tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11455159846642731762024-03-04T21:57:43.875-08:00Mara's JourneysMara Sheahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00480187040864569478noreply@blogger.comBlogger20125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1145515984664273176.post-69688717103391796842021-01-27T12:39:00.006-08:002021-01-27T12:56:03.748-08:00Happy birthday, Robert Burns!<div class="separator"><span style="font-family: georgia;">January 25, 1759...the birthdate of Robert Burns. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE3jokEDp-2MAFl2uEr0o4taPUOK0nfnazKvp1E6DQJoIEACfJ2XC3dcZTRS50TXbODsbitqrOxIcIoJKglLDpgFz-aNUZ64OavA3vvT9uJzLwzi8L3AXgpnxs_SVWcUl_QFo0xd8hiCVS/s1964/1142056419_burns0001.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="Sketch of Burns by Lisa McDonald, 2009" border="0" data-original-height="1964" data-original-width="1309" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE3jokEDp-2MAFl2uEr0o4taPUOK0nfnazKvp1E6DQJoIEACfJ2XC3dcZTRS50TXbODsbitqrOxIcIoJKglLDpgFz-aNUZ64OavA3vvT9uJzLwzi8L3AXgpnxs_SVWcUl_QFo0xd8hiCVS/w133-h200/1142056419_burns0001.jpg" title="Sketch of Burns by Lisa McDonald, 2009" width="133" /></a></div><p></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">The<span><span style="color: #3d85c6;"> </span>'<a href="https://electricscotland.com/burns/ploughman_poet.htm" style="color: #3d85c6;" target="_blank">ploughman poet</a>'</span><span style="color: #3d85c6;"> </span>of Scotland is celebrated all over the world in a month or so of Burns Suppers, with variations on the same program that includes bagpipes 'piping in the haggis' as it is carried proudly into the dining hall, the Selkirk Grace said before eating, the famous address to the haggis, a toast to the 'immortal memory' of Robert Burns himself, a toast to the lassies and of course, the 'reply', and music, whisky, dancing, and readings from Burns' works. (The National Library of Scotland posted a link to a short 1953 film of Burns'<span style="color: #3d85c6;"> </span><i><a href="https://movingimage.nls.uk/film/0458" target="_blank"><span style="color: #3d85c6;">Tam o' Shanter</span></a></i>--worth watching!) The Burns Night tradition began not long after Burns died in 1796. It is a wonderful and companionable way to celebrate in the midst of a dreary time of year.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">I found an interesting and well-written guide to having your own Burns Supper event <a href="https://www.scotland.org/events/burns-night/how-to-hold-your-own-burns-supper" target="_blank"><span style="color: #3d85c6;">here</span></a>. Lots of interesting tidbits--about Burns, traditions, the lovely Selkirk Grace:</span></p><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Some hae meat an' canna eat<br /></span><span style="font-family: georgia;">An' some wad eat that want it<br /></span><span style="font-family: georgia;">But we hae meat an' we can eat<br /></span><span style="font-family: georgia;">An' sae let the Lord be thankit.</span></span></div><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">The Selkirk Grace was around long before Burns. But he is said to have recited the blessing at a dinner given by the Earl of Selkirk, hence its name. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><i>Gratitude. </i></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">This January has been the usual kind of midwinter chilly month, a time of waiting – for a bit of warmer sun to encourage bulbs to spring forth; for a newer, kinder leadership; for a chance to draw a deeper breath and feel that things will be all right. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3YYpxuIYwJFB1qKRs3X6f_MdenzHPjaOcafJ2Tay6uE-iMiv__VCgnFX6Yl02GJq_cu9NbdwJP15udRbeYVLU_udzu5t9247BmtlJWGKeiX2eXVzTlyJ_I8ghbYy-H9BLhGNd_ZuwEsQK/s2048/20210114_163957.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1152" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3YYpxuIYwJFB1qKRs3X6f_MdenzHPjaOcafJ2Tay6uE-iMiv__VCgnFX6Yl02GJq_cu9NbdwJP15udRbeYVLU_udzu5t9247BmtlJWGKeiX2eXVzTlyJ_I8ghbYy-H9BLhGNd_ZuwEsQK/w225-h400/20210114_163957.jpg" width="225" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Since last Spring, as the reality of the pandemic settled into our consciousness, I have been taking photographs each day of things I find that bring me joy--flowers, birds, clouds, sunrises, sunsets. I post them on Instagram and Facebook to offset some of the rampant negativity. </span><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">As we wend our way through winter, I feel like I am having trouble finding 'interesting' pictures to share. No spectacular flowers yet. None of the usual 'wow' pictures that pretty much stage themselves. I have to look a little closer, a little more microscopically to see patterns and beauty. </span><p></p><p></p><span style="font-family: georgia;">It's a good exercise for me--finding something remarkable and beautiful every day and sharing it. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">So here are a few of my recent finds. Nothing earth-shaking or worthy of publication, just glimpses of a bit of the world as I see it.</span></div><div><div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7WUNigzhdPIeSdswmVNNlLiDTl7uuow4aACTx-iMDG7bIcn-QpZD13EtFg5Wg6x9CEZzqVLnV0Nv4WtZ7yE6gW4MfHUvcmw6jiDVFRb-PZ-UkPNX_ttXoYa7dcmv2XP_18Xg4k-sCJc-_/s2048/20210114_162627.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1152" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7WUNigzhdPIeSdswmVNNlLiDTl7uuow4aACTx-iMDG7bIcn-QpZD13EtFg5Wg6x9CEZzqVLnV0Nv4WtZ7yE6gW4MfHUvcmw6jiDVFRb-PZ-UkPNX_ttXoYa7dcmv2XP_18Xg4k-sCJc-_/w225-h400/20210114_162627.jpg" width="225" /></a><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">I love late afternoon light - the 'golden hour'. Edges of things become sharper, more dramatic. What I sometimes fail to see at noontime pops out and is suddenly rather magical. (And as my eyesight isn't getting better, this is all the more fun. Cataract surgery is in my near future...)</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Sometimes I don't have my camera in my pocket, and almost inevitably that is when something really interesting appears. Then I must rely on words to relay that story. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">I was sitting on a garden bench last week in an almost-warm afternoon, and heard a familiar bird song. Bluebirds? I hadn't seen a one since September. But there was more than one, a lot more. I looked up to see a beech tree, still clad with its crispy brown leaves, inhabited by at least 15 bluebirds having a conversation amongst themselves, not in the least disturbed by this lowly human watching them. Bright flashes of blue amongst the beech leaves...it was lovely. Turns out one of my neighbors has a feeder that they use as a communal hangout nearby. They are all around her front porch!</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">And then there are the more down-to-earth denizens...bright ornamental kale!</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh14aiyW8HRqNlfRyOWOnAF1YwOEQQLWIrt3F6MFNkl1sR-QRKcoHN1sQwMdJUKxre-9jAGkFaJYSQNzJbnFyAGaLNlgGq3ca_4wRbyRy6gIGZzyF9voPQ1WOSMKt-luicjfWJZI5AnebL4/s5184/IMG_1410.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="5184" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh14aiyW8HRqNlfRyOWOnAF1YwOEQQLWIrt3F6MFNkl1sR-QRKcoHN1sQwMdJUKxre-9jAGkFaJYSQNzJbnFyAGaLNlgGq3ca_4wRbyRy6gIGZzyF9voPQ1WOSMKt-luicjfWJZI5AnebL4/w640-h426/IMG_1410.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div></div></div></div><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><div><div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">There are always interesting patterns to see, as in the winged elm trees and reflections in the small lakes I often walk beside... </span></div></div></div></div></div></blockquote><div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyeeAylYx9G0k3dVZADwNpvJ4kBR0CsOs9cmvihTzlkUefWcjDpd2m2_8Yu88CtJKk8Vq4SIOiLoedMurF4qAyr765yXQSVBJnDirecdUa4fQ4o8CN_G9bvPFsjQlUZjdLqs_-Lyh5tMSU/s4032/20210114_165302.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyeeAylYx9G0k3dVZADwNpvJ4kBR0CsOs9cmvihTzlkUefWcjDpd2m2_8Yu88CtJKk8Vq4SIOiLoedMurF4qAyr765yXQSVBJnDirecdUa4fQ4o8CN_G9bvPFsjQlUZjdLqs_-Lyh5tMSU/s4032/20210114_165302.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2268" data-original-width="4032" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyeeAylYx9G0k3dVZADwNpvJ4kBR0CsOs9cmvihTzlkUefWcjDpd2m2_8Yu88CtJKk8Vq4SIOiLoedMurF4qAyr765yXQSVBJnDirecdUa4fQ4o8CN_G9bvPFsjQlUZjdLqs_-Lyh5tMSU/w400-h225/20210114_165302.jpg" width="400" /><br /></a><span style="font-family: georgia; text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></span><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1152" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAsfZY0cHT3gUo0iR6yRHkTgct9JvsUViRrKiUSqfz_mjH59ZZ0yYDKpwG3IDlMj6x1em1ezv1x86fNq-LV9JNciww5vlIcGOWQwBNsI0ccHLEQWbp_MRnWO6S2hFy3ZCFYrgTI7t_ZQPc/w225-h400/20210114_162748.jpg" width="225" /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <span style="font-family: georgia; text-align: left;">Paths along the lakes and ponds are well cleared, but not manicured. </span><span style="font-family: georgia; text-align: left;"> </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_X-Mu14tuIJcSvJDz_rcnlGcPIFw3xn3gvY4n-9aTL7yXrCmAy2wHx1pTORXBvA6NZ2L937GK8Z8YHsSRLVKtOjZU76MHeEBo0OTLgcWg9kvhejnJP5RPAQ_usPRSRuHu8RQKqrfT5pza/s4032/20210111_100254.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2268" data-original-width="4032" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_X-Mu14tuIJcSvJDz_rcnlGcPIFw3xn3gvY4n-9aTL7yXrCmAy2wHx1pTORXBvA6NZ2L937GK8Z8YHsSRLVKtOjZU76MHeEBo0OTLgcWg9kvhejnJP5RPAQ_usPRSRuHu8RQKqrfT5pza/w640-h360/20210111_100254.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYDtNbqDolGmGTAgs00kzBuXpDN0U1CMaqjQL5VBCXZ4r6hx-FBrBjUg5JkBYRt4zyG1_8obdZcCYmMlg0jwgQOdZteOG7gre1DnFZy4ssKEnceuF7S9goaXoytL2PntEsjQzHRVRDfS7s/s4032/20210114_163231.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="2268" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYDtNbqDolGmGTAgs00kzBuXpDN0U1CMaqjQL5VBCXZ4r6hx-FBrBjUg5JkBYRt4zyG1_8obdZcCYmMlg0jwgQOdZteOG7gre1DnFZy4ssKEnceuF7S9goaXoytL2PntEsjQzHRVRDfS7s/w225-h400/20210114_163231.jpg" width="225" /></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtjnknmxB0eH4j8vnRmBRjFdxAv9ukMAHyl54EB_JEwtBQXwmsmpx4XTiOOw4T7mxS17newHCndCYSlcwytVtxO-q7F3UuoG_JkPwyvF6HxH0-s6gNxhqMDYaiCO6mfUf5as1ZNkMUKo2Y/s4032/20210114_162826.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2268" data-original-width="4032" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtjnknmxB0eH4j8vnRmBRjFdxAv9ukMAHyl54EB_JEwtBQXwmsmpx4XTiOOw4T7mxS17newHCndCYSlcwytVtxO-q7F3UuoG_JkPwyvF6HxH0-s6gNxhqMDYaiCO6mfUf5as1ZNkMUKo2Y/w400-h225/20210114_162826.jpg" width="400" /></a></div></div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_X-Mu14tuIJcSvJDz_rcnlGcPIFw3xn3gvY4n-9aTL7yXrCmAy2wHx1pTORXBvA6NZ2L937GK8Z8YHsSRLVKtOjZU76MHeEBo0OTLgcWg9kvhejnJP5RPAQ_usPRSRuHu8RQKqrfT5pza/s4032/20210111_100254.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><br /></a><div style="text-align: right;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_X-Mu14tuIJcSvJDz_rcnlGcPIFw3xn3gvY4n-9aTL7yXrCmAy2wHx1pTORXBvA6NZ2L937GK8Z8YHsSRLVKtOjZU76MHeEBo0OTLgcWg9kvhejnJP5RPAQ_usPRSRuHu8RQKqrfT5pza/s4032/20210111_100254.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><br /></a></div></div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div></span><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><p style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjFFUxPjUkQuQ6MU6PNnziN8lLP4c3o9ni42suwFt_vepmWWqLy8SUHwjVCXyxjR5v6Lby4arJML6dczi7iLAQXZp6cjsuAAxcc6NEeBFYqq2Ng7d0u3whINTT-Yq5CUrmlcXUw1gwBHkf/s4032/20210111_100154.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; font-family: Times; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="2268" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjFFUxPjUkQuQ6MU6PNnziN8lLP4c3o9ni42suwFt_vepmWWqLy8SUHwjVCXyxjR5v6Lby4arJML6dczi7iLAQXZp6cjsuAAxcc6NEeBFYqq2Ng7d0u3whINTT-Yq5CUrmlcXUw1gwBHkf/w225-h400/20210111_100154.jpg" width="225" /></a><span style="font-family: georgia;">Until a year or two ago, there were several beavers who enjoyed pruning the smallish trees along the edge of the water. Sadly, the beavers needed to be relocated to a place where it didn't matter if they caused a little ponding and flooding in folks' back yards. But evidence of the beavers' work still remains...</span></p></blockquote><p> </p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><p style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0arbxvuu7x2PTbw1PG0dMHJ3xM0j3uyHiawO0vYqGLE80F2tVUsgC6QjqS7fONfrPo9K6eWgE-SiBBWq_RktA0NLOzx08Jgo3tdRtRIQJa7HgLP1dNKqWRCpc3wqwQWJJkyhyLJLtAegx/s4032/20210111_100203.jpg" style="clear: left; display: inline; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="2268" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0arbxvuu7x2PTbw1PG0dMHJ3xM0j3uyHiawO0vYqGLE80F2tVUsgC6QjqS7fONfrPo9K6eWgE-SiBBWq_RktA0NLOzx08Jgo3tdRtRIQJa7HgLP1dNKqWRCpc3wqwQWJJkyhyLJLtAegx/w225-h400/20210111_100203.jpg" width="225" /></a></p></blockquote><p><br /></p><div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghJRCipYC1Dzy4IjNgpHhuqyTB6dEfuTwDUZ-7dsx3-kD95ylygEi5ZAO3hSckWy8TBi0mwr6wYY9jqZ4_Ec2QnTyIGKJiWtQTcbAUV26H_9Pf3-ZfUXmlm69UJREc3KxHAvRFVJ6_vBsf/s5184/IMG_1412.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="5184" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghJRCipYC1Dzy4IjNgpHhuqyTB6dEfuTwDUZ-7dsx3-kD95ylygEi5ZAO3hSckWy8TBi0mwr6wYY9jqZ4_Ec2QnTyIGKJiWtQTcbAUV26H_9Pf3-ZfUXmlm69UJREc3KxHAvRFVJ6_vBsf/s320/IMG_1412.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: georgia;">If I think to look down at my feet as I walk (the saying 'dig where you stand' comes to mind) I might notice other, more mundane evidence of animal life preserved in a sidewalk...</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">And when I'm back home, not walking and looking for bits of beauty outside, I'm continuing the unusual luxury of reading. </span></div><div><br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq8JYVODdmGi44RgUWZ80ihsWepv8VNJUQHDSN6ygUt_O9OmgKnHepLl8QNTNmumjbSnyLpmxcIe7zUI-orVCimsy9ExlUFeF84sbwmEoXSborF5UiAP44AmbJyfHuuBKclavQebQJ6N1N/s4032/20201227_193512.