New Life Old Farmers

When we moved into our house last year, the neighbors had heard that we were an ‘older’ retired couple. What they expected looked something like this.

Day to day what they’ve got is a bit more like this.

Our gardens are almost ‘one’ with just a small wall between us.

We are all each blessed in so many different ways as we live our days in companionship with one an other.

The Loons began their own business.

I was given a few of their fliers to share with my friends. I’m not only their advertiser, but their first and best customer. My bike is sparkling!

I’m on hand for the occasional walk to the ice cream store, card game, book reading and pop corn making American style complete with salt and butter. My Loving Spouse on the other hand provides the excitement. The loons have been on hand for the day to day building of THE CycleKart. Designed, planned and built completely by My Loving Spouse piece by piece. So many of the pieces being delivered bit by bit in the Post, we’re planning to call the car ‘Snail Mail’. All he wanted for Christmas were the tires (or tyres as they are spelled here) for the car.

He dreamed of seats being red leather, but leather is expensive. Ever so resourceful, he found a free red leather chair on Facebook Market Place. He just had to pick it up. The loons were on hand to enjoy the last bit of the ride.

All the Loons big and small have been eagerly awaiting spring. Fishing season is just around the corner and someone (My Loving Spouse) bought a boat and is planning on sharing, which is great for me, as I don’t like fishing.

The boat was dirty. Those two Loons washed and washed and washed that boat, along with great discussions about where they were going to put all the fish they caught.

We’ve only had one catastrophe, as one Loon fell off the boat while cleaning. We’ve lifted up multiple prayers of thanks that only his pride was injured.

Snail Mail was ready for her first run. Our street is narrow and lined with stone walls. Only My Loving Spouse and the Loon’s Dad were allowed to give it a go. Waiting for Daddy Loon to get home was important as he was almost as excited as My Loving Spouse.

Snail Mail rattles a bit, but the inaugural run was extremely exciting. (I’m sorry, that I am challenged by technology. I’ve only managed to include one video. Perhaps it is because the only one that works is the one My Loving Spouse took.) All in all it was a very exciting event.

All the Loons were up bright and early to load Snail Mail and head out to our friends’ house for a day of fun. Not only would their friends be there, but their drive was wide and lacked stone walls. The perfect place for everyone to have a go driving Snail Mail.

I have to say, it is really great fun.

Such fun for all the Loons to have a turn behind the wheel with no mishaps or disasters.

I continue to be impressed at the things My Loving Spouse can do, he is a clever Loon indeed.

The day was a complete delight. A beautiful day with friends, we had lunch, I got to kick the rugby ball to the Loons, we took a long walk, got ice cream cones and Gunner took a dip in a stinky ditch.

It was perfect…and we are truly blessed.

Approximately half of the people in our church call me “Pat”. The other half haven’t met me yet. We meet people, we get introduced as “Pat and Ellen”. The next time I see them they say, “Hi Pat.”

I’ve given up and just say, ‘hi’ back.

I joined a Nordic walking group. The trick is to not trip over your walking sticks and wear the proper clothes, because in Scotland the weather is always just fine for a walk. The walking group is run by a gal from church. A few months ago, I was walking with her sister and another lady. They were keeping me company in the ‘slow lane’.

Gal #1 says to me, “How’s your husband, Sam?”

I said, “Pat”.

Gal #2 says, “What?”

“My husband’s Pat.”

Gal #2, “I’m Pat.”

Gal #1, “Your husband’s name is Pat?”

“Yes, Pat”

Gal #1, “Oh! I wonder what it’s short for?”

“Hmmm, Patrick.”

Gal #1, “Ahhhhh…”

She still called me Pat for a few more weeks and so did her sister.

Last week we were the greeters at church. Plenty of opportunity for people to say ‘hello to Pat’, we’re just not sure who they were talking to.

The Pastor even confessed to us, that he knows my name is ‘Ellen’, but he has a hard time calling “Pat” by his name as in Scotland it is considered a girl’s name.

I just say ‘hi’ whenever I am called “Pat” and Pat….

he’s thinking of going by his middle name and everyone can call him

‘Jimmy,’ but with a Scottish accent so it sounds more like ‘Jimmah’.

Well, what can we say, spring is here, Scotland is beautiful and we are blessed.

The Loons* next door showed up with raffle tickets for the Daffodil tea. The Loons ‘hemmed and hawed’, saying, “You don’t have too…”.

“Of course we do! What’s the point of having extra ‘Grandparents’ next door’, if we don’t buy what you’re selling”.

We got the raffle tickets and then asked what they were for. Isn’t it great to reach the point in life where when kids we love show up to sell something, we just buy some, even if we have no idea what it is.

