherever. So the power cord is all over the place and I can't tell you how many times over the last year and a half that I have caught it with my foot as I get up to walk away. If that little power cord were securely attached I would have killed Mac Dubh a hundred times over by now. But, as it is, when klutzy me can't lift my foot high enough to avoid the cord, it just pops right off and my little black MacBook feels nary a jolt.

I have no idea who, at Apple, came up with the idea of a magnetically attached power cord but what a fabulous feature. If it has saved my laptop so many times, then I can't be the only MacBook owner out there who has silently thanked that anonymous person, either just before or just after calling myself a dork for catching the cord....again.

Oh yeah, and Mac Dubh says thanks, too!

Craig Reads My Email

This actually happened about 3 months ago, but I was preoccupied with getting ready to leave for Berlin that week and didn't get around to posting it. Craig gets about 1000 emails a day and out of those his staff pick out a bunch that they think he might like. Then he goes through them and chooses the 3 or 4 that he likes the best. It's kind of a game with his regular viewers to see who can write an email that Craig will choose to read on the show. I have to admit I was pretty jazzed when he picked mine. I don't even mind that he mispronounced Mannheim.

Beauty Comes In Many Packages

The embed for this video has been disabled on youtube, but please, copy/paste it into your browser. It brought tears to my eyes. And she's a Scot!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9lp0IWv8QZY

Hallowed Ground

I posted this last year and I'll probably post it again on this day next year. The Battle of Culloden is one of the most important events in Scottish history....

The date was the 16th of April, 1746, but the story began in 1603 when King James VI of Scotland (the only child of Mary Queen of Scots and heir of the Stuart Dynasty) ascended to the throne of England upon the death of his third cousin, Queen Elizabeth. He then became James I of England as well as James VI of Scotland, uniting the two countries under continuing Protestant rule.

The crown passed through the Stuart descendants, a mixed bag of Catholics and Protestants, for about 100 years until the Settlement Act of 1701. This Act prevented James III, the great grandson of James I from claiming the British crown in 1714 because he was Catholic. The next nearest Protestant claimant to the throne was a German from Hanover. Thus began the Hanovarian Dynasty of George I and the struggle of the Jacobites (from the Latin for James) to return the throne to the Catholic Stuart Dynasty. After a failed attempt from France by James III himself in 1715, the cause was passed to his son Charles Edward Stuart, known also as Bonnie Prince Charlie.

In 1745 Prince Charles made his move. He landed in Scotland, gathering his forces predominately from the Highlands and swept through the country on a wave of national pride coming within striking distance of London itself. Through a series of bad command decisions, though, the Highlanders eventually found themselves, on Culloden Moor, exhausted and facing the Hanovarian forces who were well rested and under the sharp command of the Duke of Cumberland, the younger son of King George II. They were outnumbered 9000 to 5000.

It was a slaughter that lasted last than an hour. Survivors were given "no quarter" and the dead were buried by the local citizens. There were too many for individual graves so the bodies were interred in mass graves according to their clan. The clan stones still stand on Culloden Moor to this day. Jacobite sympathizers were hunted down over the coming months, many of them killed or taken prisoner to be executed or transported to the colonies in America. The wearing of kilts and clan tartan were outlawed as well as the playing or possession of the bagpipes, considered not a musical instrument but an instrument of war. The Highland clan way of life that had flourished for 600 years was exterminated.


Clan stones on the moor

A visit to the Memorial at Culloden, today, feels more like a pilgrimage to those who love the Scottish Highlands and her rich history. It truly is hallowed ground. Quiet contemplation in front of each of the Clan stones (many with freshly laid flowers), looking to the top of the Memorial with it's inscription to the fallen Highlanders and imagining the ancient way of life that was crushed on that fateful day is sure to move all but the most hardened of hearts. I encourage all who visit to walk the battlelines. Begin at the line of red flag poles that represent the place where the Hanovarian troops were positioned. Look across the Moor to the blue line of the Highlanders. Then walk to the other side and look back across. Look at how boggy and uneven the ground is and try to imagine the physical struggle and confusion of a battle in such a setting. I was overwhelmed with a feeling of reverence and respect for the men who had died in the very field where we were standing. I do not exagerate when I say that we could very nearly feel their presence all around us.....