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2268" data-original-width="4032" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq8JYVODdmGi44RgUWZ80ihsWepv8VNJUQHDSN6ygUt_O9OmgKnHepLl8QNTNmumjbSnyLpmxcIe7zUI-orVCimsy9ExlUFeF84sbwmEoXSborF5UiAP44AmbJyfHuuBKclavQebQJ6N1N/w640-h360/20201227_193512.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Last night, I finished reading Nan Shepherd's little gem of a book, </span><i style="font-family: georgia;">The Living Mountain</i><span style="font-family: georgia;">. It bears a second (and third, and fourth, etc.) reading. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">I'd heard about<span style="color: #3d85c6;"> <a href="https://www.undiscoveredscotland.co.uk/usbiography/s/nanshepherd.html" target="_blank"><span style="color: #3d85c6;">Nan Shepherd</span></a> </span>when I was living in Aberdeen (she taught English literature at Aberdeen University until she retired in 1956), but I never took the time to read her novels, or this little book, which I just discovered a few weeks ago. I thought it was a book about the </span><a href="https://www.visitcairngorms.com/visit-cairngorms-social-wildlife/" style="font-family: georgia;" target="_blank"><span style="color: #3d85c6;">Cairngorms</span></a><span style="font-family: georgia;">, the mountains I drove around in a great deal while I was there, talking with people who lived in little towns at the foot of the mountains. So I was surprised to find that it </span><i style="font-family: georgia;">is</i><span style="font-family: georgia;"> about the mountains, and yet not just about the mountains. It is more about the connectedness of people and nature, and how the natural world directly affects our own well-being. Nan Shepherd was a hill-walker, a visionary, and a startlingly good writer. Her prose is poetic, incisive, and visual. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">I want to read </span><i style="font-family: georgia;">The Living Mountain</i><span style="font-family: georgia;"> again; I missed so much this first time around.</span></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigUJLZotWobaActbypScJjVjXGjmDPhijhNiu2w8JpBsPx-5r_XRcgLJ3zmbVaUEe3_-qgWkgXj-vIjVVvxWOPBd3eQLS7qLX3PufVUituDiyBlknbXwd8N6aHZ4mb3Sa0qekp2wSwTdb_/s2048/20190409_120913.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigUJLZotWobaActbypScJjVjXGjmDPhijhNiu2w8JpBsPx-5r_XRcgLJ3zmbVaUEe3_-qgWkgXj-vIjVVvxWOPBd3eQLS7qLX3PufVUituDiyBlknbXwd8N6aHZ4mb3Sa0qekp2wSwTdb_/w640-h480/20190409_120913.jpg" width="640" /></a><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><span style="font-family: georgia;">And so here it is, two days after the official Burns Night celebrations, two days later than I had intended to finish this entry. As Burns wrote, 't</span><span style="font-family: georgia;">he best-laid schemes o' mice an' men gang aft agley'. (Burns Night celebrations are still ongoing, and will continue well into February!)</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Today I <i>will</i> finish this latest rambling series of thoughts and send it out into the world to my friends. Be well, stay safe. And thank you for reading this with me.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">All the best,</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Mara</span></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><br /></div>Mara Sheahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00480187040864569478noreply@blogger.com6Elon, NC, USA36.098276200000008 -79.51154337.7880423638211624 -114.6677933 64.408510036178853 -44.3552933tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1145515984664273176.post-2785329437834064882021-01-10T08:46:00.008-08:002021-01-10T08:49:11.062-08:00The first week of a new year<p>Well. </p><p>We made it through the first week of 2021. Let's hope the next few weeks are less exciting and stressful.</p><p>For John and me, it's been a good week for just staying put and catching up on things, focusing on the world in a more positive way. </p><p>I've been reading, a rare activity for me in the old days when I was driving all over the eastern US for gigs. I have more time for reading now, and I want to use it. Margaret Fay Shaw's <i>From the Alleghenies to the Hebrides</i> is a lovely picture of her life as she grew up in Pennsylvania and moved to South Uist, in the Outer Hebrides of Scotland (by way of Philadelphia, New York City, Glasgow, and Paris). I found myself thinking as I read how lucky she was to appear on the scene as important things happened, the dream of every photographer and writer, I suppose. She captures glimpses of old traditions, songs, ways of life, skills, and reflects on them; she herself was part of them, too, as an observer and participant. </p><p>Now I am reading about the Stevenson lighthouses in Scotland, how Robert Louis Stevenson's grandfather, father, uncles, and various other relations were lighthouse designers and engineers. From 1811 through the late 1930s, they were responsible for designing many important lighthouses in the Orkney Islands, Shetland, Lindisfarne, the Hebrides, the Isle of Man, and numerous lighthouses along Scotland's coastal waters. I can see where Robert Louis Stevenson's novels might have found their backdrops...he had a lot of opportunity to visit many of these lighthouses, although he disappointed his father a bit by becoming a man of letters rather than an engineer. An interesting mix of history and reflection, <i>The Lighthouse Stevensons</i> by Bella Bathurst is opening my eyes to a lot more than just the beautiful scenery of Scotland.</p><p></p> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQy7bWRjFBWqZXZigMcihPwYzjn0M6Kz1CqYiLpGEltKRv_TSmsfKH9reInxCNd4KRSGyEIxf0pyOgKWm-lKTc-pdqgwn9YUs8ilRBd9k_hDCcR8At2ecbqtWOIYBEh9iTfQEUy-x7P8q2/s2722/20210109_150332.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2722" data-original-width="1155" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQy7bWRjFBWqZXZigMcihPwYzjn0M6Kz1CqYiLpGEltKRv_TSmsfKH9reInxCNd4KRSGyEIxf0pyOgKWm-lKTc-pdqgwn9YUs8ilRBd9k_hDCcR8At2ecbqtWOIYBEh9iTfQEUy-x7P8q2/w170-h400/20210109_150332.jpg" width="170" /></a></div><div>Today, after a bit of snow decorated the shrubs overnight, I decided to catch up on a few things outside our new home, like cleaning out and refilling bird feeders, tidying up, and finding new homes for things stuffed unceremoniously into corners. One item I picked up was a quirky carved statue of St Francis that a friend gave to John years ago; it has hung outside of our house(s) for years, much beloved by animals. It looks like it, too...the squirrels long ago took a great liking to his face and hands.</div><div><br /></div><div><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoJghZlVMa5UYfUNbXXNCK8yiVhvwmJ90TSdyFp_J_b86UueUO8IR3dAB99-iws9hfegalGjDP2n85qzgAw4mg34wYsa1qhoIUmrR0WiqWkroEiExWP0XaES_HhffP56OB_4xCmSscDE6J/s864/St+Francis.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="864" data-original-width="486" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoJghZlVMa5UYfUNbXXNCK8yiVhvwmJ90TSdyFp_J_b86UueUO8IR3dAB99-iws9hfegalGjDP2n85qzgAw4mg34wYsa1qhoIUmrR0WiqWkroEiExWP0XaES_HhffP56OB_4xCmSscDE6J/w225-h400/St+Francis.jpg" width="225" /></a></p><div style="text-align: right;">St Francis is an unofficial patron saint around here, as shown by a nearby large statue of him that some of the resident workmen carved from a dead tree; it graces the corner of our street in Twin Lakes. He still has his face and hands, unlike our much-beloved carving.</div><div style="text-align: right;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I desperately needed a way to secure the top of a bird seed canister, a supposedly rodent-proof galvanized container that sits outside the back door on the patio. More than once I have found not one, but two squirrels sitting <i>inside</i> the container, chowing down on the bird seed. They are smart creatures; lids and locking handles don't even slow them down. Perhaps St Francis could help out. I wedged our well-chewed statue under the handle. It fit beautifully, and seems to work pretty darn well. Now our new guardian of the bird seed can makes it impossible (I believe) for a squirrel to actually get a grip on the lid and pry it off. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Nevertheless, they persist...</div><p></p></div><div><div><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEionV6a6Uskqau0ckcRk8qAY8YznWGqV6Pe1xNgybOmaySxN6tKUX3e1BkNciMrwVki_tjpuOm1E85-fIHfebSLhafzTQiJgSetuHgJ3rOCHagCxWY_JzJt4NpR2AwTYG5lgAr0Kfdn6NIm/s1083/St+Francis+and+squirrel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1083" data-original-width="864" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEionV6a6Uskqau0ckcRk8qAY8YznWGqV6Pe1xNgybOmaySxN6tKUX3e1BkNciMrwVki_tjpuOm1E85-fIHfebSLhafzTQiJgSetuHgJ3rOCHagCxWY_JzJt4NpR2AwTYG5lgAr0Kfdn6NIm/w319-h400/St+Francis+and+squirrel.jpg" width="319" /></a></div><p></p>(Apologies for the screen blur in this picture taken through the window. Squirrels have great peripheral vision, are fast, and are very good at leaving in a hurry.) I took this picture about 20 minutes after St Francis began his new job as bird seed guardian. </div><div><br /></div><div>There's probably a small council of squirrels meeting at this very moment, contemplating how to break into the bird seed can. </div><div><br /></div><div>I know a lot of folks don't think much of squirrels. Glorified tree rats. Bandits. Sneaky thieves. My dad tried his best to thwart their efforts at emptying the bird feeders (as do I), and once or twice resorted to BB guns (I won't do that). But whatever you think about them, they're entertaining, acrobatic, and occasionally hilarious. I loved watching red squirrels in Scotland, and black squirrels I've seen in Maryland and in Toronto. 'Shadow-tails' are well-named!</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8ipO8mejioQrU4rtefl8hqXy3R041bi03HGDN2UAh4wGYbz7Uu1gLWn1U6peldtwTkPNY81zaFo4j5C2MXxP_4AxeJNkf9yty5L4UOz_qdEKak3Jm2wRZ3dKCgPPPJzTVfz1zAbo32wGA/s864/cardinal+and+towhee3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="537" data-original-width="864" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8ipO8mejioQrU4rtefl8hqXy3R041bi03HGDN2UAh4wGYbz7Uu1gLWn1U6peldtwTkPNY81zaFo4j5C2MXxP_4AxeJNkf9yty5L4UOz_qdEKak3Jm2wRZ3dKCgPPPJzTVfz1zAbo32wGA/s320/cardinal+and+towhee3.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>We do have a little wildlife hereabouts, although nothing particularly exotic (a good thing, I suppose). Bluebirds, mockingbirds, chickadees, Carolina wrens, cardinals, rufous-sided towhees, brown-headed nuthatches, red-tailed hawks, chipmunks, bats, and rabbits all abound, and I glimpsed a fox trotting through the grove of trees in back of our house the other day. The balance of nature... </div><div><br /></div><div>Enough for this week! Not exciting stuff, but that might be a welcome contrast to what's in the news. One last thought: someone asked me the other day about studying in Scotland and what it was like. I was <a href="https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/interview-with-mara-shea/id1511104487?i=1000497493539" target="_blank">interviewed</a> by <a href="https://jamiemcgeechan.com/" target="_blank">Jamie McGeechan </a>of The American Scottish Foundation in late 2020, and he asked me a lot of questions about that. Many of you reading this blog already know some of the experiences I had and how I came to be in Aberdeen and at the Elphinstone Institute for a year. The <a href="https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/interview-with-mara-shea/id1511104487?i=1000497493539" target="_blank">podcast</a> with Jamie, however, focuses a little more on it, and I was happy to talk with him and to be a part of the <a href="https://americanscottishfoundation.com/home/index.html" target="_blank">ASF</a>'s exploration of topics about Scotland. (Some good marketing soul suggested that I post the podcast on <a href="https://www.marashea.com/" target="_blank">my website home page</a>, so I have done that. I'm not very good at marketing.)</div><div><br /></div><div>Stay well, be peaceful. And thanks for reading this!</div><div><br /></div><div>Cheers,</div><div>Mara</div></div>Mara Sheahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00480187040864569478noreply@blogger.com2Elon, NC, USA36.098276200000008 -79.51154337.7880423638211624 -114.6677933 64.408510036178853 -44.3552933tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1145515984664273176.post-53680575101261457892021-01-02T11:55:00.007-08:002021-01-02T12:11:06.247-08:00Here begins a new year, and a new journal. Welcome!<h4 style="text-align: left;"></h4><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Looking out my windows at a raw, rainy, foggy day at the beginning of a new year. The last year was any number of uncomplimentary adjectives: challenging, difficult, horrible, deadly, and of course, the word I refuse to employ ever again, 'unpr*******ed'. One of our neighbors gave us a Christmas ornament that sums it up nicely.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzlLDgzZBPFxMVr0XAf9ShlRWtD2nVDFsOk93q9t1EvgRUj9zOYpn9f_Xw6veLV5khIhmYEebOQaFyrLwj616hIJMjvQOKt4tIj5xs80Z3dm8JsGsfXp9BKSIFmg-XwGQLGUt43PVd9NA1/s746/Dr+Seuss+ornament-2020.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="The Grinch" border="0" data-original-height="746" data-original-width="718" height="303" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzlLDgzZBPFxMVr0XAf9ShlRWtD2nVDFsOk93q9t1EvgRUj9zOYpn9f_Xw6veLV5khIhmYEebOQaFyrLwj616hIJMjvQOKt4tIj5xs80Z3dm8JsGsfXp9BKSIFmg-XwGQLGUt43PVd9NA1/w293-h303/Dr+Seuss+ornament-2020.jpg" width="293" /></a></div><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">I hope 2021 will be a little less stinky. Is that hope I see way off on the horizon? Maybe.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">In the meantime, we will stay more or less to ourselves, cautiously avoiding close quarters with other folks, and trying to stay out of the way of the Covid-19 virus and all of its emerging variants. Perhaps by mid-2021 <i>we</i> will be able to emerge, like songbirds huddling in the shelter of shrubbery after hawks pass by. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">This past year has not been entirely awful, at least not for John and me. It has been a time when we accomplished a move from our house of sixteen years in Raleigh, North Carolina to a retirement community in Elon, North Carolina. (If I had to lose every gig for the foreseeable future, this was a good time, I suppose.) We downsized. We set up a new house and established new friends and relationships in a safe community with good medical support for John. They have a nice sense of fun here, too, and they love decorating for holidays (especially Christmas). It's meant a fresh start on new gardens, assisted by some transplants from the old ones. John has had weekly gatherings with his children and grandchildren on Zoom, and we have had a number of large family gatherings this way. It's different, but rather fun!