It turns out that the Daffodil Tea is the fundraiser for the parent group at their small school. We put it on our calendar. We dragged our current visitors to the tea with us and they were charmed.

There were some lovely baked goods, vegetable starts grown by the students, a Bottle stall (now I know what that is), a nearby Farmer’s fresh vegetables, a few individual craft stalls and the students Bunny stall made during their Outdoor school.

…and there was tea.

It was lovely and charming. I felt proud showing Scotland off this way to our guests.

I also was able to procure two very important bunnies, built by my favorite loons. They are now in the garden encouraging the rest of the spring bulbs to appear.

…and we are blessed.

*boy

I went home? I was on many airplanes and had plenty of time to practice patience in multiple airports. Honestly, I don’t remember much about that.

I remember the hugs.

I remember being ‘home’. Sitting on the couch with my BGF drinking our coffee in the morning, eating popcorn in the evening.

I remember being ‘home’ with Team Offspring.

I remember seeing the ‘set’ of Number Two Son’s Show and laughing through the funny, well done play. I was ‘home’ reading the deeply moving comment in the show’s program.

I was ‘home’ shopping with Number Two Son, looking for a lighter suitcase and picking up every case in multiple stores.

I was ‘home’ drinking coffee and gathering more hugs from dear friends.

I was ‘home’.

I can’t say I was ‘home’, but I was pretty pleased shopping for My Loving Spouse’s Valentine gift to me. ‘He’ really ‘nailed’ it.

I was ‘home’ watching the Super Bowl, snuggled up on the couch with Number One Son’s family. Listening to the giggles from THE Grandson and THE Granddaughter as the commercials played. Enjoying football food with my favorite American chips as they enjoyed the Scottish treats I’d brought for them.

I was ‘home’ watching My Girl take my place as the Baby Whisperer.

I was definitely ‘home’ when Little Sister finally warmed up to me, (even if she is asleep)!

I was ‘home’ getting beat in UNO, six times in a row by Little Miss who is only 3 1/2!!

I was ‘home’ being chosen to be the bedtime book reader.

I was ‘home’ taking the Girls shopping and getting My Girl to continue the quest of the ‘lighter’ suitcase, picking up every suitcase in the store. (Yes, we found it and I quickly had it full of treats to take back to Scotland.)

I was ‘home’ watching My Girls and the support they give each other.

I remember the joy, the hugs and the precious time together.

I was ‘home’ when I heard My Loving Spouse say, “I’m so glad you’re home. We missed you”.

I was ‘home’ when greeted by my sweet Loons next door.

…and so it is very true, ‘home’ is where your heart is, and mine is all over the map!

…and I am blessed.

Dear Friends,

I haven’t written anything, because my heart has been heavy. I have lived most of my life (53 years) in Southern California, specifically the area near the Eaton fire. It’s not an ‘area’, it’s a home town. The list of sweet faces of those we know who have lost everything continues to grow.

Our church friends continue to pray for the people affected by the fires. Those affected have become more personal to them because of knowing us. We covet their prayers and appreciate their concern. I’ve mostly gone into hiding in our house, only offering to take the boys/loons next door for an ice cream to break up my withdrawal.

The other effective remedy is to sew, so I’ve started a new quilt for a hurting friend.

Too many of the younger lads in my family are experiencing significant medical issues. I want to just holler, “STOP!”

I said to my mother once,

“It seems like it is always something!”

To which she replied, “Yes, that is life.”…and so we pray….for healing, for hope and always for comfort.

Yesterday, THE Susan and the boys came over with dominoes and smiles.

“We’ve come to cheer you up,” they declared.

‘Wonderful, I’ll make popcorn and hot chocolate!’ and cheered up I was.

“Look, we’re on the board!”

‘Of course you are, all my special ones are there’.

Joy and laughter and mess…it was perfect.

My Loving Spouse was making something new for dinner.

I eyed the sausage with suspicion, but dug in with a good attitude. Shortly after we started eating the shed door began banging in the wind. While My Loving Spouse went to secure it closed, I snuck most of my sausage into his bowl, hiding the pieces under his potatoes and mushrooms. I felt like a kid again, although he was a lot easier to fool than my mother!

There are 1,760 people who live in Portsoy.

There’s a whole bunch of guys named Graham, Graeme, and Gram, but none of them are spelled the same. There are a few Irene’s, a lot of Alans, but most of all there are the Susans.

THE Susan – next door neighbor, mother to the loons

Trailer Susan – who believes My Loving Spouse to be the best trailer backer-upper driver in all time.

Craft Susan – duh

Marble Susan – has the Portsoy Marble shop in town. Portsoy marble is one of a kind.