Viva La Feet!

The weather has been just beautiful lately. Spring is definitely here. But I really haven't had a chance to get out and enjoy it until yesterday. I took on a project from Conny, who is doing her PhD at the university in Berlin. She has done some interviews that she needs transcribed from audio and doesn't have the time to do it herself so she's paying me to do it. It's really tedious, boring and time consuming but the money at the end will be nice to see. I spent the better part of last week working on it and decided yesterday that I needed a break and also needed to get outside. So I put on my walking shoes. I've gotten out of the habit of my daily walks since I got here and now that the weather has gotten so nice I plan to make them a priority again.

Nikki lives in Ludwigshafen and I live in Mannheim. The two cities are only separated by the Rhein river. Then there is the Neckar which branches off the Rhein, runs through Mannheim and off to the southeast (actually I think it comes from the SE and runs into the Rhein at Mannheim). So riverside walking/biking paths are in abundance around here. They are quite pretty, well maintained and very popular. I started my walk yesterday along the Neckar and ended up several miles later in a little town called Neckarhausen. By the time I got back to my starting point I had covered about 9.5 miles and was thoroughly pooped, but in a good way.

Today I decided to go to Luisenpark for my walk. I haven't been there since Nikki and I went last October. The park is really big with outdoor cafes, fountains, boat rides, flower gardens bursting with color, several playgrounds bursting with children, large open grassy areas and endless paths that meander through it all. There is something about walking through a park on a beautiful day with an ice cream cone in your hand that just makes you feel so carefree. I don't think I walked 9 miles today but, even so, I covered a good bit of ground and felt very satisfied by the time I left the park and caught the Strassenbahn home.

I'm not sure which I enjoyed more...the river or the park. Either way, though, I have really missed my walks. I've gone meandering through the forests and the vineyards with Nikki and Bert and various other people several times since I got to Germany but those excursions have a different feel to them. They are fun and very social and usually consume the whole afternoon. On the other hand my daily walks are solitary, only take a few hours and seem to be my way of staying in touch with myself. I don't power walk; I just walk. I think it's my form of meditation. I feel better mentally and physically when I walk regularly. I had a gym membership for a while several years ago but I finally realized that it caused me more stress than it relieved. I had to force myself to go and felt guilty when I didn't! I much prefer to just put on my tennis shoes, grab my iPod and step out the front door. I don't have to make myself do it. I don't find excuses to avoid doing it and it's a whole lot cheaper than the gym!

He Just Cracks Me Up!

The Declaration of Arbroath

Anybody who saw the movie Braveheart is familiar with the Scottish patriot William Wallace. After Wallace's execution in 1305 by King Edward I of England the Scottish people rallied around their King, known as Robert the Bruce, who continued the struggle against Edward's son and English domination.

Having soundly defeated King Edward II at the Battle of Bannockburn after nearly 20 years of war, King Robert the Bruce and the Scottish people might have reasonably hoped to be left in peace. But the English king did not give up so easily and the Scottish Wars of Independence continued. In the propaganda war, the Scots were at a disadvantage in relation to the influential power of the Pope in Rome - he was more interested in gaining support for another Crusade to the Holy Land from the English king. The Pope had excommunicated Robert the Bruce, not unreasonably, following Bruce's murder of a rival to the throne on the altar steps of a Franciscan priory. But prompted by the English king, the Pope also excommunicated all the people of Scotland.

The Declaration of Arbroath (sometimes called the Declaration of Independence) was Scotland's response to the excommunication. It is one of the great icons of Scotland and is in the form of a letter (in Latin) to the Pope from eight earls and 31 barons of Scotland asking him in rousing terms to acknowledge Scotland as an independent nation and to reject the claims of the English king. The Declaration was ahead of its time as it sets out that the king (previously regarded as appointed by God) could be driven out if he did not uphold the freedom of the country. It later became a model for the American Declaration of Independence.

