New Life Old Farmers

While we were in Whitehills, we were invited to a Lifeboat Fundraiser dinner and horse racing. In all fishing villages, manning the Lifeboats is a noble and needed calling.

The restaurant was festively decorated.

Sitting right along the harbor.

We honestly didn’t know what we were going to, but when invited we said, “Yes.” We need to get to know people in this little village as many homes never come on the market and are sold through word of mouth. We need to be known.

I reminded My Loving Spouse,

‘Remember to be on our best behavior. We don’t know who’s related to who. No houses we’ve seen are ‘bad’, just not ‘right for us’. We don’t want what happened in Ellensburg to happen again. Where I told my Someday To Be Best Friend, that My Girl’s teacher was maybe not a good fit. She then told me that the teacher was her Sister-in-law!’

We bought our raffle tickets. Hopping we didn’t win anything ‘big’ as nothing else will fit in the car.

It was a bit of a hoot, that all the men were drinking Mexican beer, but when in Scotland….

We had no idea what to expect, but we’d brought our money and were ready to give to a good cause. All I can say is that the Scots know how to have fun. There were 9 horse races. Each race had been sponsored and the sponsor named the horses.

Everyone picked the name they liked best for their horse and bet. All races were £ 2.00 each. All money was split between the winners and the Lifeboats. Then we watch a race taped, hollering for our horses of course.

We all love a winner. My Loving Spouse and I winning once each, giving our betting/contribution funds a bit of a boost.

Lots of upbeat music, jokes and food. It was good fun and new friends were made.

My Girl had asked if we’d made any friends and the reality is that when you move all the time, you cannot make connections.

We really like Whitehills, so before we left for the next 5 weeks we decided we needed to make ourselves known again at the pub.

A bit of dinner and pint of cider.

We take the one everyone likes best. We’re totally okay with ‘using’ our dog to find us a home. The waitress always reminds us she’ll dogsit, while some of the boys at the bar sneak him dog treats.

…and so we are blessed. Excited to find our home in 2024 and welcome you to it.

Happy New Year (Hogmanay) from Scotland.

The amazement that we are actually living in Scotland has finally arrived. I’m not sure why it took so long, perhaps the emotions and the work that went into leaving everything and everyone behind has something to do with my delay.

My wonder and amazement, however, is here. It especially hits me as I walk Gunner along the North Sea. The North Sea!!! Seriously! Just walking my dog, throwing his ball and strolling…here by the North Sea.

We are currently staying in a lovely little cottage in Whitehills, Banff, Scotland. We will be here for a month, and are very happy to stay in one place so we can celebrate the Christmas season. Hanging a wreath and having a sparkling tree in the window is an element of our joy.

Our ‘things’ have landed in the UK and are currently in storage in Aberdeen, waiting for us to have a home to send them too. Our Christmas decorations are therefore in Aberdeen. We’re keenly aware that when we leave here in three weeks, everything has to fit back into the car. I’m happily decorating with what we have at hand.

Stocking toppers we bought at a fundraiser. Currently we have no ‘stockings’, but we do have wine glasses…and egg cups..

Remember, we’re in Scotland and creativity is everywhere. The following decoration was certainly a first for me.

We’ve been checking out every little harbor along the coast line and dreaming of a boat. Wait…let me back that boat train up. My Loving Spouse is dreaming of a boat. I’m dreaming of a boat because I love him. I’m just hoping I end up liking his boat, that it doesn’t make me sick and that he doesn’t need me to be able to run it (drive it, steer it, sail it whatever) every time he wants to go out in it.

Every little historical harbor is charming, but I favor the ones with a cafe or pub nearby.

Weeks ago My Loving Spouse said to me, “Whose Arnold Clark?”

‘What?‘

Then I saw the bumper stickers. Clearly we assumed, a politician.

‘I wonder what he’s running for?’

“Perhaps that group that wants Scotland to breakaway from England”

‘Is there an election coming up?’

Please remember at this point we still weren’t sure which bathroom (loo, toilet) to use. We certainly didn’t know anything about politics.

Then we found someone, who was in favor of Arnold Clark….and so I asked him what Arnold Clark was running for. He laughed and laughed. (See how good I am for the Scottish people.)

Arnold Clark?

He’s a car salesman.

Okay, well that makes sense.

Here’s my favorite sign of the week outside the Loo in the shopping center of Inverness.

There’s even a website for the awards.

I wonder where they held the banquet. Do you think they invited Arnold Clark?

May all of you my friends… be blessed.

