Back to Life, Back to Reality

There comes a time in all vacations when one must gather one's things, stuff them all into the same bag they came in, and go home.  Sometimes this is a blessed thing, sometimes a needful thing, and sometimes a sad thing.  For me, it is a sad thing.  I will miss my cabin, the silence, the birds at the feeder, the sunsets, and the solitude.  And a needful thing, for waiting at home are my children, my job, and my life all paused for a month, all waiting with bated breath for my return.
Despite the cleaning, packing, checking, lugging of luggage around airports, and the tedious flights home, we do pack up and leave, mostly because the people who own the cabin have rented it to someone else, and frankly because you can't live in vacation land.  Responsibilities await.

Coming home is very much like being dropped into the deep end of the pool during a hurricane.  The life you left for a brief moment starts right up again as your feet leave the airport and your people pick you up.  There is a flurry of conversation, then a tornado of laundry.  And then that languishing bit of packing that never seems to find its way back to where it belongs.  Where did it belong?  Perhaps it can camp out on my dresser until I find time to tuck it into that place where I won't lose it and then it will be lost for all time.  Somewhere between the conversation and the laundry you pass out souvenirs and well past ten in the evening you pass out, sleep like a rock in your own bed again, get up in the morning and go back to work, the experiences and memory of vacation dissolving like the morning mist, and life picks up in the same flurry of activity you left because it was too much and we wonder, did I learn anything from this experience?

Did I learn anything?

Well, one obvious thing we all learn from vacation is that all the stuff you brought with you in that one suitcase has suddenly grown to not fit in that one suitcase despite how you fold and cram it.
Another is: old habits die hard, but newly acquired habits linger.  I have been home for two weeks and still have an inclination to drive on the opposite side of the road, and I have had a terrible time turning off my straight-stick brain, although I haven't accidentally clutched my brake, yet.  It is a sad thing that nobody was able to see how well I learned to drive in Scotland.  My show-off side is rather disappointed.
Really, though, what have I learned?  I need to simplify my life so I can have time for myself on a regular basis.  That sounds so wonderful, doesn't it?  It does.  But what does it mean?  And how do you do such a thing?  I am a responsible adult and need to be responsible.  For me that means I have children to raise (thankfully they are almost grown), I have a responsibility to see them properly educated so I homeschool them, and I have to work so I have money to live, and I also have to spend time in needful Bible study and prayer, which should be a top priority, but is the one thing that always falls to the wayside. All these things demand my time (not to mention an occasional social engagement with my girlfriends, who are very important to my sanity), but they must be in balance in order for me to function and be my best.  Then the question is, how do I say no to some things and say yes to other things?  And how do I prioritize my responsibilities?
UUUGGGHHhhh!  I hate the word prioritize about as much as I hate having to prioritize.  I get uncomfortable flashbacks of junior high and an angry teacher crabbing at me that I seriously have to get my priorities straight.  Well, sorry, Mr Angry Teacher (whose name I have forgotten), but Economics will never be a priority of mine.  Never.  Just never.

OK.  Reality.  Priority number one:  needful Bible study and prayer time.
Priority number two:  homeschooling.  I need to be home in order to homeschool, right?  Duh.
So, priority number three must be work.

Setting priorities is all well and good (they look so tidy on paper and all), but putting them into practice requires another thing I hate and that is saying no.  If I say no to my kids who require my attention, they will be uneducated and upset with me.  A responsibility will go unheeded and that is BAD.  If I say no to work, they rely on me, too, and that responsibility will also be neglected.  If I say no to God, my life goes spiraling down the gurgler,  which nobody wants or needs, especially right after vacation.  So no matter what you pick, someone is unhappy.  If you choose not to pick, then I am unhappy and we're talking the gurgler thing again.  So, here's where I have to get tough, which is another thing I hate doing, because again, it upsets people and we can't have that.
What I have done, then, is cut back my working hours so I can be home to school my children.  I have yet to get a new Bible study, but I have one in mind that I want to get, and I am saying no to the small things that take up bits of my time that can be spent more productively.  The hardest thing to say no to, though, is the time in the evening when both my kids want to talk with me until it is nigh on midnight.  I don't know how to reschedule that so I can have personal time and adequate sleep.  But, I will continue to work on it and keep you posted.  I do have a plan, at least on paper.

An Unexpected Delight

What is it when something catches our eye?  A random chance, a coincident, or a nudge from God?  