It sets out the long history of Scotland as an independent state and cleverly tries to persuade the Pope of the legitimacy of Scotland's case. It's most famous and most quoted passage is:

"For so long as there shall but one hundred of us remain alive we will never give consent to subject ourselves to the dominion of the English. For it is not glory, it is not riches, neither is it honours, but it is liberty alone that we fight and contend for, which no honest man will lose but with his life."

The Declaration of Arbroath is more correctly entitled "Letter of Barons of Scotland to Pope John XXII". It is dated 6 April, 1320. While the original Declaration was delivered to the Pope, a contemporary copy is held in Register House, Edinburgh. The translation below of the full text is based on one published in 1689.

1320 Letter of Barons of Scotland to Pope John XXII (Declaration of Arbroath)

To our most Holy Father in Christ, and our Lord, John, by Divine Providence chief Bishop of the most holy Roman and Universal Church, your humble and devoted sons: Duncan Earl of Fife, Thomas Randolph Earl of Moray, Lord of Man and Annandale, Patrick of Dunbar, Earl of March, Malise Earl of Strathearn, Malcolm Earl of Lennox, Wilham Earl of Ross, Magnus Earl of Caithness and Orkney, William Earl of Sutherland, Walter, Steward of Scotland, Wilham of Soulis, Butler of Scotland, James Lord of Douglas, Roger of Mowbray, David Lord of Brechin, David of Graham, Ingelram of Umfravil, John of Menteith, Guardian of the earldom of Menteith, Alexander Fraser, Gilbert of Hay, Constable of Scotland, Robert of Keith, Marischal of Scotland, Henry of St Clair, John of Graham, David of Lindsay, William Oliphant, Patrick of Graham, John of Fenton, William of Abernethy, David of Wemyss, William Muschet, Fergus of Ardrossan, Eustace of Maxwell, William of Ramsay, William Mowat, Allan of Moray, Donald Campbell, John Cambrun, Reginald le Cheyne, Alexander of Seton, Andrew of Leslie, Alexander of Straton, and the rest of the barons and freeholders, and whole community, of the kingdom of Scotland, send all manner of filial reverence, with devout kisses of your blessed and happy feet.

Most holy Father and Lord, we know and gather from ancient acts and records, that in every famous nation this of Scotland hath been celebrated with many praises: This nation having come from Scythia the greater, through the Tuscan Sea and the Hercules Pillars, and having for many ages taken its residence in Spain in the midst of a most fierce people, could never be brought in subjection by any people, how barbarous soever: And having removed from these parts, above 1,200 years after the coming of the Israelites out of Egypt, did by many victories and much toil obtain these parts in the West which they still possess, having expelled the Britons and entirely rooted out the Picts, notwithstanding of the frequent assaults and invasions they met with from the Norwegians, Danes, and English; And these parts and possessions they have always retained free from all manner of servitude and subjection, as ancient histories do witness.

This kingdom hath been governed by an uninterrupted succession of 113 kings, all of our own native and royal stock, without the intervening of any stranger.

The true nobility and merits of those princes and people are very remarkable, from this one consideration (though there were no other evidence for it) that the King of Kings, the Lord Jesus Christ, after His Passion and Resurrection, honoured them as it were the first (though living in the outmost ends of the earth) with a call to His most Holy Faith: Neither would our Saviour have them confirmed in the Christian Faith by any other instrument than His own first Apostle in calling (though in rank the second or third) St Andrew, the most worthy brother of the Blessed Peter, whom He would always have to be over us, as our patron or protector.