</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw8h2YO29GuU47CPcG7BSdUuIMEcLab67NPijqym3mRqTm9Xkgwt0C7bkLX-JjyTlM04NeMNQcb5uZ729f88M1G-cjNZbHIm65XAhzzgR4SH5Wi-QRDaBZJk6HoGZ9uBGabj2RctSoeNkQ/s2048/20201205_211403.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw8h2YO29GuU47CPcG7BSdUuIMEcLab67NPijqym3mRqTm9Xkgwt0C7bkLX-JjyTlM04NeMNQcb5uZ729f88M1G-cjNZbHIm65XAhzzgR4SH5Wi-QRDaBZJk6HoGZ9uBGabj2RctSoeNkQ/w640-h360/20201205_211403.jpg" title="Reflections in the lake near us" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: x-small;"><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Reflections in the lake near us</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1R9EvZmtVyBvCRykK6W_vTF1KiGzKLyumBdtu9bFbScT2L3akEQElxshYlIgCdLRvkcQBwYWrai2nTXGIkPie6a56gsMNTMqhOmi9kzRACdNa2p_SoGspAnBvS5ObsjOo6hU8m8P5Fk3I/s2048/20201226_172910.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1R9EvZmtVyBvCRykK6W_vTF1KiGzKLyumBdtu9bFbScT2L3akEQElxshYlIgCdLRvkcQBwYWrai2nTXGIkPie6a56gsMNTMqhOmi9kzRACdNa2p_SoGspAnBvS5ObsjOo6hU8m8P5Fk3I/w400-h225/20201226_172910.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: georgia;">I have (gratefully) learned how to teach fiddle lessons online via Zoom, FaceTime, Skype, Hangouts, Google Meet. I learned how to record myself and layer in harmony parts so I could post English country dance recordings on <b><a href="https://marashea.bandcamp.com/" target="_blank">BandCamp</a> </b>for dancers and teachers. I have been able to join my friends at the Aberdeen Strathspey & Reel Society for weekly rehearsals and workshops, and have joined various international sessions. I participated in an online international conference on Traditional Tunes and Popular Airs and presented a paper, recorded beforehand. (Hmm...how to video oneself giving a PowerPoint presentation on Zoom...and edit out all the 'umm' noises? Another darn learning curve.) I even have a short article coming out in <i>Fiddler Magazine</i> in 2021! </span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">New tricks...and our sense of 'place' has suddenly shifted from geographic to time zone-centered. All these wonderful connections would not have been possible, ironically, had it not been for a pandemic. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">The sadder part is, of course, the loss of friends and relatives to Covid-19. We've had too much of that.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Fingers crossed...I think we might make it through all this. As a flight instructor told me many years ago, 'just keep that artificial horizon the right way up!' Bumpy flight so far, a few red lights are on, but we're still in the air...</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEBbPg2eeZjCPbvD-pRAt-2UjUcIOCQ-ObkCuduz86o1nWa8JGmFKjaZG_DJ2dB09qOpb_E9EfLI8lDq37_Wmrl74piekbnsXBQhwmXldcdE7iRe-M6h246C0mftvCbFm9cbipYKRLv4_C/s4032/20201227_174726.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2268" data-original-width="4032" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEBbPg2eeZjCPbvD-pRAt-2UjUcIOCQ-ObkCuduz86o1nWa8JGmFKjaZG_DJ2dB09qOpb_E9EfLI8lDq37_Wmrl74piekbnsXBQhwmXldcdE7iRe-M6h246C0mftvCbFm9cbipYKRLv4_C/w640-h360/20201227_174726.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Cheers, and all the best for this coming year.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Mara</span></p><p><br /></p>Mara Sheahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00480187040864569478noreply@blogger.com4Elon, NC, USA36.098276200000008 -79.51154337.7880423638211624 -114.6677933 64.408510036178853 -44.3552933tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1145515984664273176.post-8655570494907285622019-11-24T14:51:00.000-08:002019-11-24T15:32:31.637-08:00A closing chapter<b>20 November 2019, Elphinstone Hall, University of Aberdeen. </b><br />
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A windy, grey day in late autumn, with a bite in the air that suggests winter might not be far off. Thankfully, it is not pouring rain, and that is a great thing as the five of us MLitt students trek across campus in our billowy graduation gowns to the heart of Old Aberdeen and New King's Chapel. There, we sit with several hundred other students awaiting instructions about how to proceed with our graduation ceremony.<br />
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The Sacrist (the person in charge of the proceedings) and half a dozen assistants come around to each of us, checking our names and positions in line, making sure that we process in the correct order and end up in the right seats in Elphinstone Hall, where we will be presented to the Chancellor, and be granted our degrees. The music of bagpipes grows closer and greets us as we walk single file to the Hall and process up the center aisle to our seats. I feel just a little teary, but take a deep breath as I look up at the beautiful arched ceiling and oak-panelled walls.<br />
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It is a bit like stepping back a century or two. The graduation ceremony in Elphinstone Hall is in Latin. Sitting there under the gaze of Mary Stuart (in one of the oil paintings in gilded frames hanging above me on the wall), singing the words of the medieval Latin student song "Gaudeamus Igitur," I can easily imagine being a scholar here a couple of centuries ago, breathlessly awaiting the conferral of an academic degree.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLx10iJ8YyTbMLzXnGF5Wgq25WaGnW2p0lxbOKnzZxEGLtXEyXveZzjthlGEonsrjjZ1y-JcVG6lh_AK_RBYnfU8cNmd-3kuHz0Ow5DpUdhPJb3vpOrg9HkJcckesjruV0Xh5FDbJL-XwW/s1600/20191120_111832.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLx10iJ8YyTbMLzXnGF5Wgq25WaGnW2p0lxbOKnzZxEGLtXEyXveZzjthlGEonsrjjZ1y-JcVG6lh_AK_RBYnfU8cNmd-3kuHz0Ow5DpUdhPJb3vpOrg9HkJcckesjruV0Xh5FDbJL-XwW/s320/20191120_111832.jpg" width="320" /></a>The relatively new Elphinstone Hall where we sit is a twentieth-century replacement of the old Great Hall, built to recall an earlier era in Old Aberdeen's history. It feels ancient, the home of old traditions. As each of us hears our name called, we walk onto the stage where our professors are seated and receive the traditional tap on the head with a ceremonial cap, conferring our degrees on us with the phrase, "Et te creo," meaning (roughly) "I make you [a master of your discipline], also." The Sacrist places our colorful silk hoods over our heads, and we turn and walk down the center stairs of the stage back to our seats, suddenly changed into masters and doctors!<br />
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It happened so quickly, but it was a magical day, the culmination of a journey that I started in September 2018 with the help of many friends. In the year I was in Aberdeen, I made still more friends, learned much, and also discovered that I have much more to learn. There's no end to it!<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip6mt1XFarq08iu-OiSF0n9GihrgAo9GMzKptaF6EJxqWGFd4lp-y4jXiaHCyYYAsjx08l7E26AlZ0kSr71G4c36geS95Eo8deLcvED8MczuCLykASJxNTgrrXXE72_J7D5UqUA_Dm3Yfk/s1600/20191120_122003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip6mt1XFarq08iu-OiSF0n9GihrgAo9GMzKptaF6EJxqWGFd4lp-y4jXiaHCyYYAsjx08l7E26AlZ0kSr71G4c36geS95Eo8deLcvED8MczuCLykASJxNTgrrXXE72_J7D5UqUA_Dm3Yfk/s400/20191120_122003.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(L to R) Dr Tom McKean,<br />
Dr Frances Wilkins, and<br />
Nicolas Le Bigre,<br />
our very patient teachers and mentors<br />
<i>(Photo by Mara Shea)</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: right;">
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4NWarjSm8BtvexmCk4xAewpfejKPvtTtPNrmfHQOih9AtfGFlihJtm1iSdlxT-7EHRqUVLnPredm_IcEekoAHFPrejtiw_bMcrxsjcUvhUKRUPXdVGFhAWbQ-ZmNl3PhHrrfIadbzAGXc/s1600/Graduation+screenshot.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="887" data-original-width="1600" height="177" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4NWarjSm8BtvexmCk4xAewpfejKPvtTtPNrmfHQOih9AtfGFlihJtm1iSdlxT-7EHRqUVLnPredm_IcEekoAHFPrejtiw_bMcrxsjcUvhUKRUPXdVGFhAWbQ-ZmNl3PhHrrfIadbzAGXc/s320/Graduation+screenshot.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: xx-small;">From a video posted on YouTube by the University of Aberdeen</span></i><br />
<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o5sah-_okgU">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o5sah-_okgU</a> </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEqA2Rp76SfFeeAxe5Pqq9Y30L27VIaTHXm9Ag6oTOyCJ0UIC_0v6qz_VowDLu3ZT6d1wt5j30zRHCv4lNcmn7LKas_QdjpG11CozajPWFH6WwSqo9pYpneOWszOFVSMQCvtUhefd28UKm/s1600/77374310_3580873458604325_8350507100304048128_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEqA2Rp76SfFeeAxe5Pqq9Y30L27VIaTHXm9Ag6oTOyCJ0UIC_0v6qz_VowDLu3ZT6d1wt5j30zRHCv4lNcmn7LKas_QdjpG11CozajPWFH6WwSqo9pYpneOWszOFVSMQCvtUhefd28UKm/s320/77374310_3580873458604325_8350507100304048128_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(L to R) Dr Tom McKean, Mara Shea, Eleanor Telfer, <br />
Wenqiu Chen, Anne Greig, Rebecca Palomino,<br />
Dr Frances Wilkins, and Nicolas Le Bigre, Teaching Fellow<br />
<i>(Photo by Simon Gall, Elphinstone Institute)</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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So, part of a journey is completed. More adventures lie ahead, in what form I don't know quite yet. But I do know there are wonderful, kind, and positive friends in Aberdeen and throughout the world who love traditions – music, dance, stories, beliefs – and I am grateful for them. </div>
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And I thank all of you from the bottom of my heart.</div>
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Mara Sheahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00480187040864569478noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1145515984664273176.post-89749212477198360082019-09-03T17:28:00.001-07:002019-09-03T18:15:35.987-07:00Counting down the days<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUiS8l2HV8NLVGhLUAMgy43fa5UPOcsgXHftfmA6PMO33Sz6N2_9EBahZJmjuzaOAwEmfstHl7vj9f3P8tQwgUhAIYLzwoMwbXFCkqOYe-7ydxjV17BhBuMfDe9DrqoXlZIiSykMuYtNhu/s1600/20190823_115024.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUiS8l2HV8NLVGhLUAMgy43fa5UPOcsgXHftfmA6PMO33Sz6N2_9EBahZJmjuzaOAwEmfstHl7vj9f3P8tQwgUhAIYLzwoMwbXFCkqOYe-7ydxjV17BhBuMfDe9DrqoXlZIiSykMuYtNhu/s320/20190823_115024.jpg" width="240" /></a>Saturday morning, last day in August, rainy, blowy, fairly cool. For the past ten days, I've been staying in a cottage (the former hayloft of the stables), part of a delightful 18th-century house about 10 miles north of Aberdeen, enjoying gardens, good friends, birds, bats, and peace and quiet while I finished writing my dissertation. Only a few more days left here in Aberdeen. This year has flown past! The great news is that yesterday I pressed the "Send" button on my dissertation draft, and several copies are now waiting for me in the University of Aberdeen Print Shop. I'll pick them up Monday morning and submit them to the Elphinstone Institute. With luck, I've passed this coursework and all the requirements for the Master of Letters in Ethnology and Folklore! And I have really enjoyed the journey.<br />
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It's been a whirlwind year full of discovery and new experiences and understanding. I've learned a lot about what 'folklore' means. I understand Scots dialects a bit more than I could a year ago. I've been a part of an affa lot of strathspey and reel societies, fiddle rallies, Galoshins plays, academic conferences, pub sessions, Highland Games, country dance classes. So many new friends, new places, new sounds, and great memories. I'm just plain grateful.<br />
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Thank you to everyone who has supported me in this adventure, read this blog, asked me what in the world I was doing this for (it made me think), and shared it with me. I thought I would pick out a few photos of special moments and post them here. I'm afraid to look at how many pictures I have accumulated in my Google Photos, but it's a lot more than twelve. Here are just a few, no worries...<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimYhTDLkWIPZO3692K7sqQFjm_9qkw9BHgZZgJzixRe_RxqkQS9fY3L17lWNtvupcuwNQbtCWymgJCjaybrWfp13D9MuDUPYVfv1u0IioTlOz165n_MLZvGv5eQtSbwJqw49ROUDqHjvA8/s1600/IMG_4849.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="478" data-original-width="640" height="148" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimYhTDLkWIPZO3692K7sqQFjm_9qkw9BHgZZgJzixRe_RxqkQS9fY3L17lWNtvupcuwNQbtCWymgJCjaybrWfp13D9MuDUPYVfv1u0IioTlOz165n_MLZvGv5eQtSbwJqw49ROUDqHjvA8/s200/IMG_4849.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Thursday evenings at Old Blackfriars, <br />a great pub on Union Street in Aberdeen</span></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg32uYQ6PF9-H7Q3woh3FIewzgwf1TKdXbLF4WSdPdTC-Hk_7zNogYaMqu1BBkilC6CoXUGCbY0oMySt2vQDdJjn0i7KBIdecgj2xAfmGiAtT2Y0tgGv33NVBMHWF_eo3nHyIg8JX5e90Y3/s1600/20190822_230454.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg32uYQ6PF9-H7Q3woh3FIewzgwf1TKdXbLF4WSdPdTC-Hk_7zNogYaMqu1BBkilC6CoXUGCbY0oMySt2vQDdJjn0i7KBIdecgj2xAfmGiAtT2Y0tgGv33NVBMHWF_eo3nHyIg8JX5e90Y3/s320/20190822_230454.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
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Some wonderful musicians come to share tunes...<br />
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<span style="text-align: center;">Playing for Scottish country dancing weekends and for the Wednesday evening classes... Accordionist Frank Thomson is a wonderful mentor and musical companion! It's not all work, either, as you can see from this picture of musicians, dancers, and dance teacher trying to negotiate a seven-seater cycle at Millport Weekend in Cumbrae in May 2019!</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinR0lwS9sAtb24WfpKDzB8AqT2EOFxLJgt0rDq3eBcCDLMtXmO8z_zAolA8P-KczOFfEOhgc_lxU-1WQNdlSvPyfaVa9RAz7KNyKoB2OKmoWhTeYVk2P7Vu3rCviduM3A0-TDXJ85Pm9N1/s1600/IMG_1433.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="953" data-original-width="691" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinR0lwS9sAtb24WfpKDzB8AqT2EOFxLJgt0rDq3eBcCDLMtXmO8z_zAolA8P-KczOFfEOhgc_lxU-1WQNdlSvPyfaVa9RAz7KNyKoB2OKmoWhTeYVk2P7Vu3rCviduM3A0-TDXJ85Pm9N1/s200/IMG_1433.jpg" width="145" /></a><br />
