Happy Father’s Day … and Happy Birthday to Me (I’m forty-cough, cough-2 today)!

We’re back in Notland (our friend Dan’s brilliant term for the world everyone else was living in while we were in Scotland), two weeks today. But at this point, Notland still feels like living in a weird foggy neither-here-nor-there limbo-land.

Some things are the same — for example, Strum just asked “what are having na-night?” at 10:30 am, having just finished her mid-morning snack.

For example, in the time it’s taken me to write the above 3-4 sentences I’ve had to stop four or five times, to 1 – clean a spill; 2 – enforce a Time Out; 3 – wipe-up a face covered in peanut-butter toast and a hand dunked in chai (see 1)

For example, it’s 10:45 and I’m still in my bathrobe.

And, for example, the girls are still cute as all get-out:

Strum has a cuppa ... in a kitchen she doesn't quite recall.

barrow on the Seneca Lake pier

BUT some things are different:

Work is quickly all-consuming, and it’s tough feeling pulled in many directions again (writing, advising, prepping classes, bureaucratic stuff, plus time with friends, time with fam, time with each other, working on the house, working on the garden/yard, taking the car to the shop, reading things I’ll teach in the fall… ) instead of only two (writing, or spending time with the fam).

Time seems to be hurtling past at break-neck speed here, instead of washing over us gently. For example, 4 3/4=year-old Barrow is writing phrases and SENTENCES this morning: “HAPY FOTHRS DAU DADDY I LOV YYOO” (melt!) and “HAPY BRCHTAY MOMMY” (melt again!) How did THAT happen?

On the other hand, remaining “unsettled” here, as Kevin points out, can be productive. We don’t want to just return to what we were, unaltered by our experience of another beautiful place.

Top Ten things I miss most about Scotland:

1. waking up to the sound of seagulls

2. consistently perfect cups of tea

3. every day having an “adventure” in it

4. the Isle of May in the distance

5. saying “Hi-ya”

6. hot smoked salmon

7. the dishwasher

8. our friends (hi-ya!)

9. Scotland

10. blogging (translation: living a more “examined” life)

So, as Kevin suggested, I’m going to try to keep blogging. It will be intermittent, given that list of things above that are pulling us in all directions (and given my bad rep as a correspondent). But it will be fun. Kevin is doing it too, I think.

So from now on, look for us here:

http://annagreenwood.wordpress.com

or here:

http://kpunk.wordpress.com

And one last hug goes out to my sweet collaborator, SuperDaddy that he is:

Love.

I think the return may have been the hardest on Strummer. Yes, Barrow burst into tears a few minutes after returning to Childrens’ Hours, but only because she was totally overwhelmed. She regained her composure in minutes and threw herself back into things with her usually exuberance. Here she is with Strummer in their wagon heading off for that first morning back in Childrens’ Hours.

But it is Strummer who is so profoundly confused by what has just transpired. It isn’t too surprising since she spent about a quarter of her life so far in St Monans, and about half of her cognizant life there. But here at “home” she stumbles around, unsure where the rooms are. Yesterday morning she turned slowly around and around in the kitchen before finally asking where the dishwasher was. We don’t have a dishwasher in Geneva, my sweets.

These things are inevitable and part of living. But I’m actually troubled by something larger, something more difficult to explain. While we were away, we developed different ‘ways of being,’ for lack of a better expression. Ways of being in the sense of how we related to ourselves, other people, the world around us. These ways of being come out of a variety of factors and influences, but also by making different choices. Now, I’m not talking about painting a simplistic picture of American versus Scottish ways of being, as if I can reduce complex cultures and cultural practices down to a ten-point summary for comparative purposes. I’m saying that I (we, though Anna and the girls will have their own specific understandings of this) developed certain ways of being over the four months in St Monans. In some ways, those ways of being were healthier for me, my relations with other people (saying “Hiya” to everybody on the street), and my relation to the world around me (saying ‘Good morning to the morning” every morning; feeding the birds everyday; composting). Of course, not all those ways of being were positive. For example, in Geneva I walk more, eat less sugar, and probably drink less alcohol than I did in Scotland. The point is, many of those ways of being I developed in Scotland were really great and I’d like to hold on to them – but it is really, really hard to. The strength of preexisting ways of being are so strong when you return to their context. It is amazing how quickly I developed other ways of being, but more amazing how quickly the old ones come back as if they have more permanence than they actually do. Of course, there are structural forces at play: it is hard to be as environmentally-friendly as we were in Scotland given the structural forces that keep “American life” so environmentally unsustainable: huge cars, crappy public transportation, half-assed recycling, over-packaged products, etc. And it is hard to sustain a dedication to eating smaller, healthier meals, as we did in Scotland, when food proportions back home are excessively zealous, both in restaurants and in grocery stores (yesterday we found it impossible to buy a single head of lettuce; we had to buy three in a big plastic bag).