Men Shed Pete’s Susan – because she didn’t want to be known as just Men Shed’s Susan

Station Susan – Station Hotel who helps non-profits host meetings and Bingo nights galore

…and we haven’t really met that many people! How many Susans can there be?

and we are blessed.

..by those who pray with us and play with us.

May God Bless you.

Dear Friends, I kept wanting to write a meaningful well thought out post during December and as you can see, it didn’t go well or actually go at all.

We finally felt settled enough to take a small trip, heading South to Colchester to visit friends. In times past we’d drive like maniacs (well, not ‘we’ exactly, as I am the designated ‘sleeper’ on most drives). We’re trying to remember now, that we are retired and can enjoy a more leisurely pace.

Our first stop was at The House of Bruar, which could possibly be described as a Disneyland for Tartan. Multiple buildings with walkways, signs and employees in classic uniforms and lots of fairy lights. We’d been informed we needed anywhere from 3-6 hours there. It was a fun place to peruse all kinds of things from art to home goods to fishing needs and more.

…and yet, all we bought was…lunch.

We took a detour through the Edinburgh Christmas market on our way to York. My travel advisory is to always make sure you have a few coins with you AND your card, because if you need the only bathroom in the nearby train station you’ll need 30p to get in.

Traveling during the holidays and seeing so many decorations, walking along the old streets in York and the homes’ bay windows filled with Christmas trees was very different from our little fishing village and a complete delight.

Bury St. Edmonds is a wonderful, colorful town to visit any time of year. Great history, shopping, and food. Including a great kitchen store, where I sourced My Loving Spouse’s favorite gift. Nothing says loving like a new potato peeler. We planned well and stayed over in the delightful pub, The Guinness Arms, which gave us a place to stay, good food to eat and a visit with family.

Whenever we visit our friends, he knows my ‘kind of shop’. I found this wonderful print in a hidden gem of an antique shop. A fun find, as The Wind in the Willows is My Loving Spouse’s favorite children’s book and the new bathroom needs some warming up.

I completely blame this traveling on why our Happy New Year’s cards are still on their way. Except for the one that goes to England and is on it’s way to America…oops.

Dachshunds are very popular here. They are called sausage dogs. I do prefer my breed of sausage dog. Christmas eve dinner with sour cream gravy eaten by family everywhere.

The days leading up to Christmas felt like the ‘Santa tracker’ except for gifts, watching which packages made it where, being both amused and dismayed at the delivery system.

Christmas day brought new traditions, watching the King’s Christmas message.

Playing gin, while drinking gin.

Enjoying the wonders of technology, connecting with family and watching the Grand kids open their presents. The Little Miss is now 3 1/2, spunky, funny and quite entertaining. The puppet theater was fun to make and the puppets, quite the learning curve and we have plenty of mismatched socks now to prove it.

…and we are grateful and blessed.

by our life in Scotland,

our new friends and old..

our family far and wide…

and especially by the love of our Lord and Savior.

Happy New Year

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. The day after Thanksgiving is my favorite day of the year.

We had two options:

1. forgoing this lovely tradition
2. share it with our new friends.

Option 2 for the win!

A children’s Thanksgiving history book was ordered, as no one really understood the origins and meaning of Thanksgiving. Some thought it was just a Christmas dinner served early.

Preparing for Thanksgiving in a foreign country is a bit tricky. We started early with our list at Costco in Aberdeen. (Costco Aberdeen is exactly like all American Costco’s, laid out the same and the hot dogs are delicious. They do call the carts ‘trolleys’ and you can buy haggis, so there are a few differences).

Costco shopping:

• pecans for the pie
• sweet potatoes
• sparkling non-alcoholic juice bottled like champagne for the loons/boys (which was a huge hit as they delightfully toasted each other and saying things like “look what we get to drink)

Grocery store shopping:

• turkey
• marshmallows for the sweet potatoes, which were pink and white, sunk and melted
• cranberry sauce came in jars
• squirty cream (whipped cream)
• fresh green beans as they do not come any other way

Procured online. Amazon for the win:

• Pumpkin pie spice
• Pumpkin puree for pie
• Stuffing mix
• Fried onions for green bean casserole
• Cream of mushroom soup for green bean casserole

Locally sourced:

• Tatties (potatoes) given to us by a friend from his field.
• Pickled figs made by me. Surprisingly a big hit.

Cooked in our new ovens. We’re still getting use to them, but they are brilliant for cooking Thanksgiving with grateful thanks to my B.I.L. who is in the business.

My sewing room could hold us all, as long as we sat down in order, as there was only one way in and out. My heart was full as the youngest loon saw the table and expressed complete delight!

Figuring out that the secretary in the hall would work as a buffet was a logistical hit!