I was reading on the couch on this rainy Thursday and the sun suddenly burst forth, which means, in Scotland, it will rain harder.  In my cabin, there are two sets of  french doors.  One facing the valley north which changes its glory moment by moment, and one facing the hill west that the evening sun splashes its beauty upon, lighting up the grass heads in a moment of splendor right before sun sets.  Out the first set of doors, looking into the valley, was the largest rainbow I had ever seen.  So close you could touch it.  So complete you could see where it landed on both ends.  So bright I could see every color as if it were painted on a canvas.  Breathtaking!  

Whenever I see a rainbow, I am reminded of God's promise given to Noah after the global flood in Genesis 9:

12 And God said, This is the token of the covenant which I make between me and you and every living creature that is with you, for perpetual generations:

13 I do set my bow in the cloud, and it shall be for a token of a covenant between me and the earth.

14 And it shall come to pass, when I bring a cloud over the earth, that the bow shall be seen in the cloud:

15 And I will remember my covenant, which is between me and you and every living creature of all flesh; and the waters shall no more become a flood to destroy all flesh.

Not only did God give us a visual reminder we can still see today of His promise never to destroy every living creature on the earth with water again, He was also the one who created light with the property to bend and create a rainbow.  Also did God create rain to refract the light to make a rainbow.  Also did God give us a nudge on the couch to enjoy His rainbow and be reminded of His promise that is still kept to this day.

This is an actual rainbow, not photoshopped, not digitally enhanced.  This is exactly as it appeared.

Life Lessons

One cannot spend a month on foreign soil in a cabin alone without learning some things about themselves and the environment around them, so here are some of the things I have learned from staying in Scotland.

1.  Into every day a little rain shall fall.  Now Scotland is not known for sandy beaches and sunburns.  It is not that kind of vacation destination.  It rains.  It rains a lot.  But rain does not necessarily mean a day inside.  A raincoat makes a rainy day enjoyable and Scottish rain, at least what I have experienced of it, is not a lashing painful thing, nor a giant drowning downpour kind of thing.  It is a gentle thing, ranging from a misty day where the moisture hangs in the air but doesn't really fall, to a thick sprinkle, like the rain showerhead everyone covets, but no one buys.  All of the rain is sprinkles and it always rains hardest when the sun breaks through the clouds.  I have enjoyed many days out in the rain, and have enjoyed many rainy days inside with a cup of cocoa and the windows opened so I could hear and smell the rain as I read a book on the couch.

2.  I can cook.  I had my doubts, and bought some peanut butter just in case.  I have not experienced a lot of cooking success in the past many years of adulthood.  I burn things, and overflow things, and just don't know how to cook things.  I have never made a hamburger patty without cutting it in half in the pan and wondering why the blessed thing won't cook.  Perhaps one must consider outside factors to cooking success.  Like trying to cook with two screaming toddlers hanging off your ankles, or later trying to cook with the TV blaring and three people asking you to come look at something obviously more important than my potatoes boiling over.  Correcting math papers while grilled cheese sandwiches turn hopelessly black in the pan.  What's that smell?  Oh, yes, I was cooking something.  But alone in the quiet of my cabin, I can cook something and it turns out pretty good.  I made lamb chops the other day that were succulent and juicy, not black and jerky-like as usual.  And I didn't leave one empty pan burning on the fire, forgotten in the midst of laundry and teenage drama.

3.  I can overcome.  Fear of asking questions, directions, driving on the wrong side, making mistakes.  Whatever.  I have dealt with it all and have come out the other side much more confident and willing to do things I would consider way to scary to even contemplate much less do.  Go to some guy's house, grab one of his kayaks and launch yourself into the river.  He'll not be home, but he will leave the stuff out for you.  Did I mention he has four thousand sled dogs?  What?!  Are you mad?  I'm supposed to drive up to a stranger's house and take out one of his kayaks with no more directions than his is the only house on the right?  Ok.  I'll give it a try, though I hope the dogs are put away.  Crazy.  And yet, a month ago, I would have passed on the whole idea.  Following directions in Scotland:  go that way until you see a sign for (fill in the blank of a town name too long to read or pronounce) and turn left.  Then go til the road ends and you are there.  Road signs other than town names coming up do not exist.  Not once did I see a sign that said you are on Highway A84.  Or that you are going west on it.  All you get is the next five towns coming up in a long cluster sign right on the corner where you are to turn.  Gosh!  I hope that said Beauly.  Otherwise, I may be going to Bugscuffle or something.