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<b>Travelling around Aberdeenshire...remembering things I have seen</b></div>
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Pictish stone at Migvie Church, near Tarland and Logie-Coldstone<br />
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Enjoying a breezy day at Dunnottar Castle<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifqa_AatifydUElA_9JW_GAis2mSTyOT-w8BoyZ06b7QuE9zpZU19maC3-aeu_YLkkyWpBE486NEtkwg4ldUkuFG2xggBkgssYYEgVWB-D2uuSsBbXhx3XmdrTLDSg5WJtB4HCcLQrWuk5/s1600/20190413_142142.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifqa_AatifydUElA_9JW_GAis2mSTyOT-w8BoyZ06b7QuE9zpZU19maC3-aeu_YLkkyWpBE486NEtkwg4ldUkuFG2xggBkgssYYEgVWB-D2uuSsBbXhx3XmdrTLDSg5WJtB4HCcLQrWuk5/s320/20190413_142142.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
Exploring ruins of (new) Slains Castle<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtI_uc41LNtRFX1ieQihDVwtQgqJQyi4fNiL7H7sayF0LK-oPzJaQNSlh1NT9fD2kn3rybf9_ci1hf2IkELV-H0R8j5x3qoHcKYsL-gzGMuSxs13nMHkIcQhQnd1E1qggepLmZj4AQFZAV/s1600/20190507_150133.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtI_uc41LNtRFX1ieQihDVwtQgqJQyi4fNiL7H7sayF0LK-oPzJaQNSlh1NT9fD2kn3rybf9_ci1hf2IkELV-H0R8j5x3qoHcKYsL-gzGMuSxs13nMHkIcQhQnd1E1qggepLmZj4AQFZAV/s320/20190507_150133.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
As I mentioned in an earlier post, there is an older Slains Castle (its remnants now a garden feature beside someone's house along the sea)...but the somewhat newer one is definitely more dramatic. Not to be confused with the Slain's Pub in Aberdeen...<br />
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And one of my favorites is the Bullers of Buchan, a remarkable sculpture made by the North Sea.<br />
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Seacoast scenery is amazing.</div>
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Exploring the dramatic, precipitous cliffs of Findlater Castle just before an impressive thunderstorm...best not to go scrambling up and down in a rainstorm!</div>
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Highland Games...Aberdeen, Aboyne, Ballater, Lonach...each with a little different personality.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg58xvj32jFsuj8agLQSA9m8lRPDsAtIQfDaAIu2tJAg6mdB3xFlmD-gwNP8-nstk0FA4FUILbwn9CtsN6farNpFQRtagF6m1Sl2DEqSrJ-U7QXoTK0pxpx7lwfyUv8zj5-IWS_Z0ziRmF9/s1600/2019-08-08+15.10.13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg58xvj32jFsuj8agLQSA9m8lRPDsAtIQfDaAIu2tJAg6mdB3xFlmD-gwNP8-nstk0FA4FUILbwn9CtsN6farNpFQRtagF6m1Sl2DEqSrJ-U7QXoTK0pxpx7lwfyUv8zj5-IWS_Z0ziRmF9/s200/2019-08-08+15.10.13.jpg" width="200" /></a><br />
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Local bagpipe band competitions, the Lonach Gathering, beating the retreat, the showies (rides and sideshows) are all part of the fun!<br />
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<span style="text-align: left;">Picking black currants at a beautiful farm called Tillydaff, a little west of Aberdeen, and enjoying the bees, the chooks (chickens), and kitties... </span></div>
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Exploring coastal towns, like Stonehaven... <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie4-wwLuyQEssvKCnF5uizHlMeVMAXI6czOry9KCGdDph5TtYG-0SAmE3ffBUdWmAvefwG1jVBSFIDyqN1EsIGeFga8mq7trFY6HlB6dqlT1E37A0KKEOxkoEx_M5tXkQ2XTmifACTB77R/s1600/20190821_155405.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie4-wwLuyQEssvKCnF5uizHlMeVMAXI6czOry9KCGdDph5TtYG-0SAmE3ffBUdWmAvefwG1jVBSFIDyqN1EsIGeFga8mq7trFY6HlB6dqlT1E37A0KKEOxkoEx_M5tXkQ2XTmifACTB77R/s320/20190821_155405.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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And where there is coastline, there are the ever-present seagulls!</div>
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It is now Tuesday night, September 3. Autumn is coming to Aberdeen. The new students have arrived at the University, and seeing them walking through the lovely old campus reminds me of a year ago, when I arrived here. It's time... I have submitted my dissertation, said many goodbyes, tried to catch up with as many friends as possible. In a few hours, I fly back to North Carolina. So many memories, so many pictures, so many good friends. I hope to be back in Aberdeen soon. For now, though, I will return to friends and family in Raleigh, and share what I have found here in this lovely place. </div>
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Till soon! Many thanks to every one of you reading this. </div>
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Mara Sheahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00480187040864569478noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1145515984664273176.post-37854946425758634762019-06-04T18:02:00.000-07:002019-06-04T18:02:40.133-07:00Into the home stretch...just a few months to go! <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Lambing season has been busy around here!</i></span></td></tr>
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Exams are over, friends and family have come to visit, I have spent some time exploring in London, attended a folklore conference in Hertfordshire, and after coming home and replenishing my sleep supply, I'm feeling slightly more organised. I've had a few days of doing very little academic work (I needed a short break, and I very much needed to catch up on laundry and house cleaning), and now it's time to settle into a new routine of pulling the threads of all my research together and weaving something from it.<br />
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One of the things that we were required to do this past term was to make a short film about something related to ethnology or tradition in Scotland. We split up into three teams of two people each. After batting some ideas around for potential topics, my film partner and I decided to do something on a local fiddle maker and repairer, Ian Greig, who lives in Banchory, about 45 minutes' drive from Aberdeen. <br />
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Several people have asked if I would share the film, so with some trepidation, I will! Be merciful. ;)<br />
It's too large to put in this blog, as it's about 9 minutes long, so here is a link to it, if you're interested:<br />
<a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://drive.google.com/open?id%3D1XORBspOtTh8HaG3xq6i0maIkVzDsChZs&source=gmail&ust=1559685423269000&usg=AFQjCNFQ1Kr6WYrbjH8ADhUDNBg7VKKjow" href="https://drive.google.com/open?id=1XORBspOtTh8HaG3xq6i0maIkVzDsChZs" style="background-color: white; color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" target="_blank">https://drive.google.com/open?<wbr></wbr>id=<wbr></wbr>1XORBspOtTh8HaG3xq6i0maIkVzDsC<wbr></wbr>hZs</a><br />
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Since my last post, I've been to a lovely place not too far from Glasgow, called Cumbrae. It's a small island in the Firth of Clyde. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>The <b>Loch Shira</b> ferry between Largs and Cumbrae</i></span></td></tr>
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The only way out to it is by ferry, which stays busy--it's a popular place to enjoy some beautiful scenery. Our host, Jimmie Hill, took us on some trips around the island to enjoy its history and landscape (thank you, Jimmie!). This short video is a 360-degree view from the top of Cumbrae. (It's windy there, by the way.)<br />
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And a grand way to enjoy some of that scenery and beautiful weather, we discovered, was to rent a unique contraption called a conference bicycle (tricycle?) and dodge traffic on the front street along the harbour. It takes teamwork (seven people pedalling, with one steering), and it's a lot of fun. Here's a bit of live action:<br />
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Potholes and unprotected edges along the harbour wall are to be avoided at all costs.... </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvCZ5o4Cru4IjtqRAyg7y18oIfLjkiO-YOiBP5UuCMWyKpQVKKnsjwL1ScvvCQHm2jNLZs4cClsnJXVhbUZ5Tyadgyvzj-g3Q1gwpVaKXllVMo7rf-ekLkfiK4Tpa-xeBgHA9kpcamYxTC/s1600/20190511_152731.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvCZ5o4Cru4IjtqRAyg7y18oIfLjkiO-YOiBP5UuCMWyKpQVKKnsjwL1ScvvCQHm2jNLZs4cClsnJXVhbUZ5Tyadgyvzj-g3Q1gwpVaKXllVMo7rf-ekLkfiK4Tpa-xeBgHA9kpcamYxTC/s320/20190511_152731.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc6oXMQwDGVRg509SenIjS3V9eaXZYE6d-Z87Tu2EJElYGYDtLUHeycNxcOunxiwiuHcrlQWCp5T0zfBnL-_m89hEtV7a3d2beobec0ZGdnQSb8FJQ0laJUery7b62TBbkRmx_EyM4bTPt/s1600/IMG_3776.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc6oXMQwDGVRg509SenIjS3V9eaXZYE6d-Z87Tu2EJElYGYDtLUHeycNxcOunxiwiuHcrlQWCp5T0zfBnL-_m89hEtV7a3d2beobec0ZGdnQSb8FJQ0laJUery7b62TBbkRmx_EyM4bTPt/s200/IMG_3776.jpg" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwnSAKNNBmYd6K7XRgyG2eoPP2F2W-0OuwZHk11HH9KXgVeDvGMLXBDXI1BS14gDno4NF5ySMwGTzy33j1Oj9sjh72hguxFdmUOD-mMd5eKLDPO2f-hwZ_IjwzMQOvGQY61X67Qs4snVPi/s1600/20190511_154017.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwnSAKNNBmYd6K7XRgyG2eoPP2F2W-0OuwZHk11HH9KXgVeDvGMLXBDXI1BS14gDno4NF5ySMwGTzy33j1Oj9sjh72hguxFdmUOD-mMd5eKLDPO2f-hwZ_IjwzMQOvGQY61X67Qs4snVPi/s200/20190511_154017.jpg" width="200" /></a><br />
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It's a bit tricky taking photos while propelling a conference bicycle! When our hour was up and we'd had fun dodging buses and cars (we missed hitting the police car!) and had some other adventures involving driving through a classic car rally, it was time for ice cream. </div>
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Cumbrae is a beautiful spot to visit, and it has had its share of visitors over the past millenium or so. Vikings were a powerful force in the western isles from about 800 AD, frequently raiding from across the North Sea. In 1263, not far from today's ferry mooring, King Håkon IV of Norway and his forces were defeated and driven out of Cumbrae. It was the last time a Norwegian king would mount a military assault on Scotland. For a bit more information on Cumbrae:<br />
<a href="https://www.undiscoveredscotland.co.uk/cumbrae/greatcumbrae/index.html">https://www.undiscoveredscotland.co.uk/cumbrae/greatcumbrae/index.html</a><br />
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Back in Aberdeenshire, puffin nesting season is here, and I am on a quest to see some puffins. When friends from North Carolina visited a few weeks ago, we went up to several beautiful spots north of Aberdeen on the east coast. We saw splendid seascapes and rocky coastlines, but no puffins! We saw thousands of other birds, though, as we walked carefully along the tops of steep cliffs near Cruden Bay and saw the amazing Bullers of Buchan, mountains of rocks along the coast that have been carved out by the sea over time:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPUcQ7usKQGsubayJEKqvnkNXe5jAZUeApt_cU35-OJLDnrGP4EhWrdMuD_TnZxeE73V3M3tPtPv0OCxRHLxkNLDI3fS1A-LpAxe9HXpiVsxr9HRwdNcyK6y74Wk-3MRF7XQ1olM9cm14u/s1600/Arch+at+Bullers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPUcQ7usKQGsubayJEKqvnkNXe5jAZUeApt_cU35-OJLDnrGP4EhWrdMuD_TnZxeE73V3M3tPtPv0OCxRHLxkNLDI3fS1A-LpAxe9HXpiVsxr9HRwdNcyK6y74Wk-3MRF7XQ1olM9cm14u/s320/Arch+at+Bullers.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
The waves have created several dramatic arches like this one along the North Sea coast, as they eat their way through the ancient rock. There are nesting seabirds everywhere--cormorants, kittiwakes, razorbills, auks, guillemots--but no puffins that day. Another time...<br />
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The Bullers are impressive. Narrow, deep paths trace the contours of the sea coast cliffs. You need to watch where your feet go. An occasional rocky beach comes into view. It's hard to see the scale of these cliffs, but you can get an idea if you see two very small humans climbing down to the large boulders on the beach...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieHEnXndHl5OYXyoHCaEwhaUF8SMOoaM6zhoSYL4jqasEnPgVDImGVoiLW0f7cao2ssqzVAuDUEX0hFfHTSGKDpf5L6_lvNh2tdYoempzzfUz536nuVUVSaB8Jjp12OK_LSbbQ17CjB0W3/s1600/Pat+and+Doug+at+Bullers+of+Buchan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieHEnXndHl5OYXyoHCaEwhaUF8SMOoaM6zhoSYL4jqasEnPgVDImGVoiLW0f7cao2ssqzVAuDUEX0hFfHTSGKDpf5L6_lvNh2tdYoempzzfUz536nuVUVSaB8Jjp12OK_LSbbQ17CjB0W3/s640/Pat+and+Doug+at+Bullers+of+Buchan.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHznGpzOenBcHPgxqH4MSQ6pS5qw9jotJ1i2HopkbunOYRMLB_nE2UeCC9ock6HWKoCvdOUi6yh-T23rRCqt2MMK1SItGRbhJrGi49beQs1E4JFzkpG-cJDEtTAtz4FbPB7bS4lzc-HbE7/s1600/Slain+Castle+windows.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHznGpzOenBcHPgxqH4MSQ6pS5qw9jotJ1i2HopkbunOYRMLB_nE2UeCC9ock6HWKoCvdOUi6yh-T23rRCqt2MMK1SItGRbhJrGi49beQs1E4JFzkpG-cJDEtTAtz4FbPB7bS4lzc-HbE7/s320/Slain+Castle+windows.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Not far from the Bullers of Buchan, the ruins of Slains Castle perch on top of the cliffs. There are two Slains Castles, one old and one new. (Actually three, if you count a pub called that in Aberdeen.) This one with the bay windows overlooking a seascape is the New Slains. It has had layers of fortress / house / castle / built onto it since around 1597, when it was built onto an older tower house by the Earl of Errol. It was added onto in 1664, and again in 1836. Bram Stoker is said to have stayed here in the late 19th century, and it may have been the inspiration for his 1897 novel, <i>Count Dracula</i>. (I believe it.) Samuel Johnson and James Boswell did indeed stay here, and there is <a href="https://www.undiscoveredscotland.co.uk/usebooks/boswell-hebrides/03-slainscastle-fortgeorge.html" target="_blank">a delightful account</a> of their visits to both Slains Castle and to the Bullers of Buchan. Boswell points out that <i>Bullers</i> is probably derived from the English word <i>boiler</i>, and that makes a great deal of sense, as you watch the roiling waves smash their way into the spaces and crevices in the rocky coastline. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV7HWm7D11RZZq3b4N7LCgjS_srJv3HPIv3yPinvo7OuGRx7ftkRJNKQ6zDDjvuQYiZyL07ByJXIApZCQZSpFQgWbPSNT7g15xVv2FWOJ3mcW3bu9_XpKJFhXL1UWTIyCCUi3zy9S-dMb3/s1600/20190509_132703.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV7HWm7D11RZZq3b4N7LCgjS_srJv3HPIv3yPinvo7OuGRx7ftkRJNKQ6zDDjvuQYiZyL07ByJXIApZCQZSpFQgWbPSNT7g15xVv2FWOJ3mcW3bu9_XpKJFhXL1UWTIyCCUi3zy9S-dMb3/s320/20190509_132703.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