I believe we will look back on this time and think of it as the ‘in between’ of leaving the US and finding our new home. We’re here, but we have as they say ‘no fixed abode’. Having no real address makes things more difficult. Items you cannot get without an address:

• Bank account
• New phone
• Membership cards at stores, especially the Tesco club card (major grocery store)
• Mail…(duh)

We spend a lot of time looking at towns and villages to find our right ‘fit’. One constant to them all are the people. The Scots are the friendliest, nicest bunch ever. If you have a dog, they like you even better. I went into the hardware store. They were a bit offended that Gunner and My Loving Spouse waited outside.

‘Och, is that your dog? He can come in. Let me give him a treat.’

Gunner is walked daily. We never go anywhere without poo bags in our pockets. Should I forget to bring his ball, he will find a stick. He has impressive confidence in my throwing ability.

Because of my walks with Gunner, I needed a warm hat. I don’t really look good in hats. It has something to do with the size of my head. (Grateful for the lack of my brothers being able to comment at this point). I needed My Loving Spouse’s help to find a nice hat. Here a few of his loving comments from the past hat trials.

• Why are you wearing a tea cozy?
• There’s a dead squirrel on your head.
• Is it suppose to look like that?
• It’s a bit pointy.

I went with the hat I found in the children’s section. There was one that had a tractor on it, but I resisted the temptation to purchase that, buying the one that drew the best praise from My Loving Spouse.

• That one’s not too bad

We are quite aware we’re trying to buy a home at the wrong time of the year, but that doesn’t keep us from looking…every single day. It can get one down, but we know in the new year that there will be a better inventory. We decided to go look at something else for a change.

Cheering one of us up.

Now he has something else to search for.

I’m a tad embarrassed to say how long it took us to figure this next bit out. In our defense, we usually saw these shops as we were zipping by in the car. Our brains saw

“Hairy Cow”

Scotland’s equivalent to ‘Dunkin’ Doughnuts’.

Yep, okay, we’ve got it now. It’s someone’s name.

We’re currently in Nairn. We can hear the seagulls in the morning and occasionally the waves. The huge green is used daily by dogs and people and it is beautiful.

We can see the sunset over the Black Isle of Scotland, if we’re out walking.

…and we are blessed.

…and this sign cracks me up.

I haven’t done much driving so far. Visibility with the car packed to the roof was an issue, that and the whole driving on the other side of the road from the other side of the car on occasionally flooded country roads reality.

We’ve been leaving our own little trail throughout the UK. We left two suitcases at the Shepherd’s hut making the remaining three so heavy we hardly ever haul them into our rental cottages. We’ve a carry-on with a few days of clothes and just keep wearing and washing those over and over. We left the ginormous dog crate at 5 Distillery Cottage. We’ve replaced Gunner’s traveling accommodations with a lovely new bed, because we might have accidentally left his bed back at Auntie’s in Ely, Cambridgeshire.

We try not to argue when we pack up the car and leave, but we do say things like, “Okay, then next time you can do it.”

(Random lovely picture. MacDuff. Part of the loveliness was that I was also just served a very lovely latte.)

My first driving experience was about 2 miles. There were two loud screams, one from each of us, so that was one scream per mile. Our drive to Ellon went much better. 17 miles through the country on a sunny day, no flooding and almost never anyone behind me. All I had to do was not run into anything. There were zero screams, greatly reducing my screams per mile ratio. There were a few “You’re getting a bit close to the curb and one gasp.”

I got us into the town and parked without incident, immediately rewarding myself with this.

It was called a Stout cake. I don’t know why it was called that, but I was assured that it would not actually taste like stout ie. Guinness.

We’ve been staying in this steading, old barn building. Five miles outside Turriff or 3 miles outside of MacDuff or in other words in the middle of nowhere. Isn’t it charming?

It was all downhill once we went inside. Cold, not cool. Sort of dirty, not clean and dark. A wet room bathroom that made me feel as if i were using a toilet in a garage and the water was tepid. The bed…well, sunken in the middle, so the only way to try to sleep without falling into the abyss was to try and hang onto the outside edge. We did our best. We really did. We had booked a week. After 4 nights our backs were a wreck and we were so depressed, we called it quits. Booked a cottage for 3 nights in Inverness leaving behind our new French press and an electrical adapter in our hurry to leave.

The Day Of Remembrance

In the USA we call it Veterans Day. This last Sunday was Remembrance Sunday.

We were in Portsoy. Our favorite village so far, with a population of approximately 2000.

The parade began at 10:45 and any shops that had been opened shuttered their doors.

