New Life Old Farmers

I went for a row last evening. (If you’re saying, ‘what’! All I can say is, I know, right!)

I had been encouraged to give it a go, by my new Portsoy Friend. (Who wanted to know, if I had ever met that man on my street who could back up a trailer around two curves and into his driveway, as he is very impressive. Ah, yes, My Loving Spouse, but that is a different story).

I was very excited and nervous. I’d asked her all my most important questions. Are you sure I’m not too old? What do we wear? Where do we meet? My Loving Spouse only asked me one question, will you need a life jacket? I asked My Loving Spouse only one question, “What if I suck?”

The Portsoy Coastal Rowing Club is an amazing group of friendly folks. After I read the history of the club, I knew these were my kind of people. A group of women who came together to build a specific rowboat, even though they didn’t know anything about woodworking or rowing.

The sun doesn’t even start setting until 10:00 pm, so one can set out for a row at 7:30 pm. Just rowing about the North Sea on a Monday night. We saw a pair of seals, a rainbow and we got rained on a little bit. We rowed from Portsoy to Sandend, being told that we’d never have gone that far, if we weren’t doing really well.

Rowing out of and back into the port of Portsoy was magical. This lovely village is even more beautiful from the sea.

So…I didn’t suck. It does take concentration to match the stroke of the first rower. Still, I was quite enjoying myself. I mentioned how much I liked it and that I had been concerned that I was too old. A trio of gals laughed and said, “No one’s too old. We’ve even got someone who’s 60!” (Gasp)

I nodded and laughed, saying, “That’s me.” Which is not exactly true as I’m not that young.

Yes, I’ll be going back. I hope someday to be able to do one of the regattas, which is a fancy name for race.

…and I am blessed.

This guy came to Park View and left a lasting mark.

Upbeat, diligent, hard working, and reasonably priced Joe was a dream come true. We’re beyond grateful for the beautiful impact he’s made in our home.

Our Portsoy cottage is still a work in progress, but here’s a peak at what a bit of color can do not only for our walls, but for making it feel like my home.

Our bedroom is warmer in color. My childhood dresser is a delightful improvement over the cardboard box night stand and next to that is my Grandmother’s chair. We didn’t bring much to Scotland, but what we did bring is precious.

The entry way and hall are still light and bright, but with just a hint of color. It feels less institutional, and sets off our new auction furniture so well.

Joe was worried the living room would be too dark, but we love, love, love it.

Almost everything is from the auction.

If you are very old (and dear) friends and family, you’ll recognize the hunting prints on the wall. Wedding presents to my Uncle & Aunt and to my Father & Mother. Who would have ever guessed that some day they would be hanging in my home in Scotland.

The color yellow has been growing all around us! Gorse is everywhere. I’m told the bees love it, but nothing else eats it.

…and it has thorns. It grows all over the hill sides.

Oilseed Rape is a bright yellow flower that has me completely dazzled. According to Wikipedia “Rapeseed is the third-largest source of vegetable oil and the second-largest source of protein meal in the world.” I just think its brilliant yellow completely stunning.

…and it is hard to give you a proper perspective with my meager iPhone photos.

Yellow flowering plants seem to thrive here. There’s even a nearby field of dandelions. (I’m glad they’re not mine.)

Last week we chatted with folks walking by the garden, because everyone is friendly. As this was our second ‘chat’, I asked if they were gardeners and invited them to inform me on what were weeds or flowers in our mystery garden bed. After my education, only 1/3 of the plants remain.

I’ve also learned that if I take a picture with my iPhone and then click on the ‘i’ below the photo, it will tell me what plant it is. Excellent tool and I take it ‘back’, my iPhone is not always meager.

Yellow is not the only thing that grows so well in Scotland.

Bluebells (confirmed by iPhone) pop up along the walking trails.

…and in this colorful world we are blessed.

I persuaded drug My Loving Spouse to attend the Family Bingo night in the village. He claimed he’d never been to Bingo. (Gasp) I began singing “BINGO and Bingo was his name OH!” often and cheerfully around the house to get him in the mood. He almost hurt himself rolling his eyes.

Hosted in the Station Hotel we booked a table for dinner explaining that we were going to go to BINGO. (“Booked a table” is what they call making a reservation. They ask you if ‘you’ve booked a table, even when no one else is in the restaurant’).