Upon the weighty consideration of these things our most Holy Fathers, your predecessors, did with many great and singular favours and privileges fence and secure this kingdom and people, as being the peculiar charge and care of the brother of St Peter; so that our nation hath hitherto lived in freedom and quietness, under their protection, till the magnificent King Edward, father to the present King of England, did under the colour of friendship and alliance, or confederacy, with innumerable oppressions infest us, who had in mind no fraud or deceit, at a time when we were without a king or head, and when the people were unacquainted with wars and invasions. It is impossible for any whose own experience hath not informed him to describe, or fully to understand, the injuries, blood and violence, the depredations and fire, the imprisonments of prelates, the burning, slaughter and robbery committed upon holy persons and religious houses, and a vast multitude of other barbarities, which that king executed on this people, without sparing of any sex or age, religion or order of men whatsoever.

But at length it pleased God, who only can heal after wounds, to restore us to liberty, from these innumerable calamities, by our most serene prince, king, and lord Robert, who, for the delivering of his people and his own rightful inheritance from the enemy's hand, did, like another Joshua or Maccabeus, most cheerfully undergo all manner of toil, fatigue, hardship, and hazard. The Divine Providence, the right of succession by the laws and customs of the kingdom (which we will defend till death) and the due and lawful consent and assent of all the people, made him our king and prince. To him we are obliged and resolved to adhere in all things, both upon the account of his right and his own merit, as being the person who hath restored the people's safety in defence of their liberties. But after all, if this prince shall leave these principles he hath so nobly pursued, and consent that we or our kingdom be subjected to the king or people of England, we will immediately endeavour to expel him, as our enemy and as the subverter both of his own and our rights, and we will make another king, who will defend our liberties: For so long as there shall but one hundred of us remain alive we will never give consent to subject ourselves to the dominion of the English. For it is not glory, it is not riches, neither is it honours, but it is liberty alone that we fight and contend for, which no honest man will lose but with his life.

For these reasons, most Reverend Father and Lord, We do with earnest prayers from our bended knees and hearts, beg and entreat Your Holiness that you may be pleased, with a sincere and cordial piety, to consider that with Him whose Vicar on earth you are there is no respect nor distinction of Jew nor Greek, Scots nor English, and that with a tender and fatherly eye you may look upon the calamities and straits brought upon us and the Church of God by the English; and that you may admonish and exhort the king of England (who may well rest satisfied with his own possessions, since that kingdom of old used to be sufficient for seven or more kings) to suffer us to live at peace in that narrow spot of Scotland beyond which we have no habitation, since we desire nothing but our own, and we on our part, as far as we are able with respect to our own condition, shall effectually agree to him in every thing that may procure our quiet.

It is your concernment, Most Holy Father, to interpose in this, when you see how far the violence and barbarity of the pagans is let loose to rage against Christendom for punishing of the sins of the Christians, and how much they daily encroach upon the Christian territories. And it is your interest to notice that there be no ground given for reflecting on your memory, if you should suffer any part of the Church to come under a scandal or eclipse (which we pray God may prevent) during your times. Let it therefore please Your Holiness to exhort the Christian princes not to make the wars betwixt them and their neighbours a pretext for not going to the relief of the Holy Land, since that is not the true cause of the impediment: The truer ground of it is, that they have a much nearer prospect of advantage, and far less opposition, in the subduing of their weaker neighbours. And God (who is ignorant of nothing) knows with how much cheerfulness both our king and we would go thither, if the king of England would leave us in peace, and we do hereby testify and declare it to the Vicar of Christ and to all Christendom.

But if Your Holiness shall be too credulous of the English misrepresentations, and not give firm credit to what we have said, nor desist to favour the English to our destruction, we must believe that the Most High will lay to your charge all the blood, loss of souls, and other calamities that shall follow on either hand, betwixt us and them. Your Holiness in granting our just desires will oblige us in every case where our duty shall require it, to endeavour your satisfaction, as becomes the obedient sons of the Vicar of Christ.

We commit the defence of our cause to Him who is the Sovereign King and Judge, we cast the burden of our cares upon Him, and hope for such an issue as may give strength and courage to us and bring our enemies to nothing. The Most High God long preserve your Serenity and Holiness to His Holy Church.