The parade was 2 blocks long, one block up and one block back.

With scout troops and the pipes and drums of Portsoy.

Reverent and moving.

Respectful and important…remembering.

Not just this village, but in all the villages we drive through are memorials with their poppy wreaths.

There was church and hymns and tears…and we are blessed.

We’ve made it to the Moray Coast.

We’ve quickly learned how anxious we are to ‘land’. To find our spot, our village/town/city, but most especially our home. We spent almost a week in Hopeman. We were on a hill just over the playground and woke up to a marvelous view.

We could stand on the hill and throw Gunner his ball down below. This slide made us long to have the little ones we love here with us even more than usual.

We are now staying in one spot for a week at a time. I’ve worked out the arbnb/vrbo etc system and advise anyone traveling here to use Skyes Cottages. They are cheaper, offer better service and don’t advertise what they don’t have.

I hadn’t really thought of the UK as a ‘foreign’ land. After all we speak the same language.

A few things I’ve learned:

• Wee in Scotland means little
• Wee in England means peeing. Best not to mix those up.
• Pants are underwear or rather knickers. Do not tell someone you like their ‘pants’
• You don’t say ‘restroom’ you say, ‘loo’ or ‘toilet’

In reality everything is different. We two grown adults are still struggling to use the washing machine, dryer and dishwasher at our current cottage. (We finally made an emergency phone call to get the soap in the right dispenser).

Yesterday I thought I had ordered a bacon sandwich with cheese for lunch. Much to my surprise it was a baked potato with ham and cheese. My Loving Spouse offered me a taste of oat cake, because it was a very traditional Scottish accompaniment to his soup.

“I’ll try it when every single part of my life is not different,” I replied. It’s possible my learning curve is jammed up.

Things I’ve hit my head on more than once:

• The ceiling
• The shower stall door
• The back door of the car

We are currently near the town of Banff and that is the North Sea. Gunner and I had a beautiful walk this morning.

The weather was a crispy 37 degrees Fahrenheit (I haven’t figured out Celsius yet). It was brisk, but I was dressed for the weather.

Then I came upon this group of gals.

I had seen them gathering in the parking lot with ski hats, long trousers (because we don’t say pants) and large coats on. I thought they were going for a group walk.

I’d ask you to send me an emergency bag of Lays potato chips with ALL the salt. The crisps (chips) here only have less salt or salt that was just waved around the bag for effect. However, we’ve now spent a week trying to get a Post Office Box or General delivery, which is called Poste Restante. When we’ve asked the Post Office and the Royal Mail how we go about setting one up we get the kindest response.

“Sorry, mate, I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about.”

Everything is different, except the most import thing…God’s love for us and his promise that he will never leave us…and so we are blessed. Slightly confused with a bump on my head, but blessed just the same.

(Guest contributor Gunner THE Dog)

It was an uncanny feeling as the only home I’d known was obviously being dismantled.

The most stressful part was when we got to the smelly noisy cargo place. There was a LOT of anxiety and frantic phone calling. Mom was calling my favorite Farm sitter and saying things like can you take Gunner until we work this out! Dad was on another line talking about the Vet and dates entered wrong and they weren’t going to take me…and it was raining. Apparently it all got handled, but it literally took hours. Then it got worse.

I didn’t realize it at the time, but my parents were also getting on a big smelly noisy machine the next day.

They keep telling me that I will never have to do that again. I am a UK dog now. Boy was I happy to see them. Boy, were they happy to see me!

Everything got better after that. I quite liked staying at my Aunty’s house. She likes good dogs, so I was on my very best behavior.

I was quite content, but my parents were a tad stressed. Mostly the words were cars, insurance, licenses, you can’t talk to anyone, every thing is online and I just want to pay them. There were a few new words I learned, but I’d better not repeat them. Aunty said some of my favorite words…walk and ball. The village sports field was nearby and I made use of it daily. Uncle said some of my parents favorite words…’can I make you a cup of tea and shall I get you a gin?’ All in all, we were well taken care of. We got the car and packed it up and set off. Believe it or not, but I am quite happy in here wherever my humans go, I want to go.

We’re on our way north. We spent two nights on a farm! We all felt right at home. We stayed in a Shepherd’s hut. It was very cozy as the rain beat down on the roof at night. My parents were very careful not to step on me when they got out of bed.

There were some new animals there as well.

We went to Whitley Bay. I think it was a dog beach. There were a bunch of humans also, but the dogs were having the most fun. It was lovely. Mom and Dad got a little frustrated trying to pay the toll for the tunnel, because as Dad says, “Why does every bloody thing have to be done online!”