It could be this was why we were greeted with, “Oh, you’re the American. We heard you were coming.” (That’s me ‘THE American’).

BINGO night was a fundraiser for the Portsoy Toddler Group. We wandered from one table to the next paying for books, cards, raffle tickets and daubers. After being completely confused just getting the supplies, the BINGO Lady advised us to sit at the table across the room which already sat ‘seasoned BINGO players’.

Let me tell you about this BINGO ‘book’, there wasn’t a single BINGO on it. I asked my BINGO tutor, which part were doing. She said, ‘all of it’.

What!

‘Which way? Sideways? Diagonal?’

No. Two games a sheet.

My face showed confusion.

She said the games were:

1. A line (across)
2. A House (one whole square bit separated by green)

Do you see the letters B-I-N-G-O anywhere on this book?

There are only two things that go fast in Scotland.

1. The driver behind you on the road
2. The BINGO caller

In ‘regular’ BINGO there is a pause between saying ‘B17′ pause B17’, then somebody at the table says, “What?” and everyone else hollers, “B17”. Not in Scotland, first of all, there was no ‘B’ AND there was NO repeating anything at all. Plus, there was the caller’s Scottish accent. It went like this…Five, One, Fifty One, (nano second) Seven, Three, Seventy three…. My Loving Spouse and I were completely lost. We couldn’t keep up. My BINGO tutor pointed out a few of my numbers to daub. We were so lost.

It wasn’t until the second page, that my tutor explained that the numbers ran in columns. Ones, tens, twenty’s etc. Sheesh, did that make things easier. My Loving Spouse and I began daubing away and having more fun.

There is a Half Time in Scottish BINGO. It’s when the caller stops, they serve tea and biscuits (cookies) and have the raffle. Let me tell you, we suck did poorly at BINGO, but the raffle was great.

A bag of sweeties (candy), a bottle of wine and a bottle of gin and we felt like winners. We did better than one lady at our table who won 2 beers and deodorant.

I believe we added a bit of levity to our table. Our tutors warmed to us and gave us the lowdown about all the other BINGO games in town for the month. Where they were, how to get to them and how much it might cost to join the bowling social club. You can learn a lot at BINGO, I hadn’t even known there was a bowling green, let alone a social club.

We walked home with our daubers, our winnings, laughing and complaining about daubing injuries.

…and we are blessed.

(and BINGO was his name O!)

There are moments of being a tad ‘blue’. If any newly arrived Ex-Pat told me differently, I’d just have to say, “Liar, liar pants on fire”. Obviously, I knew this journey would not be easy and that it would have times of loneliness. I was unprepared for the impact the time difference would have on my ability to reach out to my ‘people’. Writing helps chase away the blues, so let me share a bit of our days.

The Shore Inn is our ‘local’ as they call the neighborhood pub. This sits down by the harbor and on beautiful days you can take your beer outside. One cold days you can sit by the fire or sit at the bar next to the man with the ferret. Dogs and ferrets welcome. We’ve seen the gentleman walking to the pub with the ferret on his leash or lead as they say here. We’ve been told that the ferret doesn’t bite, but we’ve also been told that he does, so either way I’m fine keeping my distance. I don’t think I’m a ferret person.

A flower garden in the middle of town. The picture doesn’t really do it justice.

The Scots love to walk. Such a simple lovely thing to do. Last Sunday at church people were encouraged to bring a picnic lunch for after the service and then there would be a walk. I love to walk, so I was quite excited. Gunner was excited as he was included in the walk part. The walk was not exactly around the block, it was from one village to another and back again. (Note to self: don’t wear nice shoes when you get invited on a walk). As you can see, not everyone in my group stayed on the path.

To Americans My Loving Spouse sounds either English or Australian. To the English and the Scottish he just sounds like he’s not from either of their countries. The truth is he is English and Scottish. We live in the same county as his Grandfather was born and raised in. We’re going to his hometown one day to have an adventure and walk around the graveyards looking for the Jamieson’s.

Living in Scotland now has drawn him to his Scottish roots. We’ve a fancy wedding to go to in June and someone needs a new suit….or.

Entitled to wear the Royal Stewart and Gunn clan kilts here’s the Hunting Stewart.

A lot of thought and deliberation has gone into this decision. Stay tuned.