So while this blog may help me recall all the wonderful people, places, and experiences we had while in Scotland, it doesn’t really help as a resource for clinging to those ways of being that I developed while there and want so desperately to keep. But, these things are processes and hopefully by just articulating these thoughts here will help strength my ability to do so. Again, there are structural forces that shape our ways of being, but more than anything, they are generated by choice. We must actively choose to ‘be’ differently.

OK, that probably isn’t what you logged on for. You probably logged on for pictures of two cute girls in frolicking on a playground. Well, it just so happens we have a playground right next door to our house. And here are the girls getting reacquainted with it.

One thing I have discovered about blogging (besides how much time it takes) is how addictive it becomes. I am going to find it exceedingly difficult to stop documenting our family’s daily existence. But I think that this may be my last post on this site (I never say never) for many reasons, not least of which is the time it takes (now that I’m back, I do have a multi-media empire to help run after all). But also because this blog was aimed at documenting one specific four-month long moment in time. And now that time is over. Anna will be posting again in the near future, so please come back for that.

But before I sign off, there is one thing I want to say about the blog that not everyone might be aware of. We had an incredibly large daily readership that often exceeded a hundred. What we quickly realized was that many people in St Monans itself were following the blog (the first clue was when I was taking a photo at the International Food Fest, someone I had never met before asked me if the picture would be appearing on our blog). I’m sure they were curious what we were saying about their little village and the people that lived there. To them I say: I hope I did it justice. We are so in love with your little village. And as I say about my love for Geneva, it is not a blind love, but one that recognizes all the warts and defects and loves anyway. We made lots of friends, and I could tell that, if we were to stay, those friendships would have been extremely deep and long-lasting. (Alistair, if you are reading this, I can honestly say that you are one of my favorite people ever; sorry I didn’t get to say goodbye; and I look forward to buying you a couple of pints of Fosters in the future). To everybody in St Monans, thanks for your warmth and generosity to me and my family, and I can’t wait to come back.

Peaking out of Barrow’s hoodie is the beak of her stuffed pink flamingo, who she became extremely attached to on the way home. She invested a lot of energy into it as her ‘security blanket’ to deal with the disruption, and it did a great job keeping her OK and happy. For her part, Strummer was traveling with the stuffed Frosty, who got his own seat.

But when we checked in, two of the bags were over-weight (the clothes and the swag bag). Luckily we were traveling with an extra duffel bag or it would have cost is $150 for each bag over-weight. So we did some quick un- and re-packing in the airport to get everything taken care of. Then began the long first leg.

At this point I should say that the total travel time for our return journey was 22 hours. Barrow and Strummer each had short naps (an hour and 30 minutes respectively) early on in the first flight. Strummer would catch some more sleep later at JFK, but for Barrow this meant that she went around 20 straight hours without any sleep. And they were both such amazing troopers. When they got to JFK, we plunked down to get some dinner (6.30 GMT; 1.30 EST). But because they had been on opposite ends of the aisle on the plane flight, the girls had missed being with each other. So for the first few minutes, they just hugged and kissed.

Of course, a few hours later, exhaustion began taking its toll on all of us. Strummer fell asleep while I pushed her around the terminal in her stroller. Barrow got a little frayed, but was pretty amazing in general.

For those who care, Rob Dyrdek was sitting behind me as I took this picture. Skate kids were coming up to him constantly and asking to take their picture with him. He was very kind and generous to them all, even the two who almost caused him to miss his plane.

But we finally got our connection home, only to sit at the gate for an hour and then on the tarmac for another hour, before finally taking off around 9 pm EST (that’d be 2 am GMT). When we arrived at Syracuse, the girls became giddy and hyper. Here is Barrow doing a somersault. Strummer followed moments later with her first complete somersault!

