New Life Old Farmers

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.

Moving to another country is not for the faint of heart. It helps if you are determined (stubborn) have an adventurous streak and are married to someone even more adventurous and stubborn than yourself.

You would think moving to the UK when one of you is a British citizen would be simple. You would be wrong.

My Loving Spouse is currently an Ex-Pat. However, if he leaves the USA for a set number of days he will lose his green card, making it hard for us to return to the USA should we chose to do so.

Our Steps to leaving besides selling the house, etc. yada yada

Step 1 in leaving was his becoming an American citizen. A process for sure, but all in all one of our eaiser steps. (They waived his requirement to prove he could speak English.) They handed him an American flag and swore him in. He now has dual citizenship and is a regular patriot in both countries so he’s a Regular Pat.

Step 2 Filing for a UK Spousal Visa

Gone are the good old days where one could walk into a consulate, fill out the forms and talk to living people. Applying on line with Gov.UK took many hours, most questions required proof. Some of my favorite questions were:

• Have you and your spouse met? Do you have pictures of you together?
• Do you and your spouse live in the same home. Can you proof this by showing bills with both of your names on them?
• Do you have X amount of money? How long have you had it? Can you prove it?
• Where did X amount of money come from?

“Once the third party receives your documentation for your application you will hear back from the UK. This will take 8-12 weeks or 24.”

The third party instructions were so confusing!! I finally printed them out, crossing out what did not pertain to me and highlighted anything that did.

Great cheering was heard when we received this!

Now I will be an Ex-Pat

Step 3 Open a Scottish bank account.

While in Scotland we tried to open a bank account.

Day 1 went into Bank of Scotland. “Oh, the person who does international accounts is not here today. All you need is a UK passport. Come back tomorrow.”

Day 2 – ‘Oh, you do that on-line.’ Okay, we’ll do it when we get home.

On-line did not go well. My Loving Spouse spoke to the agent for the Bank of Scotland.

“Oh, Sir, you need to have proof of a Scotland address for 3 months.”

‘How am I going to pay my bills for 3 months, while I do not have a bank account?‘ My Regular Pat asked calmly and patiently (I like to think).

“I don’t know.”

Step 4 Open an International Bank Account

Fill out application. Prove you are a real person.

Currently waiting for an answer.

Step 5 Find a Dog shipper

So far this has been the most complicated and expensive. My Loving Spouse (Regular Pat) has spent upwards of 50 hours researching and speaking with the different providers who can get Gunner on the plane and off again at the right spot. Gone are the days of showing up with your baggage, a dog crate and a large yellow dog. One place said he was 3 pounds overweight and although we thought about putting him on a diet, the Vet said he didn’t have 3 pounds to lose. One dog shipper was going to cost over $5000. We’re feeling grateful to have one lined up at half that rate and we’ve explained to the dog that he is now an Ex-Pat-Dog and will not be coming home for any visits.

Step 6 Set up Shipping Agent

We are taking very, very little with us. However, we still are taking dear and important ‘stuff’, just not much of it and it has to be shipped. It will take 3 months and will be charged by volume. It won’t be cheap, so anything that costs more to ship than the item is worth will not go.

Step 6a Get rid of almost everything you own

WhoaNelly – sold

Pressure washer and my favorite wheel barrow – sold

T-posts, extra chicken wire, 2 bales of hay and a few fishing poles – donated to sweet family friends of ours and we were delighted…but this is just the beginning.

Step 7 Begin collecting those precious hugs

The hard part and the sweet part of living life. They call me their family..

I am his ‘Sis’

and ‘the daughter I never had’.

There are tears.

…and I am blessed.

Tomorrow begins the last week of school and it is quite bitter sweet. I’ve spent the last 10 years doing my best to encourage, teach and help others, especially the little people at my elementary school. Most of the time, I did it well. However, I’m far from perfect and some parents make my job (of being nice) extra difficult.

A 10 year old had walked 3 blocks to school. Her mother didn’t want her to walk home (the same 3 blocks). 20 minutes after school had been out, I called her mom to ask if she wanted the child to walk home. “No, she can wait in the office. (My office). I’ll be another 25 minutes. To which I said, ‘I’m not a babysitter.’ It was amazing how fast Mom got to the school. I’d like to say it was because she realized she was being rude, but she just wanted to get to school before the Principal left so she could tattle on me.

Luckily those parents are few and far between.

I will miss those little people who call me Miss Ellen. Who think I run the school or live in the library. To those who wave when they go through the hall or beam when I break the ‘rule’ and let them have an extra library book.

I will miss stepping in to do the morning announcements even though I don’t always stay on script. One day as I was in the middle of the announcements over the loud speaker, I was handed a note. “1 & 2 Boys” I knew what the message meant, but didn’t have time to add any finesse. I said, “First & Second grade boys. We have a problem. The bathroom’s a mess. Ahhh, stop peeing on the floor, it is no pee Friday!”

A few weeks ago, I started the morning announcement music with bagpipes and told the kids they were having haggis for lunch.

I will miss getting kids excited about books. I will miss helping our staff. I will miss being positive and a tad silly in the office with one of my Ellensburg Blessings, my BGF.

I will miss the loving gifts the kids make you. A necklace with a book charm on it. It was a tad too small and choked me a little bit, but it was a small price to pay. I’ll miss the birthday treats they share handed out with their grubby little hands.

I’ll miss making a difference (usually positive).

I have been so very blessed.

….and it will be tough to say ‘Good bye’.

…and just like that, Glory Farm is on the market.

We’re enjoying a bit of respite. Waiting ever so patiently (?) for the right buyer who will love this home and take their turn caring for it.

A little look back at what it looked like 11 years ago…

It is rewarding to look back.

However, how can I show you in one post what it took 11 years to do?

A host of memories…

I get lost as I look back, especially at Team Offspring in our early days.

Truly, I am grateful and

as life takes the next turn for us all…

I know we are truly blessed.

To God Be The Glory.