Given at the Monastery of Arbroath in Scotland, the sixth day of April in the year of Grace 1320, and of our said king's reign the 15th year.

---

Edward Update

I just read the mini-blog that Carie put up about Edward. Chipin helped her raise $435 toward his vet bill and the clinic has a charitable contribution fund that will help with the rest of it. The best news of all is that Edward went home last Monday!

Many happy years together, Carie and Edward!

Edward The Kitty

Edward belongs to a friend of a friend of mine. He swallowed a string that got all tangled in his intestines. He is recovering from major surgery now but the vet bill is huge and Carie, his owner, needs help.

Reviving The Dream

As much as I have enjoyed my time in Germany, as you all know, my goal is and always has been to get to Scotland. I quit my job in Tucson a year and a half ago, sold my house and applied to study Scottish history at The University of the Highlands and Islands in Inverness. They accepted me for the fall of '08 and I planned to use my inheritance to pay for my 4 years of schooling and living in Scotland. But we were unable to sell my dad's house and close the estate in time for me to go last fall. Plan B.... get a deferment from the university and go to Germany for the interim.

It was definitely a good decision to come to Germany. I have connected with cherished memories of living here before, gotten my certification as an English language teacher and started working, and have basked in the sheer joy of being close to Nikki again after missing her for so many months. All of the good things about being here, though, have been tempered by my disappointment in not yet getting to Scotland. I have consciously tried to mentally lock away my dream of a life in the Scottish Highlands and concentrate instead on the unexpected gift of getting to live in Germany for a second time.

Most of the time I do fine but every so often I will find myself listening to Celtic music, or in a conversation with someone from Scotland, or surfing the net and landing on some site or another having to do with Scotland and suddenly I'm just sad. I don't know any other way to explain it other than to say that my heart hurts. My yearning has not faded with time or been lessened by diversion. But I believe that everything happens for reason and I continually remind myself that when the time is right it will happen. Don't waste the gift of today by looking only for what will come tomorrow. It works most of the time.

Then....I got an email from my aunt and uncle the other day. My Aunt Carmen is handling my dad's estate which includes the sale of his house. After 16 months on the market the house has finally sold and the estate will be finalized next week.

I think it has taken me a few days to actually absorb the news. Suddenly my dream is within reach. I can go to Scotland this year! I can move to the Highlands and immerse myself in the study of Scottish history for the next 4 years. I can go hiking in The Great Glen; I can hang out at that cool little pub in Inverness; I can visit the Orkney Islands and go hiking on Hoy anytime I want to; I can go to the Edinburgh International Festival and I'll be in Inverness for the Highland Games this year...and next year and the year after that and the year after that! I'll eat haggis and drink single malt whisky (I'm not even sure what single malt is but I'm gonna drink it!) I'll celebrate Burns Day and learn to speak English in a way that my friends and family won't understand. I can go back to the memorial at Culloden Moor and see my stone on the Visitor's Center Walk. I'll learn all the words (not just the chorus) to my favorite traditional Scottish songs and sing along with the band, and when asked, I'll be able to say, "No, I'm not a tourist. I live here."!

A Great Weekend

I just had the loveliest weekend.

This was the final weekend of the Six Nations Rugby Tournament. The last three games were played back to back on Saturday so Nikki and I went to Murphy's Law Irish Pub to watch the first game with some friends, all of whom belong to the same expat group. After the first match we all hopped the train to watch the second and third matches at another pub in Heidelberg. I only just started watching rugby a few weeks ago but I've discovered that I really like it. The final game on Saturday was between Ireland and Wales to determine the league champions. Ireland won by a hair. It was a very exciting match.