The older Slains Castle, by the way, is a hulking 12th-century ruin about 5 miles farther down the coast. It also belonged to the Earl of Errol (he who built the new Slains), who made the mistake of being part of a plot against King James VI in 1594. The King reacted by blowing up the Earl's fortress and exiling him for three years.<br />
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There is not much left of the castle today, but it makes a lovely garden feature for the small house that stands beside it. Sheep wander through it now and then.<br />
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Of course, Aberdeen has its own seacoast, not so rocky and dramatic, but quite nice on a sunny afternoon--if you're lucky you might see dolphins and seals. The afternoons and evenings are, of course, lasting much longer these days--sunset isn't until about 10 pm, and sunrise is just after 4 am. It starts getting light about 3:30 am, and doesn't get very dark until about 11 pm. Plenty of time to spend looking at interesting things in the evening! The photo below is from the harbour in Aberdeen, looking at the lighthouse and a departing supply ship heading to the rigs offshore. This was taken about 9:45 pm in the middle of May.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJf9q0A6I8w8poUVBY3ZbVXNE8-AeWEDXdWTinR6C67hBl8ByTzvCJH09bT4nO7WgoojqbQNIV2M93Zfnqc1CmSJsj_fjzwnLA-obqR9nXsG20zvzjBZONkBPrs5NnF3W9rDAY8DpQBPuo/s1600/20190519_193806.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJf9q0A6I8w8poUVBY3ZbVXNE8-AeWEDXdWTinR6C67hBl8ByTzvCJH09bT4nO7WgoojqbQNIV2M93Zfnqc1CmSJsj_fjzwnLA-obqR9nXsG20zvzjBZONkBPrs5NnF3W9rDAY8DpQBPuo/s400/20190519_193806.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIVTGYPM5Ko2yEb3HUyiLl80TjbOcAzn_vb3Vr-7zGLoLhztLO8ZnBWHMLSzHlhTL8kK-5yKzC9k073YHEBhojDEGTtr8kkZCphY0ULOiKiqkJZccBNfxvoAnQXmJSHZLfXfL1cTFfbshu/s1600/20190507_134007.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIVTGYPM5Ko2yEb3HUyiLl80TjbOcAzn_vb3Vr-7zGLoLhztLO8ZnBWHMLSzHlhTL8kK-5yKzC9k073YHEBhojDEGTtr8kkZCphY0ULOiKiqkJZccBNfxvoAnQXmJSHZLfXfL1cTFfbshu/s200/20190507_134007.jpg" width="200" /></a>John came to visit in mid-May, and I think he might have enjoyed Aberdeen. We stayed at Brentwood Villa guest house across from the University, with a delightful host named Mary who loves to cook. She's not even afraid of vegan diets! (I definitely recommend this place if you would like a homey place to stay.)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSC2ry2ReeK7jTYKPUFu0jszkh0edTueOfIDgmSbTrqyF2Qqd2IG6N534tTGRf0sxwrajmRmOHbf6FXyCPQg8pZIcFD4NxCWS5K9SJHyMzFHH_mBpDCQfYxTXH-ClTYXx2qGX0svtGrw90/s1600/20190517_171710.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSC2ry2ReeK7jTYKPUFu0jszkh0edTueOfIDgmSbTrqyF2Qqd2IG6N534tTGRf0sxwrajmRmOHbf6FXyCPQg8pZIcFD4NxCWS5K9SJHyMzFHH_mBpDCQfYxTXH-ClTYXx2qGX0svtGrw90/s320/20190517_171710.jpg" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTcWKilSDL92NiEYefBEa94BZ0la05JzuEhe3Q8Z-8F5K7xK1WXmzS7UQOKghb2jM2OfRbAgQH0nplQHqArdDqt4FuZbfEjcumqr-1VTkKkVItZDvAqiHaKbiNN7crfQC0xodt8LgsHvp9/s1600/20190517_131405.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTcWKilSDL92NiEYefBEa94BZ0la05JzuEhe3Q8Z-8F5K7xK1WXmzS7UQOKghb2jM2OfRbAgQH0nplQHqArdDqt4FuZbfEjcumqr-1VTkKkVItZDvAqiHaKbiNN7crfQC0xodt8LgsHvp9/s200/20190517_131405.jpg" width="150" /></a>We were busy while John was here! We saw Crathes Castle, Balmoral Castle (the Land Rover trip through the lands around the castle is a great thing to do), various restaurants, the University, St. Machar's Cathedral, and visited several friends who live near Aberdeen.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">John and Mara sitting on the front porch of a quiet cottage on the Balmoral grounds. <br />John was lucky enough to visit when it was sunny and beautiful in Aberdeenshire.<br />I think that was the first time I've had to wear my sunglasses in several months!</span></i></td></tr>
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From Aberdeen, we took the train to London and Heathrow, which is a nice way to see a lot of countryside in one day without working at it. From there, we headed to Hamburg to meet a good friend. Lots of walking, and lots to see, and a wonderful few days. That Hamburg - Frankfurt journey could be a whole new blog chapter, so I might wait for another time for that one!</div>
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I had a conference near London to attend after John went back to the States, so I took a bit of time to explore and see some of central London and the south bank. It's ridiculously easy to keep walking (just to see one more thing!), and then realise that the reason your feet are complaining is that you've actually walked about 13 miles that day!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">An iconic view of the Thames</span></i></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">Big Ben under wraps...he tells the time, but he's quiet about it.</span></i></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7rr3Cgdy5er7Dxu_WaZBGsSHzGFx0cq_4mac1GvHOeOjUI2BhC_DdLxlt1c1JA41-_uhPw4bYd6hvEq4y9iNQgppUkqueisFHmk-m7p9MH3HPCZTrGzYZSuqsoWdR21dFw6p7cXBJd8BA/s1600/20190527_213655.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1472" data-original-width="1600" height="587" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7rr3Cgdy5er7Dxu_WaZBGsSHzGFx0cq_4mac1GvHOeOjUI2BhC_DdLxlt1c1JA41-_uhPw4bYd6hvEq4y9iNQgppUkqueisFHmk-m7p9MH3HPCZTrGzYZSuqsoWdR21dFw6p7cXBJd8BA/s640/20190527_213655.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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I ended that 13-mile day with a peaceful two hours in the church of St. Martin-in-the-Fields, listening to a concert by the Trafalgar Sinfonia of Vivaldi's <i>Four Seasons</i>, along with pieces by Bach, Purcell, Corelli, and Warlock. The night sky when I walked back to my tiny hotel room at 10:00 pm was a deep luminous blue, not quite dark yet.<br />
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So the next day I and my feet were very happy to sit in the Vaughan Williams Memorial Library at Cecil Sharp House (home of the English Folk Dance and Song Society) and be surrounded by dozens of English fiddlers' 18th- and 19th-century tune book manuscripts. What a great way to spend a day!<br />
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Now, home in Aberdeen again, I'm settling back into a routine of reading and writing, as I head into the last few months of my stay here. The dissertation is due by the end of August, and I fly back to North Carolina on 4 September! I will keep you posted on progress...wish me luck!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">A page from the 1850 Scottish manuscript tune book I am working with for my dissertation</span></i></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-size: large;">And as always, thank you, thank you...</span></div>
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<br />Mara Sheahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00480187040864569478noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1145515984664273176.post-84975608415119332202019-05-06T03:52:00.000-07:002019-05-06T03:52:42.156-07:00No boring weather here! <div style="text-align: right;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZgpV6IJbnGHtEjlS8Eb1SWZn06rSa4TLkE0SR8TAzrxoPTC3EUEup_ix5TItWVmOTRH7aJuQeruG4x9nadrXi5Fz032r9jYzEQiDcK4FJMgO4esziAPaVjwbL1rATu7mDFGZ188e1tZMZ/s1600/Flying+over+France.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZgpV6IJbnGHtEjlS8Eb1SWZn06rSa4TLkE0SR8TAzrxoPTC3EUEup_ix5TItWVmOTRH7aJuQeruG4x9nadrXi5Fz032r9jYzEQiDcK4FJMgO4esziAPaVjwbL1rATu7mDFGZ188e1tZMZ/s320/Flying+over+France.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<b>April and May in Aberdeen</b> – time is speeding past! Final exams happened for me this past week, and I am very grateful to have that hurdle behind me. Now, of course, more work is ahead as I begin doing research and writing for the dissertation, the final part of the degree requirements. More on that at another time!<br />
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Since my last blog update (which seems like months ago, but was really only weeks ago), winter, spring, and summer have all been battling it out here. But I am frequently told by Aberdonians that May does not mean spring is here...and they're right!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4wLuMV7CPlWJ9uPKMtR9SK8tUZLje42F08N1Hp36uGngXoo86C9zMN4K_-JTOyrGE_fg1kkV5d1mfB_lGmb9-Sml0_VVeN7lYGx6L_kvhpE3RIVXsVZ_GP0dFDzJjsOAINq0LNS428_2R/s1600/Fiddleheads1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4wLuMV7CPlWJ9uPKMtR9SK8tUZLje42F08N1Hp36uGngXoo86C9zMN4K_-JTOyrGE_fg1kkV5d1mfB_lGmb9-Sml0_VVeN7lYGx6L_kvhpE3RIVXsVZ_GP0dFDzJjsOAINq0LNS428_2R/s320/Fiddleheads1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Here in Aberdeen, slightly warmed (?) by the North Sea, spring seemed to be winning for a while, but when I took a bus out one day in mid-April to Crathie, west of Aberdeen and at the foot of the Cairngorm Mountains, I realised that was an illusion. Standing at the top of a road in Cairngorms National Park, near Bush Lawsie, I let my camera survey the lovely snowy mountains surrounding me. Lochnagar could have been in the Rockies...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioXz_jzXm6ztv98uQ-nIajJJkti5Ct8MMQ-9TssU7UKQKfwrpS5rT10OfHrigeR13E1_uld0m1PwM1WaMrWRN_M3ewjl2focwIf0pzwCqQdJnlod7au8GGIt2oz1U1CYPyyNoN90KuVyp0/s1600/Cairngorms4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioXz_jzXm6ztv98uQ-nIajJJkti5Ct8MMQ-9TssU7UKQKfwrpS5rT10OfHrigeR13E1_uld0m1PwM1WaMrWRN_M3ewjl2focwIf0pzwCqQdJnlod7au8GGIt2oz1U1CYPyyNoN90KuVyp0/s320/Cairngorms4.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdYC-8ddTLXuHOzwrVzu2hlMXxHGENDM58afFZP4j-yACmsJGZLcMy14d68DawCAttcohjrkxujBvmcsmerTMkyT5_Bpu3F8RioL7v4Tcj6-po9NBrC3pjrQDyXYUlHhRHBQF1YodWuFzg/s1600/Spring1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdYC-8ddTLXuHOzwrVzu2hlMXxHGENDM58afFZP4j-yACmsJGZLcMy14d68DawCAttcohjrkxujBvmcsmerTMkyT5_Bpu3F8RioL7v4Tcj6-po9NBrC3pjrQDyXYUlHhRHBQF1YodWuFzg/s200/Spring1.jpg" width="200" /></a>Meanwhile, a little more eastward in Aberdeenshire, spring had already made an entrance.<br />
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Just about 25 miles east of the Cairngorms, Crathes Castle gardens are famous, even off-season, for their beauty. In April, groves of fritillaria and newly unfurling fiddlehead ferns appeared around every bend in the paths.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOBzN087WN50KtHinBia9SgRDgJT4ylOPJysRqi1PdzyGJtxffCy3dUH778-RJKgfEZqesLOY6EfyEfFnQV4U9fqFzV5LJDoZTVnisIZ6yHPR14tRHdfFezb7XbYB9tGs4rS7YV7zRsUhY/s1600/Fiddleheads2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOBzN087WN50KtHinBia9SgRDgJT4ylOPJysRqi1PdzyGJtxffCy3dUH778-RJKgfEZqesLOY6EfyEfFnQV4U9fqFzV5LJDoZTVnisIZ6yHPR14tRHdfFezb7XbYB9tGs4rS7YV7zRsUhY/s320/Fiddleheads2.jpg" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAGvYZ3-AlpJ5H8q7zaqotLxiTilU7yzF8QMfADzJ6ehXISyzmklbuCyZwgazRafmYWi6oq2oM0Ewi63GYUG9vPNvfhwL3sW15DAXS13fJD-Y-w4c0t5WTPShZjRzkrC03I8gdbnHyJKhA/s1600/Fritillaria.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="681" data-original-width="864" height="252" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAGvYZ3-AlpJ5H8q7zaqotLxiTilU7yzF8QMfADzJ6ehXISyzmklbuCyZwgazRafmYWi6oq2oM0Ewi63GYUG9vPNvfhwL3sW15DAXS13fJD-Y-w4c0t5WTPShZjRzkrC03I8gdbnHyJKhA/s320/Fritillaria.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
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This stone bench in one of the gardens looks like something out of a miniature Stonehenge, almost dwarfed by daffodils, bluebells, and thousands of new fiddlehead ferns.<br />
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And one of my favorite trees in the forest at Crathes Castle looks curiously beautiful no matter what the season...leaves are just beginning to appear.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This tree looks like it might have come from Middle Earth...</td></tr>
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<br />Shortly before Easter, a few snow flurries reminded us winter was still hovering in the wings; then Easter Sunday brought delightfully summery temperatures. That next week, clouds of color surrounded me on my way to the University each morning, with cherry trees, tulips, daffodils, azaleas, rhododendrons, early roses, and various shades of lilacs all blooming simultaneously.<br />
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Even the cooler days that returned after our brief outburst of summer didn't slow the riotous blooming. Seeing students walking on King Street in t-shirts and shorts, you could believe that winter had left the stage for the year.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2_Q8R50S0uNl4wiYqwCGU4VgMfpR_gWZ5e_LAY7ZUwngS-zhqweYtQMW1Ojic7UnFOUJfBjfiwfmfMolRiqklSbdPbJ7lPUk-TWEdGHP41jiy24LXUqhbELCGwm2hvYh6Kl7Ab9eTLCKg/s1600/Spring+.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2_Q8R50S0uNl4wiYqwCGU4VgMfpR_gWZ5e_LAY7ZUwngS-zhqweYtQMW1Ojic7UnFOUJfBjfiwfmfMolRiqklSbdPbJ7lPUk-TWEdGHP41jiy24LXUqhbELCGwm2hvYh6Kl7Ab9eTLCKg/s320/Spring+.jpg" width="240" /></a><br />
So on May 3, it was a little confusing to be exploring near a rural community called Logie-Coldstone, north of the River Dee and west of Aberdeen in bright sunshine, and watching the sunny green fields around me suddenly fogged over with blowing sleet and snow! (It had been a little chilly...)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6SGX-mf8LIr-FEhEE7OAZGIGci_YBDhBFJMjFrsdq16-fMBN66Kc0K4Uda-4Z0zkd_-oZOun-uIPcT46wrM9roC46cI3QVYKtc-F9eXLiryMRJLniBTFdnI3QmJdWbrBaFDSbi1unQkUc/s1600/Graveyard+and+snow+clouds.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6SGX-mf8LIr-FEhEE7OAZGIGci_YBDhBFJMjFrsdq16-fMBN66Kc0K4Uda-4Z0zkd_-oZOun-uIPcT46wrM9roC46cI3QVYKtc-F9eXLiryMRJLniBTFdnI3QmJdWbrBaFDSbi1unQkUc/s320/Graveyard+and+snow+clouds.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