And then it was time for our ride home… in a limo! Here are my girls in the back of the limo. 

[Flashback: here is the picture from the first post of the girls in the back of the limo on the way to the airport in February:

We got home and then collapsed into bed a little after 11 pm EST (4 am GMT; over 22 hours after beginning). But not before noticing how absolutely AWESOME our friends are. I took these photos this morning, but when we got home last night we were met by a giant greeting card on our door courtesy of Bibi and Desmond.

A plate of muffins (from Rob and Ingrid?)

And some delicious food, including home-made bread, from Richard, Lisa, and Alex.

It was a warm reminder of why we love this little town of ours! We were up early this morning from the jet lag, and the girls got re-oriented with their toys, clothes, and back yard!

We still have more posts to put up, so come on back. But suffice it to say that we are simultaneously happy to be back in Geneva and with our old friends, and missing St Monans and our new friends.

Yesterday we went into Pittenweem to get DiDi her Jakeman’s fix and also bought Barrow’s teachers a few ‘thank you gifts.’ Here are the girls chilling on the wall seat. If you are interested, you can slog through the earlier posts to find a picture of the Barrow sitting on the same wall in February. The difference is striking.

Last night, Anna and I went on our last date here in St Monans. We decided to go to The Seafood Restaurant by the harbour. Here we are in front of the place, with the Firth of Forth behind us.

And, yes, it is actually called ‘The Seafood Restaurant.’

The restaurant was originally started here and then the owners opened a new place (also called The Seafood Restaurant) in St Andrews. It is world renowned. Seriously, if you look in any travel guide about Scotland, if St Monans is listed it is usually because of this restaurant. So, we decided we’d give it a try, even though it appears to be over-priced and too foofey for our tastes. But it was a good excuse to take this lovely lady out to celebrate finishing her book manuscript. Seriously, would you LOOK at what a sweetie she is!

Note the circle of butter on the cool piece of slate. We both thought that Pa and TJ would appreciate that touch. Meanwhile poor Anna had to spend her evening with this goof.

I won’t discuss the meal except to say that is was all delicious, grossly over-priced and proportionally paltry.

OK, back to today. After nursery, we walked down to the post office and then to the little shop in town Feather Your Nest, where we picked up a few things. Fiona, the owner of the shop, is so sweet, she gave each of the girls a toy bird to take home as a souvenir. Here they are outside the store with their birds. If you are ever in St Monans, you must go to Feather Your Nest and tell Fiona we sent you!

Afterwards, the girls perched themselves on a random St Monans window sill and just exuded cuteness. So I had to take a picture.

 I am now going to post a picture of Bass Rock (a large rock island in the Firth of Forth). I know that I tend towards the overly hyperbolic on this blog, but I can’t even begin to express what this big hunk of rock does to me. Every time I see it, it takes my breath away. Every hour of every day it expresses itself in a different way. Simply sublime, Bass Rock is…ah hell, neither words nor this picture do it justice.

In the afternoon, we were finally able to walk Laurel around St Monans. We went down to the auld kirk and took a few pictures. Can you see the family resemblance? Neither can I, but hang with us for five minutes and you can feel the love.

In the evening the adults went out to The Ship in Elie for dinner. The weather has been amazingly nice and we toyed with the idea of sitting outside in their beer garden by the water, but it turns out that they only serve food there during lunch. But we we sat by the front window and got to bask in the warm sunlight.

And afterwards, as per usual, we headed over to the Kinneuchar Inn at Kilconquhar for a few drinks and a few rounds of obscure British trivial pursuit. Laurel loved the pub, but had a problem with Anna’s choice of a half pint (in Anna’s defense, she likes half pints because she can sample more drinks and not have them get warm. At least that is what she says).

On Saturday, we headed off to St Andrews for a bit of shopping and sight-seeing. We spent some time wandering around the cathedral ruins, where Strummer was curious about the covered well.

The girls enjoyed just running about the ruins, climbing on old gravestones, and walking on walls.