Mom and Dad got excited to see this blue sign.

Apparently there is a place called THE Pub down the road. Dad asked the man if dogs would be welcome. He said, “Dogs are welcome everywhere.”

I think I’m going to like it here.

Woof, woof, woof. (Dog for “we are blessed” or ‘I need to go out’)

We are moving with a whirlwind of activity to get everything done. (Note to self, pay the water bill. Yes, that bit was forgotten.)

The items being shipped to Scotland filled only 1/3 of my sewing room.

The items being sold have almost all been picked up. I’ve a chair and an end table to use at the end of the day.

We’ve squeezed in two quick trips to THE kids in Spokane and in Utah with the truck filled with treasures.

A few final rounds of hide n’ seek, trips for ice cream and the park….hugs and tears.

We’re tired, a tad bit overwhelmed and

so blessed by those we have in our lives.

I’ve been saving a LOT of good stuff. Stuff with potential and plenty of patina. ‘Some’ may call it junk. Our buyers clearly state that they want all of our sheds, workshops and barn empty. Empty as in..no good stuff. I’m pretty sure that they have no vision.

I begin calling my friends to share the good stuff.

My friends cannot believe that the buyers do not want all this good stuff. They keep offering me money, but giving it to them is so much fun.

They can’t believe their luck. My friends share my vision.

My Loving Spouse spends a lot of time shaking his head. He is very creative, but some days he has trouble seeing what I see.

We have to remove all of the bus seats we installed in the barn for our party. Out the way they came in, through the side door and lowered down. The first set goes to a lovely family of lively girls, who immediately want to know if they can go down attached to the rope and pulley as well.

Their parents are building them a fort and Mom sees the bus seating as perfect. I hope it is so perfect that she comes back for more.

We always knew that some of the very, very good stuff would need a new home before we left. Stewart the remaining chicken from our egg hatching school project 6 years ago would need a special home. Stewart is one tough old bird, surviving more than one rooster attack and fairly bald. He would need someone who loves their chickens. The young student My Loving Spouse has been driving for the last two years is just the boy. He comes out of the chicken coop kissing his new girl.

My children’s highchair is full of so many memories. I offer it to my Sweet Neighbor Sue who has her first grandchild, hoping so much that she’ll want it.

We are both thrilled that she does.

…and then our buyers do not make their deposit.

We’ve just given away all of our firewood and fall is coming.

Warning!

This next picture may cause emotional distress.

Two different friends let us know that if we need firewood they will happily share theirs with us and fill the wood rack.

…and we are blessed and this is hard.

(No word yet on helping to fill the wine rack, but I have faith.)

*Stuff, assorted is an ode to my mom. Betty was the Queen of organization. My brother and I, while helping clean her garage laughed so hard when we found the box labeled “stuff, assorted”. Clearly this was different from her regular ‘un-assorted stuff’. We might have never let her forget it.

Racing as kids, the wind up was always

‘Get Ready, Get Set… GO!’

or if someone was a wiseguy

‘Get Ready, Get Set…STOP’

but it was never ever,

‘Get Ready, Get Set…Wait’.

Waiting…that’s what we’ve been doing. Not moving yet. Waiting as we get the ‘opportunity’ to practice patience. Some days we sound like THE Granddaughter when visiting asking every few minutes, “When’s Uncle Riley going to get here?”

What do we do, since we can’t make a mess?

I weed…a lot! My Loving Spouse mows the lawn…a lot…and fixes the lawn mower…a lot.

Gunner and I go walking along the canal.

…or rather one of us goes ‘walking’.

I visit one of my smallest students and play cards.

My Loving Spouse searches for old sewing machines to restore (when he’s not fixing the lawn mower).

We haul a load of stuff across the road for a large garage sale. Any large furniture that won’t sell, like this old TV cabinet…

I turn it into a bar.

It is possible, that I am ahead of this relocating curve. Whenever we cannot find something we need, we realize that I’ve sold it.

The best benefit of having to wait was the opportunity for Number One Son’s family to visit. His very own Team Offspring weren’t here but a minute before they were in the pond.

Much to Gunner’s delight…

and mine.

This summer ‘waiting’ has given us the fun of our family sport…croquet.

Where a straw hat always gives you an extra point.

THE Granddaughter is small but mighty.

When THE Grandson wasn’t busy playing croquet, he was picking the very last raspberry.

For this time together, I am grateful beyond words.

…and so now we continue to wait.

…and although we are tired of waiting, we are blessed.