Bonny Scotland is calling again...

Stalker Castle

All day I've been thinking about Scotland.  Dreaming of going back.  Well actually it's more of an intense longing for the gorgeous countryside, the smell, the people, the atmosphere.

I've said for a long time that my dream is to retire and move to Scotland.  But if I'm being honest, that's sort of an "amended" dream.  You know, your real dream is so far outside the realm of what you think is possible, that you alter it somewhat to make it seem more attainable?  Yeah, that.  The real dream would be to figure out something I love to do, and could make a living doing, and move there. Yesterday.  Specifically, Edinburgh.

Don't get me wrong, I love America.  I'm as patriotic as the next guy.  No, I'm probably MORE patriotic than a lot of people.  But the pull I feel from Scotland is just so strong.  It's my roots.  It's where I felt so at home.  It's full of people who look like me, for cryin' out loud!  They are my size, same hair, same pale skin.  They are me.

This morning, my day got started off on such a great note...with gorgeous, professional photography of a castle on the Isle of Mull, which lies off the West coast of Scotland.  I've recently discovered Phil McDermott on Twitter (follow him at @philmacphoto and check out his site, www.philmcdermott.com - you won't be sorry!) and because of the time difference, he tweets the most gorgeous photos when I'm contemplating my first cup of coffee.

As I browse through my photos of my trips to Scotland, two things strike me.  The most glaringly obvious is the fact that I am no photographer.  I have a Panasonic DMC-FX28 LUMIX, 18X optical zoom, 10 mega-pixels. I barely know what any of that means.  And I can tell you I know about 1/10th of what it can really do, which means I should probably get around to reading the manual - if I ever find it again. I can't imagine what a "real" camera would do!  Seeing Phil's photos makes it even more obvious to me that I should really try to learn something about using my own camera.  I was feeling pretty cocky about some of the pictures I took, given that my friend took worse pictures than I did (sorry Pam, you know I love you!) and then I saw Phil's.  So I'm going to try harder.  I'm not stupid and I have an artistic eye so there's no excuse for not trying.

The second thing that struck me as I was browsing through my photos was that I took them.  Me.  I was RIGHT THERE!  In Scotland!  I remember each and every shot and what it felt like to be there.  So, to me, they're priceless, regardless of quality.

And those quirky shots that Pam took?  I really love them.  She was with me on my second trip and it couldn't have been better.  Well, I wouldn't have minded if my man wanted to go, but there's some quote about pigs flying that comes to mind. A traveler, he ain't.

I have a fantastic sense of direction.  Really, you can't get me lost.  And I can read a map like nobody's business.  She's left-handed (remember, everything about driving there is backwards to the Yanks,) a great driver and not easily intimidated. Perfect combination.  So we rented a car at the airport in Edinburgh and drove all over Scotland.  Well as far as a week would let us go anyway. It was glorious!  The only disappointing thing was that we didn't have more time.

Cawdor Castle

One of my favorite nights was in Dornie.  We'd traveled too far to make it back to Edinburgh at a decent hour, so we soldiered on from Cawdor Castle in Nairn to Dornie to see Eilean Donan Castle, one of the most beautiful castles in Scotland.  The day had already been fabulous, what with Cawdor castle being "my castle."  Apparently my ancestors had quite a scuffle over it once upon a time.  The guide and I became fast friends and chatted about old movie stars of the '40s and how I'd "just missed" one of them.  He was still flying high over meeting her.  Of course her name escapes me at the moment.  We ate a great dessert and had real coffee (to Scots, that means "drip" or "brewed" coffee and usually elicits a look of disgust) and a few laughs. Perfection.

In Dornie, we stayed at a little hotel, the Dornie Hotel, which was old and tattered, but full of charm and character and people who couldn't have been nicer.  We ate at the only restaurant there, which conveniently happened to be at the hotel, where the service was great.  Breakfast was served with actual drinkable coffee in a French Press and real, home-churned, fresh butter and jams.  Quaint, comfortable, welcoming, picture-perfect.

Eilean Donan

When we arrived, Eilean Donan was closing up and it had been raining most of the afternoon and evening, so the clouds provided an impressive backdrop to the castle silhouette as darkness approached.  After dinner, I walked around the town, which took all of about 5 minutes if you include the couple of minutes I stopped to greet dogs and masters out on their evening walk..  I lingered in the mist, just staring at the castle lit up in all its glory.  I tried to take a shot of it, but I hadn't yet discovered how to do that with my camera.  Night setting?  Who knew?  It's a shame, too, because that would have been some shot.

When I close my eyes, I can almost feel myself breathing in the mist of the evening and tasting that fresh butter on the piping hot homemade croissants. Heavenly.

Yes, I can see I'm going to have to start planning another trip soon.  Maybe this time, I will plan far enough ahead to actually see the military tattoo at Edinburgh Castle!  And I would be too upset if Sean Connery just happened to be there, too. *wink*

Edinburgh Castle

Can We Talk?

Max and Joan
photo credit: AP/MW

I like to laugh.  No.  I LOVE to laugh.