Gunner and I were walking around the Elgin cathedral on a gorgeous day. (Not today, today is gray, just like they tell Scotland will be. Usually they are liars, as the weather changes multiple times a day, but today…not yet)

The information you find on gravestones and monuments tells such a tale. I hope you can read it.

We’ve been praying for months for the health and welfare of this Little Sister.

…and these Grandparents are so blessed.

Thanks for being along with us on this journey and for blowing away my blues.

May you be blessed this day too.

Moving to a foreign country is almost like having teenagers again. The things I don’t ‘know’ are mind boggling. The only difference is that no one is actually informing me of my lack of knowledge. I’m just keenly aware of it.

I do not want to be the ‘ugly American’ living in Scotland. I want to be a good guest. I wasn’t sure if it is acceptable to hang ‘all’ of the laundry on the line. When I ended up sitting next to a kind older lady at church I said,

“Say, can I ask you a question?” I muttered quietly. “Is it considered acceptable to hang my husband’s boxers on the washing line? I try to keep them sort of hidden in the middle, but I’m not sure if I’m being rude to the neighbors.”

‘Oh, yes. It’s okay. Everybody hangs all of their laundry out.’

…but I still try to keep them hidden in the middle.

We hosted our first guests for lunch. I was determined to make them some ‘regular’ Ellen food. Taco chicken soup and Blondie’s for dessert. (Blondie’s were Mom’s way of making chocolate chip cookies in pan form). I have yet to find any chocolate chip cookies in North East Scotland and believe it or not but one cannot live by Shortbread alone.

I was only able to make the soup, because I brought back crucial dietary supplies from America in February.

I didn’t bring back Semi-sweet chocolate chips, as I’d mistakenly assumed everyone had them. Semi-sweet chocolate chips being a mainstay of civilization. I got schooled.

We could not find them anywhere and I was ready to give up. My Loving Spouse stopped at one more store and came back with these very small packages of dark choc chips.

I know the recipe by heart, so I started pouring the chips into measuring cups and to my relief they made the necessary 2 cups. The block of butter was 500 g. I needed 2 cups. Thank you Google for figuring out that one. 2 eggs is still 2 eggs. Baking soda is Bicarbonate of Soda. Everything else was mixed and stirred and looking close to normal. I had to call in reinforcements to figure out how to bake it properly in the oven using Celsius.

The lunch and dessert I am told was ‘fine’. Not American ‘fine’, which means just ‘okay’. Scottish ‘fine’ which means very good.

I also learned a new meaning to an old word. “Loonie” which means a small boy.

There’s two loonies next door who have already learned to love Blondie’s. We’re delighted to have kids nearby and I’m determined to not just be the ‘loonie’ (American style) gal next door, but one who is kind, encouraging and comes prepared to share American sweets.

I’ve also learned that in the land of tea, Amazon delivers almost anything.

I might not be much wiser, but I am blessed.

We’ve only been in Park View for 2 1/2 weeks. It feels like so much longer, but that might be because we’re still sleeping on an air mattress. This would be our second air mattress, as the other one died in the middle of the night. It didn’t die completely, that would have been so easy. It only died enough that one could not sleep on it..or get out of it. We were like two whales stuck in a swimming pool trying to jump out. Two more nights to go…

We shipped very little from America, but what we did ship was precious to us. Happily everything arrived in good shape and we had smiles on our faces as we opened pictures of Team Offspring and family mementos. (Decent flatware, favorite tools and sewing machines)

We’ve had an adventure or two at the furniture auctions and put our trailer to very good use. Procuring all types of things we needed for our new home like chairs

and a few things we didn’t need like a leather covered decanter and a mahogany coal scuttle.

My Loving Spouse and I have an agreement. We can get carried away and bid on odd items as long as they cost less than 5 pounds.

In two different weeks we’ve managed to outfit our ‘wee’ kitchen and it is working perfectly for us.

Our church had a lunch after the service yesterday. I was asked to help ‘serve’. Of course I said yes and put my soup ladling, plate clearing skills to good work. When it was time to serve the pudding (dessert), and anyone asked me what something was I said, “I have no idea.”

(Except for the carrot cake and may I say it was delicious).

Wonderful swaths of daffodils are in abundance! We see them everywhere we go. What a joyful sign of spring. Scotland continues to surprise, delight and bless us so.