The dramatic shifts in weather didn't deter us from our mission to explore this 1846 graveyard (in Logie-Mar), but I was glad to have my heavy raincoat and woolen scarf. By the time we headed back to Aberdeen an hour later, it was sunny again, but we passed through three more bands of snow on the way home. This is apparently perfectly normal for Aberdeenshire. Who wants boring weather?<br />
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These days of exploration that I am enjoying right now have been a marvelous contrast to the intensity of getting ready to sit for exams, an experience I have not had to cope with for--umm--several decades. My level of general wisdom might have improved since I was last in grad school, but my ability to remember names has not. The past months have been creative ones, as I concocted ridiculous ditties to help myself remember who wrote what, when, and why. We'll see what the exam results might be in a few weeks. In the meantime, it's a relief to be outside in the wind and weather, letting some of that intensity wash away.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>How many MLitt students does it<br />take....</i></span></td></tr>
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What else did April bring besides exams and weird and wonderful weather? We MLitt students, under the supervision of Dr Frances Wilkins, helped organise and coordinate an international conference weekend for the British Forum on Ethnomusicology (BFE), which was held at the Elphinstone Institute. That involved everything from keeping an endless supply of coffee, tea, and biscuits coming for the 100-something delegates; posing as IT experts and helping to get delegates' presentations loaded on lecture hall PCs; serving at the wine reception; playing music at the wine reception; being part of the ceilidh band for the celebratory dinner at a local community hall; providing child care; calling cabs; and being kitchen staff! We did get a chance to sit in on some of the papers being presented, which was interesting. It was a good experience, and we also went on an afternoon trip to see Dunnottar Castle and Crathes Castle with the delegates. And yes, we did finally get those big tables around a corner and through the narrow doorway of the Buchan Library, although it was iffy for a moment or two...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf_iAYbHe9EUaNZsb0bro115lJ42Xlf6AeHIW0vkrnPH5EekVohPx_N0SP8W4bht-voQOUlZrbY04lhZmqkzknbL9Zzts0sD9vIT3f9W1jVPQ5CBXOxJJNXxh5dl6Dvh_VFCDsUzWJUgWc/s1600/Dunnotar+and+me.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf_iAYbHe9EUaNZsb0bro115lJ42Xlf6AeHIW0vkrnPH5EekVohPx_N0SP8W4bht-voQOUlZrbY04lhZmqkzknbL9Zzts0sD9vIT3f9W1jVPQ5CBXOxJJNXxh5dl6Dvh_VFCDsUzWJUgWc/s320/Dunnotar+and+me.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip6fAMu65c5_mWOkdAwqsZU0oTre_Q41-oTGfcWoTGOPF7b-96wysuJyUTGfh9V2VyzXZZj2DGOiJtDHteu7Pwl2_hWPaQYzUyHTN_Z03xHJqIuhFhFeqNQDb1I2nhDs1Q5MD_g7cQl3ck/s1600/Dunnottar1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1203" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip6fAMu65c5_mWOkdAwqsZU0oTre_Q41-oTGfcWoTGOPF7b-96wysuJyUTGfh9V2VyzXZZj2DGOiJtDHteu7Pwl2_hWPaQYzUyHTN_Z03xHJqIuhFhFeqNQDb1I2nhDs1Q5MD_g7cQl3ck/s320/Dunnottar1.jpg" width="320" /></a>Dunnottar Castle is well worth several hours' visit if you have the chance to visit this area of Scotland. The medieval castle ruins are amazing, as they are well preserved and hold a lot of stories and history, and the seacoast landscape where the castle is situated is perfectly stunning. The clifftop has been the site of a 5th-century AD Pictish fort, a medieval church, a 14th-century fortress, the home of the crown jewels of Scotland (the Honours of Scotland), a 16th-century mansion, and in the 17th century, a much-expanded fortress. It remained active until the 18th century, when it was surrendered in the Jacobite uprisings and abandoned. Today it is owned by the Cowdray family, who purchased it in 1925 and preserved it. Here are a couple of websites where you can find more history of the castle: <a href="https://www.undiscoveredscotland.co.uk/stonehaven/dunnottarcastle/index.html">https://www.undiscoveredscotland.co.uk/stonehaven/dunnottarcastle/index.html</a> and <a href="https://www.dunnottarcastle.co.uk/history/">https://www.dunnottarcastle.co.uk/history/</a><br />
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Trails wind all around the promontory, and it is a splendid time of year to see the gorse in bloom. There's a saying here that <span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">'</span>when gorse is out of bloom, kissing is out of season<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">'</span>. (There's a similar one that swaps out kissing for whisky.) Since I have been here, I have never seen gorse NOT blooming somewhere, so no worries. But at the moment it's really beautiful--big hilly mounds of brilliant golden flowers everywhere you look! (Probably not so good to pick them, though.)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3yScHQMy6ZTdU7JWPR_OJaEYAjikAdFx8Q0uDlqXNWnizOaJUPlJ2j9pO_OYRG76vDs9DB_xWKV7MlV_UYMVp0XyzoOvcKIo3VMIwdUuU45vwFAPfz94bzt8DYMHQtFI0dzfQW-2DVf5D/s1600/Eleanor+and+Wenqiu.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="726" data-original-width="864" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3yScHQMy6ZTdU7JWPR_OJaEYAjikAdFx8Q0uDlqXNWnizOaJUPlJ2j9pO_OYRG76vDs9DB_xWKV7MlV_UYMVp0XyzoOvcKIo3VMIwdUuU45vwFAPfz94bzt8DYMHQtFI0dzfQW-2DVf5D/s320/Eleanor+and+Wenqiu.jpg" width="320" /></a>At right is a picture of two of my classmates, Wen-qiu and Eleanor, posing in front of Dunnotar on our outing with the delegates. You may have seen them in previous posts here playing musical instruments. Wen-qiu plays the pipa, a kind of Chinese lute, and Eleanor plays the piano, banjo, and fiddle.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">Eleanor posing in front of Crathes Castle</span></i></td></tr>
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Like Dunnotar, Crathes Castle also has an interesting history. It has been in the Burnett family since it was built in the 16th century by Alexander Burnett (it took 40 years to build). Robert the Bruce granted the Burnetts a large amount of land in 1323. However, the Burnetts lived for several centuries in more down-to-earth dwellings they built on a nearby crannog (an island, often man-made, in the middle of a lake) before Alexander Burnett built the castle that still stands today. The National Trust has owned it since 1952, but the Burnett family still use the castle; it's not unheard-of to see one of them stopping into the tea shop near the castle.<br />
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For more photos and history, try these websites:<br />
<a href="https://www.nts.org.uk/visit/places/crathes-castle">https://www.nts.org.uk/visit/places/crathes-castle</a><br />
<a href="https://www.britainexpress.com/attractions.htm?attraction=1202">https://www.britainexpress.com/attractions.htm?attraction=1202</a><br />
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The enormous topiary yew hedges in the Crathes gardens were planted centuries ago. These in the photo to the left may be ones planted about 1700; others were planted in the 19th century.<br />
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From a certain angle, I can almost see the Red Queen from <i>Alice in Wonderland</i>...<br />
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Later that day, we participated in a large, happy ceilidh in an old village hall nearby. Lots of great music, stories, poems, songs, a wild and woolly ceilidh dance for our visitors from the BFE conference...and some excellent step dance (Pat Ballantyne) and piping (Iain Richardson):<br />
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April was also a month for visiting several violin makers in Aberdeenshire. One gentleman I visited, David Vernon, lives south of Aberdeen in Angus, where he has a small shop at his home.</div>
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He, his violins, home, and shop are all quite interesting, and I was able to interview him to find out something about his story. The sitting room, which used to be a library and small concert venue for the community, could easily be a museum--fascinating objects are tucked away everywhere. Before I left, David pointed me towards an intriguing object that had been hand-carved for him (see video).</div>
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So, enough for now...more in a bit when I have had a chance to restore my room and my desk to some order after the blizzards of reading and writing this term. Till next time! In the meantime, enjoy some of the signage I found in my recent travels!<br />
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Cheers, and thanks to all of you,<br />
Mara<br />
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And on that note....Happy Spring, everyone!</div>
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<br />Mara Sheahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00480187040864569478noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1145515984664273176.post-21188740674202251762019-03-10T17:46:00.000-07:002019-03-10T17:46:46.693-07:00A mild March in Aberdeen (so far)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitQZtNew89asdeelKpB9ye7Y-8H9TX4SYXv0iG06H7MUQVE-NMfiEXktoVvroYZ7q_SKH39WMyIQttnk7ngGRmd6GUjNUgNMjDjIbFyiokAf5xRLsoHNiOH4h5R4z5UCp7Q11wCt7UsNh9/s1600/20190226_111014.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitQZtNew89asdeelKpB9ye7Y-8H9TX4SYXv0iG06H7MUQVE-NMfiEXktoVvroYZ7q_SKH39WMyIQttnk7ngGRmd6GUjNUgNMjDjIbFyiokAf5xRLsoHNiOH4h5R4z5UCp7Q11wCt7UsNh9/s320/20190226_111014.jpg" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOVvmGN9-mkW7gjQV-cZ_KJX-GodUDRQDxptgfEd4RA5nf-_dInvK6XEyHYNOFj-xbDmCpRlp3uyVjGApgSn75zRQvceszyCgX_aGobW3rPSL2aXreKj0xy06813YntAsMvLZ7NrNIIITA/s1600/20190225_150552.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOVvmGN9-mkW7gjQV-cZ_KJX-GodUDRQDxptgfEd4RA5nf-_dInvK6XEyHYNOFj-xbDmCpRlp3uyVjGApgSn75zRQvceszyCgX_aGobW3rPSL2aXreKj0xy06813YntAsMvLZ7NrNIIITA/s400/20190225_150552.jpg" width="300" /></a>The spring bulbs are out in Aberdeen, and so are the cherry trees, despite dire predictions of the winter weather that often comes out of nowhere in March. It may yet arrive, but for now, people are enjoying the relatively mild weather. Today is an unusually bright, sunshiny day, and people are out walking and soaking up a little vitamin D.<br />
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Catching up on interesting tidbits...our class has had a busy month (which has something do to with why I haven't written a blog chapter in a few weeks). Back in early February, we spent a rather amazing five days in the Borders area of Scotland, criss-crossing over to England and back again.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZGN8aFCjpaSevLLgFOVWv3SFtmsQGkx_qN4F2oeAMnUShMg96ik0mH1khL4UIEW3iP6Gxq4X4vOrK-0vx9gsBkI046jiuE_ch8YRQ-NH-HwUT0iPgZdq2dNItiYaeut-T8NWxjnjQqsed/s1600/Borders+map.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="980" data-original-width="1458" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZGN8aFCjpaSevLLgFOVWv3SFtmsQGkx_qN4F2oeAMnUShMg96ik0mH1khL4UIEW3iP6Gxq4X4vOrK-0vx9gsBkI046jiuE_ch8YRQ-NH-HwUT0iPgZdq2dNItiYaeut-T8NWxjnjQqsed/s640/Borders+map.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>The purple places are a few of the highlights of the many spots we visited; <br />the map would be unreadable if I labeled everything we saw!</i></span></td></tr>
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We knew only that we would be going to see some of the annual Spring ritual ba games (a kind of village football game that goes back to medieval times) in Jedburgh, that we should wear warm layers and raingear, and that we should expect to share rooms, as we had in the hostels (and the famous blackhouse!) in our first Field School. So we gathered as usual in our rented van at 8 am, prepared for a rustic week, and headed south, stopping off for some favorite breakfast treats at The Horn near Dundee, famed for its enormous bacon rolls and other wonderfully heart-stopping menu items. (They also make great scrambled eggs and toast.)<br />
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Can't miss it; it's got a large black-and-white cow on the roof!<br />
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On the way, we stopped at the School of Scottish Studies at the University of Edinburgh and toured the archives, even having a bit of time to browse through the archives. This will definitely mean at least a future day trip to Edinburgh, as it just whetted the appetites of anyone looking for old recordings, photos, and source material...<br />
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South of Edinburgh the landscape changes to rolling patchwork hills and valleys with old stone bridges arching over streams and burns. This is the beginning of the Borders country, with beautiful ruined abbeys, castles, baronial estates, and much history. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIHEy-dmDj7i9sYW024p-ahdWuGUifarHeNwtYhbkMygkmn7rWiVmdH0yux_iAI0TVlwRpamWOYm7OJ8yHO5gAi1jFNeGLlulzpAxouqKuEflcYAPmO7K02Id7o5CjIAUIWGSIUhczuhH-/s1600/20190207_162647.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIHEy-dmDj7i9sYW024p-ahdWuGUifarHeNwtYhbkMygkmn7rWiVmdH0yux_iAI0TVlwRpamWOYm7OJ8yHO5gAi1jFNeGLlulzpAxouqKuEflcYAPmO7K02Id7o5CjIAUIWGSIUhczuhH-/s320/20190207_162647.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Dusk was settling in as we drove past a sign for Abbotsford House, the home of Sir Walter Scott, and turned left onto a narrow road to the House. I thought it might be a little late for a tour, but one thing I've learned since September is not to be surprised at what our fearless director, Dr. Tom McKean, can make happen. We drove up to a lovely house, complete with turrets and portcullis, outlined against the sunset, with a few welcoming lights in the front rooms. Tom jumped out and said he'd check to be sure they were expecting us for our “micro-tour”; about 45 seconds later he returned and told us all to come on into the front hallway. We did so, and he announced, “Welcome to your home for the next four nights! Go get your bags!”<br />