After lunch, I drove Strummer back home for nap time while Anna, Laurel and Barrow continued to walk around St Andrews before coming back on a bus. We had a yummy dinner of veggie pies (courtesy of Linda McCartney) and chips (courtesy of Murray Fish’n'Chip van).

On Sunday, we were invited to lunch by Ali, the head of the School of IR. She and her family live just north of St Andrews, but we got there a little ahead of time. So we spent a few minutes at a… playground!

Here is Barrow jumping onto the merry-go-round that she got spinning as fast as she could.

Barrow and Laurel had pretty much become joined at the hip by this point.

Exhibit A:

Exhibit B:

Laurel did get the occasional break. Here she is enjoying the nice afternoon weather in the backyard.

But on Monday morning, I had to drive Laurel to Kirkcaldy to catch the train to the airport. It was so great having her here and so hard to say goodbye.

The girls definitely missed her and Barrow did some acting out, which is not unusual when someone leaves. But this morning, I took them over to Elie to play on the playground near the golf course there. There is a play shop-front that Barrow absolutely adores. She spent about half of the time there taking my order for tea (“One Earl Grey!”), ice cream, pasta, and lemonade. All for only “50 pence.” What a bargain.

Here are my two sweeties on either side of the climber.

Finally, the shot of the day: Strummer climbing through the tunnel.

The whole experience reminded me of something Anna said earlier in the trip about only getting absolute power when she didn’t want it (as in being chosen to pick a restaurant for everyone). I’ve dreamed of being able to do all sorts of things by simply pointing a finger—make things invisible, throw spider-webs, levitate—but never, ever did I consider the merits or fiery shame of causing hordes of children to flee, screaming, into a school yard just by pushing the wrong button. A button, I might add, that was right next to the button that opens the classroom door and one that could have used a plastic cover. A plastic cover in addition to that little red picture of a house on fire.

Barrow helpfully mentioned that she and all her classmates had been “very scared, because the noise wouldn’t stop,”  but was definitely interested in the fact that I’d been the cause. She did that thing where she stares at you, unblinking, while the wheels in her brain spin with a speed that will clearly accommodate world domination by the time she’s 7. (The world will be renamed Princess Kingdom.) Strummer, as you can see from the photo above, stayed focused on the chicken see-saw and took the whole thing in stride.

Okay, enough trying to assuage my still-lingering shame by reliving it as an amusing anecdote. Because the thing is, before all that excitement, I was going to title this post “we’re doing regular, everyday, wonderful things.” It’s a title that wouldn’t fill movie theaters, but I mean it. Yesterday felt like the kind of day you almost never, ever get on vacation: a vacation. It was relaxing, it was fun, the weather was perfect and the birds sang non-stop about it, and it involved bunches of tiny flowers tied up with grass.

And laundry …

… and Barrow-designed (and inflicted) hairstyles … 

… and alternative uses of skate parks … 

… and startlingly cute kids on playground equipment. 

In fact, I don’t honestly know how Anna and Kevin expect me to type anything coherent after several days of intense B and Strumbelina cuteness (seriously, did you see how cute?), but I do know that everyone who reads this blog can sympathize. I love this family like crazy and am so very grateful to be here.

We drove northwest from Edinburgh towards the Isle of Skye. The drive was amazing as we went through Glencoe, a truly magnificent place (Scottish history buffs will know it as the site of the infamous massacre against the clan MacDonald). It was rainy and foggy, which only added to the romance and sublimeness of the place. Photos can’t even begin to do it justice, but here is a photo from the car.

And another, just to suggest the beauty.

We spent the night at Onich, a little village just north of Glencoe, at the Cuilcheanna B&B: 

This was the view from the B&B the next morning:

And then it was back on the road as we headed to the Isle of Skye. Laurel spent the whole trip in the back of the ANV, entertaining the girls and letting Barrow put her hair in ponytails over and over and over again. This is what the drive looked from her perspective:

On the way to the Isle of Skye (which, for the record, was so amazingly beautiful I had to wrap a scarf around my head to keep my brain from exploding), we stopped at one overlook where there were all these little cairns:

As we drove westward, we also passed the Eilean Donan Castle on a small island at the head of a convergence of lochs, which is really stunning.

And then we jumped up to Plockton, a small village just north of the Skye bridge. Here are Anna, Barrow and Strummer outside our lunch spot.