Saturday night was also what is called Long Night at the Museum. The museums in Heidelberg, Mannheim and Ludwigshafen were all open until about 2am with special exhibits and pricing. It's quite festive and very popular. So after the rugby match about seven of us headed off to see the Body Worlds exhibition. I missed it in Phoenix and again in Pittsburgh so I'm glad I finally got to see it in Heidelberg. It was pretty cool. From there we took the train back to Mannheim to see an exhibition on the 1914 Shackleton expedition to Antarctica. By the time we emerged it was 12:30. The festivities were still in full swing and there was a lot more we could have seen but at this point we decided to call it a night. Bert was on a weekend hiking trip with a couple of friends so Nikki decided to sleep at my place. We tumbled into bed about 1:30 am.

On Sunday we met up with Clemens, Linda and Chrissie in a little town called Forst for a very unique celebration of Spring. Here is the official description:

Forst Hanselfingerhut

Forster Hansel Fingerhut

The village of Forst, well-known for its excellent wineries, is located on the German Wine Route on the slopes of the Haardt. On every Mid-Lent Sunday, this beautiful setting is used for the “Hanselfingerhut Spiel”, a special summer play to cheerfully drive out the winter.

The play has been performed since more than 200 years as historical documents mention it as early as 1721. Originating from immigrants from Switzerland and Upper Germany, the dramatic play has mixed with the local rituals to drive out the winter. The most lively and famous of the plays is performed in the wine village of Forst. Although the play looks far from extravagant to the outsider, it is still profound. In a literal sense, it truly is a people’s play that is spiced up with humor and originality. The play is based on the old Germanic idea of summer battling the winter.

The play is divided into four scenes and features six roles. The village road serves as the stage on which the play takes place. The first scene shows the fight between summer and winter for which purpose both actors are in small conical houses made from slats and poles. While the house of the winter is clothed in straw and crowned with a straw cross, the house of the Summer is covered with ivy and decorated with a little blue-and-white flags. Both houses have a peephole at head height so that the ‘warriors’ inside the houses are able to fight properly with their wooden sabers. After both warriors have carried their small houses down the village road and presented their respective advantages, the fight eventually starts and summer emerges as the winner.

In the second scene, the Henrich-Fähnrich appears, who resembles an officer cadet of the former landsknechts and who has the judicial authority. Henrich-Fähnrich decides on who has won the fight between summer and winter.

The main character of the summer play, the Hanselfingerhut, enters in the third scene. With ragged clothes and a sooty, oily face, he is holding a bale of soot in his hand. His look is meant to represent a vagabond who has squandered everything he owned. Nevertheless, he always feels like playing merry tricks on people and teasing young, beautiful girls. While he sings his small piece, he walks back and forth within the 5m distance between the two houses of Winter and Summer. At the end of his piece, he tries to catch one of the girls in the crowd, to press his black brand on her face with a kiss.

In the fourth scene, the Hanselfingerhut, who has become very weary in the meantime, is shaved by the barber and given inner relief by bloodletting from the toe. However, as the treatment is too strong, the Hanselfingerhut faints. While all the other characters surround him and lament, he eventually wakes up again after the Henrich-Fähnrich tickles his ribs with his saber. Nudelgret comes running and revives him with fresh pretzels.

So what happens is that these two guys, one wearing a winter cone (kind of like a portable teepee) and the other wearing a summer cone take turns taunting each other for about 5 minutes and eventually poke out their little wooden swords from their peepholes and fight. The 'judge' decides the winner (always summer). Then the Hanselfingerhut shows up ( he's the guy in the above photo who is dressed in rags and covered in black oily paint) for his part in the play which takes place in the street between the two 'Seasons'.

When the play is finished the entire production, including the crowd of onlookers, proceeds down the street and the play is performed all over again. They do this about four times. Part of the fun, though, is that 'Nudelgret', who is supposed to be a pretty girl, is a man dressed in silly 'pretty maid' clothes complete with bloomers, comical face makeup and braids. She sells her pretzels to people in the crowd when she's not performing. The Hanselfingerhut is also very busy in between his performances. He spends his 'off-stage' time running around kissing all the women. So by the end of the festivities all of the women and girls in the crowd have big black kiss marks on their cheeks.