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Like I said, there's always a surprise around the corner here! We delightedly obeyed.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr0S4CQNbLawwqLnastgvrZfv-Op9gjngdzfjTvUrzBrJuzM9zQA4_lnBaXzqMVFKE3qp2dvfVxYZWC-U5NuQbBA7qbBF8K8_CcjNev8XXSwCLDpDdOpWj8cD6Tmx8ocV0r4GpXnVd9wcw/s1600/Ellie+at+piano.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; display: inline !important; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1575" data-original-width="1600" height="313" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr0S4CQNbLawwqLnastgvrZfv-Op9gjngdzfjTvUrzBrJuzM9zQA4_lnBaXzqMVFKE3qp2dvfVxYZWC-U5NuQbBA7qbBF8K8_CcjNev8XXSwCLDpDdOpWj8cD6Tmx8ocV0r4GpXnVd9wcw/s320/Ellie+at+piano.jpg" width="320" /></a>We were staying in the part of Abbotsford House that was built by Sir Walter Scott's son after Scott's death, and where his son and grandchildren lived. The house was lived in by his descendants until fairly recently, and it feels warm and lived-in.<br />
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We were assigned bedrooms, two of us to a room, and each one was more comfortably elegant and interesting than the last. We explored the whole house from top to bottom. The enormous kitchen was on the ground floor, and we spent a lot of time there each evening making traditional dishes from old recipes. It was marvelous. Eleanor wasted no time in finding the Bechstein grand piano in the sitting room!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhJJCwlPwHvRZuy9QVTD8yUYqWFNvftpPf-vA9mtJABZzAg1ClL5NIMixVjQd3cJ6yAqTyWx2Q1QUUPW3lVjTTnLM-U-sALjlkOBVAgZCv0t0TVzUVVadaDHBywZcMDcGUyVJWI53qSng9/s1600/20190207_084843.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhJJCwlPwHvRZuy9QVTD8yUYqWFNvftpPf-vA9mtJABZzAg1ClL5NIMixVjQd3cJ6yAqTyWx2Q1QUUPW3lVjTTnLM-U-sALjlkOBVAgZCv0t0TVzUVVadaDHBywZcMDcGUyVJWI53qSng9/s320/20190207_084843.jpg" width="320" /></a>Alison (our Elphinstone Institute guardian angel who keeps us straight) lit a lovely warm fire in the fireplace for us, and we spent a good part of the evening after supper, reading excerpts to each other from Sir Walter Scott's novels that, of course, were in the library.<br />
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I could almost have fit my whole house into the kitchen...but it felt homey and very pleasant.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRHthpmlt5igyOwjH5jE3_oxRWBRXUkUY7z0BTTGA3A5sEXllZsMd-Tj0HRtIBM7OqNsKaFKKtaaysQiHMjyR7PY-cuyFG5jFmD5AzUDnwQ_7b5N432PGTXK5tIjxmphDKpDv5UkpApA7J/s1600/20190207_094552.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRHthpmlt5igyOwjH5jE3_oxRWBRXUkUY7z0BTTGA3A5sEXllZsMd-Tj0HRtIBM7OqNsKaFKKtaaysQiHMjyR7PY-cuyFG5jFmD5AzUDnwQ_7b5N432PGTXK5tIjxmphDKpDv5UkpApA7J/s200/20190207_094552.jpg" width="150" /></a><br />
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There were staircases everywhere...we got lost frequently.<br />
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The dining room was huge, but again, quite comfortable, well-suited for a family of 18 or so. I couldn't quite get it all in one photograph! There was a small kitchen immediately off the dining room, which would be useful for keeping dishes warmed and ready to serve.<br />
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One of the more opulent rooms was the one with a canopy bed. Definitely not a rustic hostel kind of accommodation!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJlGnw-Xn7jRmOGKeUBrXZ-lVl5pwS-AzY1-bUI6-otATHQrah_H2Zmqb-EEOnDcgLoUXPdIKSic1EVT9bs44eHT8AtaGBmDgNu2l4wiLETLVhAy2dQ3MUGwX3hmWHjLZYW9TLq1PA06qL/s1600/20190206_175201.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJlGnw-Xn7jRmOGKeUBrXZ-lVl5pwS-AzY1-bUI6-otATHQrah_H2Zmqb-EEOnDcgLoUXPdIKSic1EVT9bs44eHT8AtaGBmDgNu2l4wiLETLVhAy2dQ3MUGwX3hmWHjLZYW9TLq1PA06qL/s200/20190206_175201.jpg" width="200" /></a>Each bedroom overlooks something beautiful: formal gardens with ancient stone artifacts acquired by Scott during his lifetime, a kitchen garden courtyard, a view of the River Tweed in the valley behind the house.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtySL3-0tB-4FqJKx_6eISdIiEkfxIZzgfmzKMM9hhy8Gcx4wNrP6KgCtjNsNWwNUiGe6nkJ8ClezL3BPWT_78h1ajbefr40ueeMdnUq1G3K_ODB5LVK37gO1H5b9_B-zrL9qr_ecy3HKQ/s1600/20190207_101555.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtySL3-0tB-4FqJKx_6eISdIiEkfxIZzgfmzKMM9hhy8Gcx4wNrP6KgCtjNsNWwNUiGe6nkJ8ClezL3BPWT_78h1ajbefr40ueeMdnUq1G3K_ODB5LVK37gO1H5b9_B-zrL9qr_ecy3HKQ/s200/20190207_101555.jpg" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoxjZK091WrqYSLD36OasOWIpoQ0UVFBFKBMBvVnlxSCU95cPj5HSZUdrxLdXGG7a3xj_XSB0glVHm8NAKvaTQNxUM-19gHaQMeUCAT8iVSb_Xi7lUbdspnYc3Z0yEaGvrw0GX8LlRPQjq/s1600/20190206_175153.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoxjZK091WrqYSLD36OasOWIpoQ0UVFBFKBMBvVnlxSCU95cPj5HSZUdrxLdXGG7a3xj_XSB0glVHm8NAKvaTQNxUM-19gHaQMeUCAT8iVSb_Xi7lUbdspnYc3Z0yEaGvrw0GX8LlRPQjq/s320/20190206_175153.jpg" width="320" /> </a><br />
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This was our home base for the rest of the Borders trip, and it was a marvelous Field School week. </div>
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The next day was spent in Jedburgh, home of the beautiful ruined 12th-century Augustinian abbey. Only ten miles from the border with England, it has seen more than its share of strife. The ruins that are there today are magnificent, and worthy of a few hours’ exploration. There is a tiny spiral staircase at one end of the chapel that leads to a balcony; if you can manage the climb up the narrow stone steps, there's a great view. If not, no worries: the views are splendid no matter where you stand.<br />
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So...Jedburgh Abbey is beautiful. I could have cheerfully stayed there a good part of the day, but in the rest of the town, a very important ritual was taking place: the annual Ba Games. We were there to witness and document it (and Dr. Tom McKean never passes up an opportunity to participate, either).<br />
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The Ba Games are a mysterious and puzzling tradition that has been going on for many centuries. Perhaps it symbolises the passage of the sun (night and day) and the turn of the seasons. Several other towns in the region also have Ba Games, usually early in the year, before Spring. Teams in the town (the Uppies and the Doonies) struggle to gain possession of a small leather ball that has ribbons sewn onto it. The ball is tossed into the air, and there is a mad and intense scrum to get hold of it and carry it to the goal. In Jedburgh, the Uppies try to get the ball and take it up the hill to the castle; the Doonies try to get it down the hill to the Jedwater. The Mercat Cross marks the center of the town, more or less the midpoint between the goals. As the teams / clumps of men or boys travel up and down the main street, sometimes it is hard to tell who has the ball, or indeed, who is at the bottom of the pile of people in the middle of the street. Whose feet are those sticking out...?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEievvqEfq_suwbMTmBVjG3OapJ7WVIMPNjxs35eOjIEz6cABEPHXaj3bLhA6DZJdy3eLsc6H4WVjBJ1m8bvR8lJEret0sKJEGCXwYVDUOaWbOHzJR44___yIDuehYUpJ2mzme0jajekbzOE/s1600/20190207_124610.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEievvqEfq_suwbMTmBVjG3OapJ7WVIMPNjxs35eOjIEz6cABEPHXaj3bLhA6DZJdy3eLsc6H4WVjBJ1m8bvR8lJEret0sKJEGCXwYVDUOaWbOHzJR44___yIDuehYUpJ2mzme0jajekbzOE/s200/20190207_124610.jpg" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjprqZYN2sAPXy_GpvvI-0zUv2jBzlRkZAyz3tgVUY6RK7rKdpy-UvEqb1bAbYP1rMmhsp5D3rdRWmoPv5oFPsSpDVrDQFMGJqP4PRdfKeSmscTJDs28IG-FOZyYO_6duXHmqnOfSB4rke5/s1600/20190207_124527.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjprqZYN2sAPXy_GpvvI-0zUv2jBzlRkZAyz3tgVUY6RK7rKdpy-UvEqb1bAbYP1rMmhsp5D3rdRWmoPv5oFPsSpDVrDQFMGJqP4PRdfKeSmscTJDs28IG-FOZyYO_6duXHmqnOfSB4rke5/s320/20190207_124527.jpg" width="320" /></a>The Mercat Cross is an interesting combination of Queen Victoria and fantastical beings. I was intrigued by the curious creatures and gargoyle heads decorating each side and corner of it. Are some of those pine martens, I wonder?<br />
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The games are traditionally for boys or men, but recently, some Ba Games do allow girls and women to play on their own teams. Jedburgh's games were for boys or men only. Sisters, mothers, and wives, however, often run alongside the teams, cheering them on (and staying well out of the way).<br />
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This lady's family has been participating in the Ba Games for decades; here she's showing me the small, leather-covered ball stuffed with moss or straw. She has stitched the ribbons into the leather (and yes, they definitely come off by the end of the day). Different organisations sponsor the games, and balls will have the sponsors' names on them.<br />
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Girls and women can toss the ball in the air for the teams, as in this video:<br />
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I suppose the high point of the day was seeing Dr. McKean (the blonde man in a black and purple jacket in the center of the circle) tossing the ball. He was also frequently spotted somewhere in the middle of the scrums during the rest of the day, too...<br />
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Building owners take preventive measures to keep windows from being shattered by placing wooden grids across the storefronts. Ironically, the 1812-era Court House didn't have any boards across its windows, and a ground-floor window was broken. That was the only damage I actually saw that day, apart from a few cuts and bruises on cheerful faces.<br />
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It was chilly and raw, and it was a great treat to stop in for a cup of something in the one restaurant that was open (although well-boarded up to protect windows and customers). This view was from inside, looking out between the wooden slats. I was rather glad the wooden slats were there!<br />
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The next day we crossed the border into England (only about 10 miles away) to visit Heatherslaw Cornmill, in Northumberland (https://www.ford-and-etal.co.uk/heatherslaw-mill). It is a fascinating and historic working mill on the River Till that has been grinding oats, wheat, and barley for over seven centuries.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVH1J65VKllWKexROpXEqMuibjd1t5mNEkbvipGvidMd9SXft0EaMDQ4OsV3LVd7P-qcQzlWsC5eY3E0p-EloZMFyseqHs_EI56Ul_ryjZT4VwDazQKHqlatu2F6R4H_5imIDli3mk0lmO/s1600/20190208_094221.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVH1J65VKllWKexROpXEqMuibjd1t5mNEkbvipGvidMd9SXft0EaMDQ4OsV3LVd7P-qcQzlWsC5eY3E0p-EloZMFyseqHs_EI56Ul_ryjZT4VwDazQKHqlatu2F6R4H_5imIDli3mk0lmO/s320/20190208_094221.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
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Don't be confused if you see no corn here; in this part of the world, corn is only a word used to mean whatever grain is grown in an area, like wheat, barley, and oats. But probably not corn as we know it.<br />
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<span id="goog_1811489959"></span>The river Till was flowing fast and furious, as it had been raining a good bit.<br />
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Dave Harris-Jones, the head miller, is a quietly enthusiastic guide, and he led us through the entire operation of the mill. The old building is not only where the current mill operates, but it is a history museum for the area. After business dwindled in the mid-20th century, the mill fell into disuse. In 1972, it was rescued from demolition, and it was made into a working mill once again, also serving as a history museum.<br />
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The mill is actually two water mills in the same building, each with its own water wheel and mill race. The upper mill is fully restored and produces about seven tons of flour each year. The lower mill is much as it was before restoration.<br />
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And the pinhead oatmeal (what I might call steelcut oats) that I bought at the mill makes wonderful porridge each morning!<br />
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We stayed in England for a while longer as we drove along the River Tweed to the Chain Bridge Honey Farm (https://www.chainbridgehoney.com/), where we sampled different kinds of honey and learned about the behavior of bees. The fragrance of honey and beeswax was delightful, and so was the heather honey comb! I had wondered why it was called the Chain Bridge Honey Farm, and we soon found the answer. Passing drifts of snowdrops along the side of the dirt road, we walked from the honey farm down to the Union Chain Bridge, or Union Suspension Bridge, built in 1820, which straddles England and Scotland over the River Tweed.<br />
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Fearless Dr. Tom slowly drove our rental van over the bridge back into Scotland, as we walked well behind, a bit worried about the signage:<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3m_Kq3zHd2bUAMi8XHiO-XCwBiiS88godZAGPnPbfJLusaocdlkCKyHPa2W1wJvIFj3piOlVZmYmxw3UbR3eqzCip9lCvdma_MdxYMG8bydA6D6g_Ln1rCqXEowLrKB1hBs-SK1eznPeH/s1600/20190209_115549.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3m_Kq3zHd2bUAMi8XHiO-XCwBiiS88godZAGPnPbfJLusaocdlkCKyHPa2W1wJvIFj3piOlVZmYmxw3UbR3eqzCip9lCvdma_MdxYMG8bydA6D6g_Ln1rCqXEowLrKB1hBs-SK1eznPeH/s400/20190209_115549.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiJeFR4WmDbkPVe4yHYGB2IgPJ2fx_CzHmmwGXlktc4lmbGF_yhoCRMDHMWZeqibrnqHd1zEXnoYBFln0q88Vrc4W06z9Hfm9e6pu8FfNfAPo2zBE2KkPom5LQVa_Q2FHiV8ofA0pU0lOY/s1600/20190209_114921.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiJeFR4WmDbkPVe4yHYGB2IgPJ2fx_CzHmmwGXlktc4lmbGF_yhoCRMDHMWZeqibrnqHd1zEXnoYBFln0q88Vrc4W06z9Hfm9e6pu8FfNfAPo2zBE2KkPom5LQVa_Q2FHiV8ofA0pU0lOY/s400/20190209_114921.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Eleanor documenting our progress from England, about to cross to Scotland</i></span></td></tr>
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The next stop was carefully timed. We had to arrive at the causeway to Lindisfarne, the Holy Island off the coast of northeast England just south of Berwick-upon-Tweed, at low tide. Much earlier or later, and we would be a boat. This dependency on the tides definitely shapes the workdays of the residents living on the Holy Island. </div>