Part of the reason they are so happy is because this is their view:

The Isle of Skye has always been this mythical, magical place in my imagination and I’ve always had this strong desire to visit (well, actually the desire is to move there and spend the rest of my life there). It was really a stunning place (as was the entire drive from Glencoe, as the Highlands are amazing): a rough-hewed land with towering rocky mountains. Again, the photos are ridiculous attempts to capture something it is impossible to convey.

We took a very narrow windy single-lane road down to Elgol, a harbor almost at the bottom of the island. This is a photo from down there, looking out at smaller island.

Of course, all this beauty and driving takes its toll on the wee ones.

We eventually arrived at Portree, the main village on the Isle of Skye. Here is a picture of the harbor. We were staying in a self-catered apartment on the top floors of the building on the right that is painted green on the bottom and yellow on the top.

Here is a photo of Barrow and Laurel at dinner, after Barrow defeated Laurel in a face-off. This was when we were still happy, before we sat there for over an hour because they had lost our order.

It was raining on-and-off all day and we saw so many rainbows while we were at Portree. It was as if Portree has a rainbow-making machine hidden in the harbour. Seriously, we’d look out the window and *bam!* another double rainbow.

On Wednesday we headed back to Fife, driving pass more beautiful vistas and snow-capped mountains surrounded by mist.

In the afternoon, we stopped off at the Blair Atholl Water Mill and Tearoom, just north of Pitlochry, for scones and tea. Here we are, all together, through the magic auto-timer:

 We stopped in Cupar (home of the Fife Show, as Strummer kept reminding us) for dinner. While Anna went inside Armaan, the Bangladeshi restaurant, to order, Laurel and I played with the girls up and down the street. Here is Laurel taking a photo of two street urchins:

And here they are, crowded into a call box.

Despite being in the car for three full days, the girls held up really well. I’m so proud of those little sweetie pies. Here is Barrow and Anna being goofy in the restaurant with a piece of lemon.

And here is Laurel, chugging her beer, to deal with the cuteness she has endured in the back seat.

I knew that this post would fail on all accounts. The photos don’t even begin to capture the beauty that we awe, and I don’t have the linguistic capacity to convey that beauty and my reactions to it (‘stunning! awesome! fantastic!’ doesn’t quite cut it). Nor can I explain how great it is to have Laurel here, how much she means to me, and how deeply connected my girls have already become to her. All I can say in conclusion is that I and my family love her so much. And that the Scottish Highlands and Isles (the limited parts that I have seen) far exceed my expectations of them. I think it may be my favorite place on this earth.

So it is a TOTALLY gorgeous summerish day at last in Fife.  While Jo prepares a feast for dinner, Ian and Blythe and Archie (back from China, and here for a few days before they head off to Sweden)  decide to take us to Dunino Church, just north of Anstruther, which has a woodland walk nearby.  

We went hurtling down the path…

Anna (l) Laburnum tree (center: want one in my garden!), Ian (r: in awesome retro vintage sweater knitted by Jo)

over the gate…

and into the woods…

note blue forest floor: bluebells are peaking!

 The path leads down to a beautiful little pool — either a druid well or a baptismal font…  And then below that is a stone staircase carved into a rock …

Barrow descends the stone staircase

Kevin and Strum on the stone staircase

The staircase leads down into the “Dunino Den,” a deep woods with celtic knots and symbols carved into the  rocks, and trees with little “offerings” tied on them.  

A stream flows through, and the kids hurled rocks into it and rode horsey on the logs lying about.

After we’d seen the druid den, we went back up to desecrate  the hallowed church ground by …

riding broomsticks-built-for-two

riding on grave-horseys

crowding onto tombstones

and jumping off them!

wheeee!

It’s a beautiful church, built around 1826 I think, though consecrated in 12-something-or-other.  We went inside, where Blythe and Barrow sang some hymns

– while Strummer pretended to serve snacks through the leaded glass.

Back outside, Kevin and Ian chatted, 

while I took some experimental pix,

worms-eye view of cool tree

offerings atop a celtic stone in the graveyard

Then it was back to St. Monans for Jo’s delicious supper, baked in a South African-style “poitje” over the fire pit in the back garden.

cookout

mmmmmm delicious stew...

and one last frolic before bedtime ...