4.  Nothing needs to be done.  I am on vacation.  I am on a stress relieving vacation.  If I want to sit in my cabin for a month and count the deer going by, I can.  If I want to drive for hours, go here or there, arrange a side trip, I can.  Quiet is allowed.  And needed.  Busyness is fun and wanted.  A balance of both is ideal.  Having nobody with you to crab at you about being bored, that is a blessing.

5.  It is okay to feel sad when it is time to go home.  It is not okay once you are home to allow the stressors that drove you to take a month long vacation to continue to drive you.  Something must be done or the vacation served no purpose other than a brief reprieve from the madness.

6.  It is good to be alone.  Alone does not have to be lonely.  I have spent much of my days talking to God, reading, working through a Bible Study, and have not felt lonely.  I enjoy the immense quiet.  It is peaceful and life-giving.

7.  Take a bath, however, and you will not be alone for long.  I am not a lover of the bath, but on rare occasions I will enjoy a bath, with candles in a darkened room, music, and bath salts.  And a soon as the sigh escapes my lips, there are my lovely daughters, age 2 and 4 to help.  Mommy let me wash your feet.  Mommy let me wash your face.  Mommy, mommy, mommy, and then my two year old is in the tub with me.  And why didn't I lock the door?  I don't think that would have deterred them.  Now that my girls are well into their teen years, I can take a bath by myself.  Hot water, bath bomb, candles...text message.  Why me?  Why?  How is it they know?  All the way to Scotland and still no bath without my girls.  I can, however, text without dropping the phone into the tub, so there.

Flora and Fauna

Half the fun of going somewhere else is seeing different wildlife.  Here in Scotland, there is quite a lot of wildlife, different and variated.  I can completely understand the magic of fairy pools, mushroom rings, and fanciful tales of elves and ents after really looking at the beauty growing all around.

I think this is a coal tit

I have seen great gnarled trees draped in old man's beard, tiny mushrooms growing atop green spongy moss, secret streams that trickle through the heather, great lumps of lichen covered rocks thrusting up out of the ground.  I even saw an orange mushroom with white polka dots on it!  I kid you not.  It caught my eye lurking under a fern, and there it was.  I half expected to see a fairy perched atop it.

There is also a wealth of wildlife that comes right up to my door.  I have bird feeders right off my deck and spend hours watching the birds bully one another for a turn at the food.  I have identified, I think, a coal tit, and a woodpecker (they aren't hard to identify), but the other birds that frequents the feeder, I have not been able to identify.  I raise the challenge for anyone out there to enlighten me.




In the evenings the deer come to graze right off my deck.  I have seen five at a time all around my cabin. I have tried to photograph them, but due to the angle of the setting sun, they are usually back lit and don't come in clear shooting through the window.  I don't want to scare them away by opening the door.

this is obviously a woodpecker

The brown one I can't identify

Kayaking Down the River Glass

Kayaking is one of my favorite things I usually don't get to do, so on the rare occasion that the opportunity presents itself, I am of a mind to take gross advantage.  Now I am not a daredevil kayaker.  I do not shoot rapids or launch myself off of cliffs.  My style of kayaking requires no protective headgear.  All I want is a nice day, a kayak and a paddle, and a quiet stretch of water. Peace.  Like a river.

The River Glass runs right at the bottom of the valley out my cabin window and meanders in both directions for a few miles, then joins other things.  I took my kayak on a paddle up river from the Struy Inn (in Struy!) and paddled against the river current and the wind until I reached sight of my cabin and then allowed the wind to blow me back to the landing.  All the way up the river there was a white swan swimming ahead of me, just a speck in the distance, but it kept pace with me.

The wind was gusty and at times was downright fierce.  I paddled like a mad woman, but didn't get anywhere, but had to keep up the effort or get blown back downstream.  Then there were quiet, gentle spots where I cut through the river like glass, paddling with little effort.  At one turn in the river, a herd of cows stood up and stared at me, but for all my efforts I could not get them to moo at me.

Once my arms were reduced to useless noodles and my thumbs were hopelessly blistered, I decided to turn back.  The return journey was all the more enjoyable as I was floating with the current and the wind was at my back.  All in all, I paddled for two hours and I would guess I went two miles, gaging by the road that follows the river.