A lot of people make me laugh.  Sometimes it's the Red Skelton kind of humor that grabs me...clean, honest, funny.  Other times, my inner 12 year old boy craves the stupid humor of South Park. I like Bill Engvall and Ron White and Larry the Cable Guy as well as I like any of the comedians out there.  And there's no funnier man on the planet than Craig Ferguson.  Which I may have mentioned before. *grin*

But you know who always makes me laugh?  To the core?  Joan Rivers. There are a lot of comedians out there who can get too nasty, even for me.  They don't do "nasty" right.  They need to take a lesson from Joan Rivers.  She can do nasty and it's still FUNNY. It's not nasty for the sake of being nasty.  It's just gut-busting funny.  Because it's real.  SHE is real.  She's naturally funny, on stage and off. She's fearless!

But that's not even what I like about her most.  Until she appeared on The Celebrity Apprentice (Season 8, 2009-2010, which, by the way she WON) I had underestimated her.  She was just another one of the many comedians out there, barely on my radar, despite being around for so long.  No, what I like about her most is her work ethic and her intelligence.

Did I just say that?  Yes, yes I did.  The woman is smart. If you don't believe me, just pull up Season 8 of Celebrity Apprentice on Hulu and watch her.  It didn't matter what the task was, she threw herself into it 100%, whether it was slinging hash or scrubbing toilets.  She wasn't "above" any of it.  She decided what needed to be done and rolled up her sleeves and just DID IT.  And she had no patience for slackers, fools or prima donnas.  At 76 years old, she worked circles around everyone else.  Say what you will about The Donald, but he's no dummy.  She won the whole thing!

Nevermind her 50+ years in the business.  Nevermind her many accomplishments in live stand-up, TV, movies, radio, books and yes, even cartoons - just on street smarts alone, she's brilliant.  And the cherry on top?  She has a BA in English lit. Betcha didn't know THAT.

She acts tough, well, she IS tough.  Barbara Stanwyck would have probably called her a "tough old broad." But she's also nice.  Joan Rivers?  Nice?  Yes.  I'm not privileged enough to be in her circle of friends, but I have zero doubt that if you are lucky enough to be her friend, there's nothing she wouldn't do for you.  And she loves dogs.  Gotta love a person who loves dogs.

Moral of the story?  Well my stories don't usually have a moral.  But if I had to pick one for Joan?  Never never never underestimate a tough old broad from Brooklyn.

Daylight Savings Time BITES

I read somewhere that  a wise Indian once said that ONLY the white man would think that he could cut the end off of a rug and then sew it on the other end and the rug would be longer....


I can't be the only one really ticked off every year when they unceremoniously RIP that precious hour of sleep from me, can I?


So I googled daylightsavingstimesucks.  Nope, I'm not the only one!


I was going to write a long rant about why it's stupid, but John J. Miller did it so well, I will just send you to him.  It's a great article! 


READ IT!


PS:  I WANT MY HOUR BACK!

Perspectives

The earthquake/tsunami news kept most of us riveted to the news all day yesterday.  We googled and we tweeted.  We cried and we prayed.

Today, those of us who weren't directly affected, mainly checked in with our various methods for "the recap."  Which is normal.  If you're not with the Red Cross or the news media, you basically went on with your life.  Again, normal.  Doesn't make us bad people.  Other than donating our time or our money, there really isn't anything we can do.  It stays on our minds for a day or two and we move on.

Reminds me of some song lyrics..."I guess the world didn't stop for my broken heart..."  and "...and this ol' world will keep on turnin'..."  No it doesn't stop.  Nor should it.

Every person has a different perspective on every event.  And every person's perspective can change in a split second.  A photo I saw yesterday afternoon really struck me.  It was of two young women who'd been evacuated from one of the office buildings in Tokyo. Being the handbag lover that I am, the first thing I noticed were the handbags they were carrying. One was a Louis Vuitton Monogrammed Alma and the other was an Hermes 31 cm. black Bolide with gold hardware. And then I saw the stricken, dazed, confused look on their faces and the sadness in their eyes and I suddenly felt horribly guilty for even noticing their bags.  I am sure they were as excited when they got those bags as I am when I get a new one.  And I am equally sure that, at the moment that photo was taken, their handbags were the absolute LAST thing on their minds.

credit: The Atlantic (atlantic.com)

That photo, and the particular meaning it had for me, stayed with me all day and all night and I am still thinking about it now.  Perspective is such a HUGE word.  It's everything.

When my husband was ill and then when he passed away, there were times I would just get SO angry.  I was angry that our worlds were turned upside down and no one around us seemed to even notice.  Everything went on around us as if things were perfectly normal. The sun even had the audacity to come up every day!  I couldn't wrap my head around it.   Sometimes I wanted to scream at them.  "HELLO!  Don't you people understand the tragedy that's going on here???  Don't you know that the world will never be the same???"  But it wasn't "their tragedy."  Their lives were going on as normal.  Now don't get me wrong, I would never wish what we went through on anyone and I don't really understand myself what I expected anyone to do.  Nothing, I suppose.  There wasn't anything they could have done.  My perspective was majorly out of whack.

I think that's why I got upset with myself for noticing their handbags in that photo.

But the world doesn't stop turning.

For anyone or anything.