The afternoon culminates with food and drink and the setting on fire and burning of another conical representation of winter in the town square. It's all great fun and, as Nikki pointed out, very pagen. A fabulous way to bid farewell to Winter and welcome the return of Spring!

Wake Up Little Blog...

I've been home from Berlin for 4 and a half weeks and my poor blog has been more dormant during this past month than it was while I was gone! What have I been doing? I was only without an internet connection for about 5 days so that's not an excuse!

Well, I've been putting together a CV and rounding up work. So far I have 2 contracts. I'm teaching a class of 7 intermediate learners at BASF. They all work in one of the logistics offices and want to improve their English so they can echange emails and conduct phone conversations more effectively with their English speaking customers. We meet once a week on Thursday afternoons.

My other contract is with a family who is moving to the States in June. They have two boys (ages 10 and 12) and want the boys to have some tutoring before they go. I'm going to spend an hour and a half with them on Wednesday afternoons, starting tomorrow.

So right now I only have 2 and a half hours of work each week but I have a few other leads. Hopefully I'll have more contracts soon.

I'm loving my little apartment. There are 3 apts in the house. I have the top floor apt just below the attic so all of my outside walls slant inward. It feels like a little hobbit house. But it's got plenty of room for Lucy and me. She has settled in nicely. Poor old thing, I've moved her 3 times in the last year. She's 18 and a half years old now. I'll be lucky if she makes it to 19. Her last checkup a few weeks ago showed that her kidneys are starting to go. But her blood glucose level is fine so the kidney thing is not due to her diabetes. It's just old age. She can't get up on the bed or the couch by herself anymore, either. Her legs aren't strong enough to jump. So she "mreep"s at me and I have to reach down and help her up. We do this about 20 times a day. I even have to wipe her face after she eats! Not to mention having to put down puppy pee pads in front of her litter box because she doesn't always get her ass all the way in. And I worry about her when I'm gone for too many hours. It's kind of like taking care of an old person, I guess. But I don't mind. As long as she is comfortable and not in any pain I'll do what needs to be done.

Well, this post hasn't exactly been a glowing example of creative writing but it's late and I just wanted to check in with y'all.

BTW....Happy St Paddy's Day everyone!

No Internet!

I feel like my right arm has been amputated. I lost my internet connection last Thursday evening. Peter and Barbara (the house owners) have a wireless router downstairs that, up until a few days ago, worked flawlessly for me. Now, for some reason, it's on the fritz. Peter says he thinks he might have to buy a new one. So I just have to wait. In the meantime, I'm going crazy!

I brought my laptop to Nikki's place this morning so I could get online. I'm trying to remember everything I wanted to do or send or check on but I know as soon as I get home I'll think of something I forgot.

I remember the days when we had no internet or cell phones or home printers; we all did just fine. Now, though, I'm absolutely lost without any one of them...

CELTA Jan-Feb 2009

I'm back from my training in Berlin and looking forward to my new career as an English language teacher. I feel like I should be writing about the program in detail; suffice to say that it was very intensive but I did well. This entry is more about the people I had the privilege of getting to know.
Let me first introduce them....


Teacher trainers:

Dominic
Nationality: British
Age: late 40's?
Our fearless leader.

Helen
Nationality: British
Age: early 40's
This woman can hang!

Gui
Nationality: Australian
Age: early 40's?
A superhero in disguise.


Teacher trainees:

Annakiska
Nationality: American
Age: mid 50's
Good home training.

Kate
Nationality: Irish
Age: 23
My little Irish rose and an honorary North American.

Michael
Nationality: American
Age: mid 30's
Too smooth to be Harry Potter; has a very odd concept of 'squares', though.

Sandra
Nationality: American
Age: late 20's
No feedback on Friday, please!

Brad
Nationality: Australian
Age: early 40's
The best Aussie accent ever and half of the Bradley-Chadley Bridge.

Connie
Nationality: American
Age: 51
me

Tom
Nationality: British
Age: 23
Cute as a bug's ear. I love his 'lovely'!