Every time I stopped to snap a photo, the wind would turn the kayak around and blow me into the river bank.

Finally, Beauly!

Beauly is a little around ten miles from Eagle Brae where I am staying.  The first week I was here, I drove to the Beauly Co-op to pick up a few groceries.  Later, I drove into Beauly to take the train to Inverness...twice.  Never did I actually go all the way into Beauly and look around.

Here, in the middle of nowhere, Beauly is actually a pretty big town.  There is a grocery store of a fair size, a gas station, several eateries, and a community center with free parking.  There is a goodly amount of houses right in town and some apartments.  Lots of B&Bs (tell the truth, you couldn't swing a dead cat and not hit a B&B anywhere you went in Scotland) and a hotel or two.  There are even some fun shops to poke around in, one being an antique shop stuffed full of silver household items.  But right at the end of a line of shops is a small ruined church and graveyard.  It was quite a shame that most of the grave markers had eroded to the point of smoothness, and many monuments in the yard had toppled over.  Still, it was a quiet place in the middle of town, and quite unexpected.  I felt a bit sacrilegious as I took some photos of the more elaborately carved grave markers.
Finished with that, I crossed the street, looking in the correct direction for passing cars, and traipsed down the other side of the street.  I stopped at a cafe and asked if they had any gluten free treats. They did, so I purchased a slice of orange-lemon cake and walked back to the car.  All in all, a fun side trip and I gassed up the car to boot.

Seafood and Squemishness

Ok, we have covered the topic of Minnesota seafood, but I wanted to add a bit more on the subject because I am rather impressed with myself and that doesn't happen very often.  Especially in the kitchen.
Yesterday was Thursday and the seafood truck guy came back with his truckload of seafood.  I ordered another filet of sea trout because it was divine and asked what else he would recommend, considering the list he rattled off struck no center of recognition for me and fish types (there was a yellow something, I don't know...).  He said the best thing on the truck were the prawns.  I think he called them king prawns or some such thing.  I asked how to prepare and cook them and he gave me good and thorough instructions, so I took my bag of prawns and sea trout happily back to my cabin and prepared for dinner.
Prawns.  With their heads on.  Complete with eyeballs...and antenna...and legs.  Oh my.
Step one:  cut off the head.  You cannot see my face right now as I recall just that moment, but rest assured I am grimacing quite severely and  trying not to gag.  I poised the knife above its legs and chop.  OH!!  Oh great googly moogly!  A large spatter of orange goo burst forth from the prawn, its beady black eye looking up at me with disdain.  I swallowed, rinsed the knife, vowed I would not vomit, and continued.
Step two:  remove the legs and shell.  Here is where I have visions of my children's pet hermit crabs crying as I pull off their legs.  I remind myself these things are dead and God gave them to us for food, so they don't feel bad, and I shouldn't feel bad.  I pulled off their legs and the shell attached to it.  Now the fish truck guy said to pinch the tail and the bottom bit of the prawn should squirt out of the bottom, and it did.  That part was fun.
Step three:  rip out the entrails.  Prawns have a black intestinal track running the length of the outside of their body.  You simply slice your knife down the back and flick out the offending black bit.  Yeah, right.  That black bit is sticky and a bit gross and does not want to come out without a fight.  Then I noticed another black stripe on the inside curve of the prawn and cut that out, too.  I rinsed the prawn off in cold water and set it aside.  One down, three to go.  So far I have not thrown up.
On my second try, I did find the sweet spot behind the head to avoid the orange burst of guck.  All four prawns cleaned and ready and no vomiting.  I am rather pleased with myself at this point.  I usually can't cut apart a raw chicken without gagging.  The final test:  can I cook the things and actually eat them now that I have witnessed and participated in their butchering?
I cooked the prawns in a hot pan with butter, salt and pepper, having no garlic to hand, and ate them on a bed of rice.  They were delicious!  They were the most flavorful shrimp-type things I had ever eaten.  It made shrimp from Red Lobster compare to raw rubber bands.  And I like shrimp from Red Lobster...especially the coconut shrimp.
I will say as a final caveat, I did have to concentrate on enjoying the flavor of the prawns while trying not to think about what I just did to keep from gagging.  But I ate them and enjoyed them.

I have purposefully not included photos for the comfort of my readers.