The great thing about a Scottish Thanksgiving is that the stores were never crowded with last minute shoppers who had forgotten to buy unbaked baguettes. Baked baguettes and copious amounts of butter were the loons favorite food.

Hosting Thanksgiving is easier when you’re retired.

Adjusting to the fact that no one else knows it is a holiday is a work in progress.

Having a houseful of friends who were ALL very excited about Thanksgiving was a blessing beyond anything I could have imagined.

Thanksgiving, it never is about the turkey.

…clearly we are so very, very blessed.

I am apparently not too old to jump up and down with joy when I see my treasured friend (BGF) walking toward me at the Aberdeen airport.

Her suitcase was loaded with gifts. Frito’s, home made Choc. Chip cookies, books, puzzles, tootsie roll pops and for my friends, honey sticks and salt water taffy to name a few. Her hugs and her presence were a balm to my soul.

BGF is one of my biggest fans of the blog. She likes that the words are few and the pictures many. All of these photos are hers, with a few thrown in from My Loving Spouse.

I offered to let her write this post, but she immediately declined. You’ll just have to enjoy her photos, which are here in a random manner, just because something caught her eye.

This time together was planned after many tears and the reality that we needed to be together. She needed a short get away and to see me. I needed her to see our life here and to see her.

The Great British Sewing Bee got two thumbs up, as did the Quiz winning Rhubarb and Ginger Gin.

The weather was fine. The Portsoy Rowing Club gave her a warm and cheery welcome, fulfilling a bucket list item for her, rowing on the North Sea.

Such fun to row together.

BFG was a natural. I knew she would be, because she’s sort of awesome.

We went to Cullen, so BGF could have Cullen Skink. She had a wee bowl. Not because she had any reservations about smoked haddock soup, but because she’d spied something new on the menu.

Duck Buns!

We all had a taste and they were delicious, but my favorite part was asking often, “How are your duck buns?”

Remembrance Sunday was a special, solemn time to share.

We’ve been through tough stuff together. Hard times with deaths, illness, children and we leaned on each other. We know with life, we’ll walk through more someday.

Biking through Scotland on a chilly day.

I knew she’d have no problem keeping up with me.

Little did she know that there was a very high likelihood of my getting us lost.

I am glad to say that I did not and the ride ended as planned, just before she was completely frozen. We met My Loving Spouse with the car and bike racks at the cafe and proceeded to warm her up with a latte and the Scottish staple Bacon Bun, which somehow is not nearly as funny as Duck buns.

Walks through the town, the cliffs by the sea, a cider in the pub and coffee in the kitchen with the jigsaw all spread out. Cherished time and my heart was filled. Still time to be silly and dress the same when we went out for an Indian meal.

…and a bit sillier still when they deliver the napkins.

Yes, this could be my favorite picture.

How blessed am I?

I said when I picked her up in Aberdeen with a huge smile on my face. “I think this is how heaven will be. I can just feel Jesus skipping along side of us.”

Now we each are home.

…and we are blessed..

.. and I am grateful.

The Portsoy Rowing Club hosted a Quiz night fundraiser. Located at the Salmon Bothy built in 1834 near the harbor. There was a boat load of raffle prizes, (‘boat load’…get it?)

Small Town life has advantages when it comes to this type of event. Almost everyone can walk to the location and home again. This is good as it was BYOB and bring your own snacks.

Our team of 6 brought enough to share…

I really wanted to go, but was a tad nervous. I wasn’t sure my knowledge would contribute much. Turns out, our team was a good fit with everyone contributing at different times.

I did not know how many cities there are in Scotland. (8)

My Loving Spouse was quite good at Geography.

When a question came up about Premier League soccer winning teams, I asked, if I could phone a friend (Number 2 Son). Ah…no, alas phones were not allowed.

Luckily for my team, there were a smattering of American questions. I fantasized that I was the American secret weapon. (Obviously, I could name all 4 times zones in the US) and recognize the Mexican flag.

Our team was not overly serious as we were having too much fun, still we did fairly well coming in 4th place.

500 pounds was raised for the Rowing Club due to the generosity of everyone’s raffle donations.

Can you say,

“Winner, winner, chicken dinner?”

We gathered up our winnings and started the walk home. It was a beautiful night, so we stopped often to enjoy the walk or we were well loaded down and needed a wee break every once in awhile.

We ran into a cheery well inebriated group walking down to the pub. One gal said, “Whoa! Look at that basket.”

‘Oh, we’ve been to a Quiz night’.

She grabbed my arm affectionately and said, “Well done you! You won! Good job”

‘Yes, I won the raffles’.

“Oh, I thought you won the quiz. I take it back.”

Then she happily wobbled her way to the pub.

A fun night in our town…and we are blessed.