Chad
Nationality: American
Age: 37
My best buddy and the other half of the Bradley-Chadley Bridge.

Peter
Nationality: British
Age: 58
"Ooohh, Nooo!"

Dan
Nationality: American
Age: 24
'Should have' stayed out of the smoking room.


Annika
Nationality: Swedish
Age: early 20's
NOT from Stockholm!

Charlie
Nationality: British
Age: 22
My kid

Daniel
Nationality: British
Age: 24
A tender heart but still....
f%@&o#f


These are the people I just spent the last month with. I lived with a couple of them, ate with all of them, and partied with most of them. We studied together, laughed our asses off together, ridiculed each other and cheered each other on. The impact they have had on me is immeasurable. I went to Berlin to better myself professionally. Little did I know how my personal life would be enriched. We all have our own stories; different backgrounds, different cultures, rhotic and non-rhotic accents but we share a common bond. Teacher trainers and trainees alike; we are all vagabonds with a love of travel and a thirst to see the world. So often when I talk about the places I've been I feel like people think I'm trying to impress or brag or something. But here was a group of people who, between them, have seen most of the world. We bonded not just because of our shared experience in the CELTA program but because we are all like-minded people. Nobody batted an eye at the fact that, at 50, I quit my job, sold my house and bought a one-way ticket out of the country. My story was not unusual.

I've talked with a few of my classmates over the last couple of days since I returned to Mannheim. We all seem to be feeling the same sense of loss... that of each other. Not only did we spend the last month together learning how to teach English grammar, how to write detailed lesson plans and how to grade our language to the learner, we became friends. I will remember each of them always and there some who have a permanent place in my life.

I learned how to be a teacher in Berlin but the true treasure of this last month is in the faces of these people...


(left to right)
front row: Peter, Annika, Kate, me, Helen, Annakiska and Dan.
back row: Gui, Tom, Charlie, Dominic, Daniel, Brad, Chad and Michael.

Talking Skunks With The Brits In Berlin (C, C, T and D.....I told you this would be the title!)

When I was getting ready to leave for the CELTA program four weeks ago it somehow never crossed my mind that, at some point, I would find myself sitting in some little bar in the Berlin suburb of Kreuzberg with a guy from Tennessee trying to explain the smell of a skunk to three young Brits....at 4 in the morning. But that's where I was and that's what we were doing. Actually, I don't think Charlie and Daniel were listening but Chad and I gave Tom, who has never been (pronounced 'ben' not 'bean' if you're from Tennessee!) to the U.S., this very detailed explanation of what a skunk smells like, how hard it is to get rid of the smell if you've been sprayed and how people just have to comment on the odor anytime they smell it (“Ew, do you smell that?” “Yeah, there's a skunk around somewhere.”).
This was an evening that had started out at a different bar where we had gone to an open mic performance night with several of our other classmates. The event was hosted by a group of expat Americans and Brits living in Berlin, one of whom was also in the CELTA program with us. It was very cool, sitting with friends and beer, listening to whoever wanted to get up on stage perform whatever they wanted to perform. Some people read their own poetry. Some read from the works of well known poets. A few people played guitar and sang. One woman did a monologue from her upcoming one woman show and another read from a short story she had written about spending her summers in India when she was a teenager. A couple of performers left us kind of scratching our heads saying, “Huh? I don't get it.” but overall it was very entertaining and a lot of fun.
When it was over, around 12:30, some of us just weren't ready to call it a night yet so we went in search of someplace to continue our, ahem, intellectual interactions. Well, that and... more beer. We found the beer but somehow the intellectual interactions deteriorated into talk of skunks, Bullshit Bingo, and Chad's knowledge of dirt. It then deteriorated further into to a substantial debate about what exactly does Daniel's recently coined term 'Man and Boy' really mean. Once understanding had been checked with a few concept questions we then moved to the free practice stage of the exercise. That of determining just who in our extended group actually possessed the qualities required to hold the coveted title of Man and Boy. This took a while. Needless to say, the next day we were all feeling a bit below standard.