That’s how they say ‘moving’ here in the UK. It sounds a bit more dramatic, which is as it should be. Moving is dramatic. We (My Loving Spouse, myself and the dog) have moved in.

A fold up table, 2 folding chairs, an air mattress and the dog bed are the main items we are currently living with. Oh, and my fabulous new wheelbarrow.

Two of those buckets are currently holding socks and underwear.

Gunner loves it. He seemed to know that grassy ‘wee’ yard was made for him. He wasn’t too crazy about the new rule called “no dogs upstairs”, but the rule only seemed to last for 24 hours.

The ‘stuff’ we needed to move out of the last Arbnb. I was quite aware while shopping that we would need pillows. I just kept forgetting that I’d already bought some.

We’ve checked out our local ‘chippy’ called the Hook Line and Sinker and have confirmed it to be delicious.

To all my friends in the Real Estate world, our paperwork for the sale was a total of 10 pages, of which we signed 3. The inspection report is part of the listing, so you know what you’re getting when you make your offer. Our sellers were very kind to us, leaving us toilet rolls and a lovely gift.

Two gals from church gave us homemade goodies yesterday to welcome us into our new home. Another gift bag showed up Thursday amongst our boxes. It also was a gift bag full of goodies from a friend at church.

I teased her that we’d been broken into and thanked her for their thoughtfulness.

She said, “Welcome to village life. If you leave your back door unlocked you never know what you’ll find”

…and we are blessed.

We were up bright and early to get to the auction in Dingwall. We were concerned about how we were going to get everything back to our storage unit an hour away. On the early morning 2 hour drive we discussed that we were not buying any clocks, sewing machines and that there was a limit to old wooden boxes. We had big plans for all of the auction ‘wins’, we would soon procure. It would require another trip to Dingwall to collect everything, but we were okay with that.

We need not have worried.

We were out bid.

Often and by a lot! It was quite a learning experience. We did however, get at least one very exciting ‘old box’.

This box was on the list of bids. My Loving Spouse went a wee over budget to snag it for me. I know exactly where it will go. Everything else? Not only did we get out bid by about 3 times our budget, but I can’t even copy the pictures for you from their website.

My Loving Spouse did a ‘rescue bid’ on these fireplace tools at 2 pounds. We’ll keep the one poker we need and take the rest to a charity shop.

We added this small bench/seat to the list at the last minute. It too was a ‘rescue bid’ at 2 pounds. I will recover the top and My Loving Spouse will refurbish the wood.

…and that’s all folks…until next weeks auction..

May you all be blessed.

Our new little house, Park View sits on a rise. When 3 brothers built 3 stone homes on this street there was nothing else around, so it did indeed have many views. We are anxiously and joyfully looking forward to moving in and making it our home.

You’ve asked for more pictures so I’ve snagged these from two listings. Our living room….

We’re now doing some serious shopping. Frying pans, bath towels and what we are hoping is a quality air mattress to use until we find a bed we like.

Entry…very exciting…I’ve never had an entry before.

…we needed a teapot…well, we need a kettle as well, but I’m still pursuing the options as I’m stuck between style and price. The teapot is about as cute as they get, thank you Mary Berry. Yes, the previous host of The Great British Bake Off has her own kitchen ware.

Here is the kitchen as it is set up now as an Arbnb…

Most of the house is a ‘blank canvas’. We’ll be able to make it our own with only a few alterations. “Few” compared to Glory Farm.

We’ve found a church home, for which we are so grateful. One couple even invited us home for lunch prior to our finding Park View.

Soon to be my sewing room. I sure do miss my sewing machine.

Our new friends were so excited for us to find this lovely cottage in such a lovely village. Imagine our surprise when they called a few days later, as they realized that the Park View was the built by her Great Grandfather and her mother had fond memories of getting a turn in the hammock when they would visit.

You can just see her peaking over the hammock’s edge. The other builders, were her Great Great Uncles of course. We know that part of this coincidence is village life, but when you’ve only made one friend so far, well it is just a God thing.

We opted to buy a trailer instead of a second car. The trailer will be put to good use as we continue to hunt and gather all the items one needs to make a home. Speaking of a hunt, there is a furniture auction tomorrow. We’ve got our eye on an assortment of lovely things.

…and we are so very, very blessed.