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Lindisfarne is a magical place. The ruins of the old abbey and monastery on these windswept tidal islands still carry a lot of power.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI7Qt_f7Yoe0Umm2VOfAuMUxGUD21PwoQhvIbyhfJeaP1NrWNtwOcGqBRscSYQcmIvE6vVohMVX-o2nLoc697FI_yJic3nzeIQ4SIxX2aPuFd8xDmYDTJviyxqtcAdt5XQiDs2OeGHdIei/s1600/20190208_152548.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI7Qt_f7Yoe0Umm2VOfAuMUxGUD21PwoQhvIbyhfJeaP1NrWNtwOcGqBRscSYQcmIvE6vVohMVX-o2nLoc697FI_yJic3nzeIQ4SIxX2aPuFd8xDmYDTJviyxqtcAdt5XQiDs2OeGHdIei/s320/20190208_152548.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
St Aidan of Iona founded Lindisfarne Monastery here in 635 A.D., and was its first abbot and bishop. The beautifully-illuminated Lindisfarne Gospels were created here in the late seventh century A.D., perhaps in honor of St Cuthbert, who eventually followed in St Aidan's footsteps as bishop.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg81U2x54yM8FRIUP7asAVbuuY7EQVdxeEtzWb_AeZlypo1FrR_WqKndTsHYw3Cop0s5kM8tIznEEUdy4vW0iHkm1dZraMVdX2PMfctljHsdorlQG5-CASxj-ApRcEV-hBrbgp710gbQrc2/s1600/20190208_152640.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg81U2x54yM8FRIUP7asAVbuuY7EQVdxeEtzWb_AeZlypo1FrR_WqKndTsHYw3Cop0s5kM8tIznEEUdy4vW0iHkm1dZraMVdX2PMfctljHsdorlQG5-CASxj-ApRcEV-hBrbgp710gbQrc2/s320/20190208_152640.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
There is actually a fair bit of information about Cuthbert, and he had an interesting life. He tried to be a hermit (the Holy Island(s) are a good place to do this), but he was well-loved, and the world kept knocking at his door. Cuthbert died in 687; after he died, many miracles were reported from folk who made pilgrimages to his grave, and in 698 it was decided that he would be elevated to sainthood. This was about the time the Lindisfarne Gospels were created here. Today, the manuscript lives in the British Museum; it is one of the most beautiful medieval manuscripts in the world. (https://www.bl.uk/collection-items/lindisfarne-gospels)<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>The tiny island nearby is where Cuthbert <br />spent several years before he was made bishop.<br />He really did want to be a hermit.</i></span></td></tr>
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When his body was exhumed in 698, the monks were amazed to see that there was no skeleton, as expected. His body had not deteriorated at all.<br />
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In the 8th century, Viking raids became a real menace for the abbey, and St Cuthbert's body and various related treasures were moved by a complicated series of travels to the site of Durham Cathedral, which has become a shrine to St Cuthbert. (https://www.durhamcathedral.co.uk/visit-us/open-treasure ; take a look at the short video on this web page to hear and see more about the coffin and other treasures.)<br />
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Long way around to say that this place is still a Holy Island. Each year, thousands of people still make pilgrimages here. I was grateful we could visit in the off season, when we were the only people wandering around the island.<br />
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At dusk, we went to the small chapel next to the ruins of the old priory. The wind howled outside, but inside it was peaceful. One of my classmates sang for us as we sat in a few moments of meditation.<br />
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It was a day well spent in a very special place.<br />
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Looking across at the 16th-century Lindisfarne Castle, built about the time that the monastery and abbey were abandoned. The builders of the castle used many of the stones from the old abbey to construct the walls of the castle, and it was extensively rebuilt in the late 19th century. There is a beautiful walk along the shore to the castle, but I think I still like the old abbey ruins the best.</div>
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Inside the chapel is an impressive life-size wood carving representing the monks carrying St Cuthbert's coffin on its very long journey that finally ended at Durham, only about 80 miles away from Lindisfarne.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Sunset over Lindisfarne</i></span></td></tr>
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Our last place to visit before we returned to Aberdeen and resumed our normal everyday routines was another magical place: Rosslyn Chapel. We arrived Sunday morning just in time for the 10:30 service, which was simple, intimate, and peaceful. I hadn't known that the 15th-century chapel is still an active Scottish Episcopal church, but it is a vital part of the Diocese of Edinburgh. </div>
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The chapel became widely known after Dan Brown's <i>The Da Vinci Code</i> was published, and then after the subsequent film.<br />
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Unfortunately, absolutely no photography is allowed in the chapel, so I don't have any photos of the wonderfully beautiful carvings. Visit this website to see some lovely pictures of the inside of the chapel:<br />
https://www.rosslynchapel.com/visit/things-to-do/<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx3dpMbCA_8TQKYZ7hbYfTl_HeyI3eU0G_CUukROvdKGG9rkmON4pFpFzFchA9nUawDslcILNkQWekA2W6v2LHHenr-p2TXZNCYuXBnrEjWAosGdL5_bGosxqs3_RnN-Yl3flYnlepF5aZ/s1600/20190210_121924.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx3dpMbCA_8TQKYZ7hbYfTl_HeyI3eU0G_CUukROvdKGG9rkmON4pFpFzFchA9nUawDslcILNkQWekA2W6v2LHHenr-p2TXZNCYuXBnrEjWAosGdL5_bGosxqs3_RnN-Yl3flYnlepF5aZ/s640/20190210_121924.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Faces and creatures abound inside and outside the chapel; the pillars inside are intricately carved with animals, vines, flowers, musicians holding old bagpipes and fiddles and harps...</i></span></td></tr>
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Another chapter in this adventure comes to an end (with quiet apologies for the length of it). We are now back at the University of Aberdeen, picking up where we left off with lectures, reading, film-making, interviews, and a great deal of writing. </div>
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By the time I write the next chapter of my travels, it will be Spring here. The snowdrops have been out for several weeks now, the crocuses and daffodils are wildly abundant, and yesterday I saw several large azalea bushes in full bloom. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmWVL_XhUcLxm_Y7GiPy-8Ltq6E_ZOo7U9EzZSx2i0AjWPIkCt8JAUD0e0bWvVHp8DnoaqXYTIr_ay8aLqMewz90TM4PONdf4cm3V4TUxSBKqWO9jMOz8rsBJFUuWua0bar7u9yhJendSu/s1600/20190209_114437.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmWVL_XhUcLxm_Y7GiPy-8Ltq6E_ZOo7U9EzZSx2i0AjWPIkCt8JAUD0e0bWvVHp8DnoaqXYTIr_ay8aLqMewz90TM4PONdf4cm3V4TUxSBKqWO9jMOz8rsBJFUuWua0bar7u9yhJendSu/s320/20190209_114437.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
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Till soon! Thank you again for reading, and for supporting me in this adventure. And comments are most welcome, as always, either by email or at the bottom of this post!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>A brief stop at the grocery store along our way...we're waiting for Tom, who has the keys to the van...and hmm, it's a little chilly out here...</i></span></td></tr>
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Mara Sheahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00480187040864569478noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1145515984664273176.post-11689949338794882582019-02-03T10:23:00.000-08:002019-02-03T10:23:13.530-08:00Meanwhile, back at the Elphinstone Institute...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKhk9bHrRuvsng7rr4A6DMW-w9_8Bv1CbJ3K2oeAKdcSMSxzLSZYMn5yJhPkkwa5wiYGqf85PSfWPvww-LXqvrb76wUl0bqH5mXR0yH5XYEfMBnYQa34UsSegKMXPAdsjxNwAdKjsCxKhT/s1600/20181204_125952.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKhk9bHrRuvsng7rr4A6DMW-w9_8Bv1CbJ3K2oeAKdcSMSxzLSZYMn5yJhPkkwa5wiYGqf85PSfWPvww-LXqvrb76wUl0bqH5mXR0yH5XYEfMBnYQa34UsSegKMXPAdsjxNwAdKjsCxKhT/s1600/20181204_125952.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKhk9bHrRuvsng7rr4A6DMW-w9_8Bv1CbJ3K2oeAKdcSMSxzLSZYMn5yJhPkkwa5wiYGqf85PSfWPvww-LXqvrb76wUl0bqH5mXR0yH5XYEfMBnYQa34UsSegKMXPAdsjxNwAdKjsCxKhT/s400/20181204_125952.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
It might look like we're gallivanting all over Scotland in this program. Well, it's true that we have a lot of adventures at the Elphinstone, and we do some travelling. We'll be on another five-day long field school next week, southward to the Scottish Borders (stay tuned!). But there are some lovely things at home in the Institute, housed in the MacRobert Building, like the Buchan Library, where we often have classes. Then there's the beautiful Bosendorfer piano in the lecture hall...and fortunately, one of my classmates, Eleanor, is a good pianist!<br />
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She did mention that those five extra keys at the bottom (yes, it's a monster piano) are a bit disconcerting spatially, but it doesn't seem to bother her at all.<br />
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January 25 was the birthday of Robert Burns (Scotland's Bard), and Burns Night celebrations are plentiful from about mid-January to early February. The Elphinstone Institute and the Scottish Culture & Traditions organization joined forces to make our own Burns Night Supper a success. We all participated, from preparing carrots, leeks, potatoes, and swedes to make some excellent soup and the requisite neeps and tatties, to providing a variety of music for the occasion! Here's a short musical video taken by friends sitting way at the back of the venue, Dunbar Street Hall, so you'll have an opportunity to see some of us serving the haggis and neeps and tatties during the musical entertainment:</div>
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More musical entertainment links are at the end of this blog chapter, from our trip to Fettercairn, where several of us travelled to celebrate one last Robert Burns supper this weekend. Burns Nights are a really nice way to light up the cold and dark winter season.<br />
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And about this much-discussed phenomenon of very short winter days (it's real!--I bought another lamp for my room to brighten things up):<br />
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February 1, 2019...it's St. Brigid's Day today, and also the Celtic Imbolc, or transition from winter to spring. It coincides with Groundhog Day in the States, but I'm not sure there's a solid connection with that ritual! In Aberdeen, t<span style="text-align: center;">he days are beginning to be a bit longer now, and it's staying light until after 4:15 pm. It's amazing what a difference an hour or so more daylight makes; a month ago, the sun was setting at about 3:20 pm. By July, the opposite will be happening--we'll have just a few hours of darkness, but that's hard to believe right now. </span><br />
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<span style="text-align: center;">Here's a picture of a place I spend a lot of time in, the Sir Duncan Rice Library, at sunset around 4:30 pm on Jan. 21, 2019:</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRuhmv_9in8Z2e9KmKQwnvWBiZONVoTkLaekmskBawA9xvzYhdRd_klOn8Bk5EDM01ecUpfAiq1VedyqGS0XQVXuxp71EjIkEYyZ8UH1mGvZYlYq_GvjNharSzsvezHN-Wp7ZzjiSufoxc/s1600/20190121_163633.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRuhmv_9in8Z2e9KmKQwnvWBiZONVoTkLaekmskBawA9xvzYhdRd_klOn8Bk5EDM01ecUpfAiq1VedyqGS0XQVXuxp71EjIkEYyZ8UH1mGvZYlYq_GvjNharSzsvezHN-Wp7ZzjiSufoxc/s320/20190121_163633.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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And the view from the window of my flat overlooking King Street at 4:30 pm the previous day (that's the moon rising, by the way):</div>
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On January 21, the light would be roughly about the same at 8:30 am, tempting one to sleep in.</div>
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A week later, however, at 8:30 a.m., it's much brighter, <b>and</b> snowier! Along with the longer days, we now have a little bit of winter here.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkXjDpi5V7fLD4YpWzNOd2XdXvChfyfHdghbUAYoQcvGD-8cxGiUyAbKRwoML9FzpLZTZMyxEBNWV_RTpkxiECv2h4fbmxNTrHRZmTM97oZnJSkzErdhgovcpZewgeFIdxrTu-Z5dYqRmg/s1600/IMG-20190201-WA0001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkXjDpi5V7fLD4YpWzNOd2XdXvChfyfHdghbUAYoQcvGD-8cxGiUyAbKRwoML9FzpLZTZMyxEBNWV_RTpkxiECv2h4fbmxNTrHRZmTM97oZnJSkzErdhgovcpZewgeFIdxrTu-Z5dYqRmg/s400/IMG-20190201-WA0001.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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February 2: The temps have been dropping and staying down there. The River Dee is frozen over in places. My friend Anne Taylor sent me this lovely photograph of the frozen river as they were out for a walk yesterday. </div>
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February 2 was also our final Burns Night supper celebration for the year, this one in Fettercairn, Aberdeenshire, about 45 minutes' drive from Aberdeen. The party was in a beautiful old stone barn (or steading), and the night was cold, but our host, who is also one of our classmates, had heaters blasting and great food and drink to keep the company warm. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjveV_HrruURNJKnu8JLRqIQYfexcYGUHgm8clGwkLPpR5H1I4dsOA0Yv6fYcshhKpImYCMjIrHYMDPz2UXGxP6JvyC5zjMcD2DMmZL3vF6s6wufl8WOV9ubEUC0FNvRblftw8G_eC2am9K/s1600/20190202_200246+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjveV_HrruURNJKnu8JLRqIQYfexcYGUHgm8clGwkLPpR5H1I4dsOA0Yv6fYcshhKpImYCMjIrHYMDPz2UXGxP6JvyC5zjMcD2DMmZL3vF6s6wufl8WOV9ubEUC0FNvRblftw8G_eC2am9K/s320/20190202_200246+%25281%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a>More music, more Robert Burns readings, more haggis (vegetarian and regular), neeps and tatties, and an international flavor all added up to make a warm and spirited evening. (The Fettercairn Distillery is just down the road, and they helped sponsor the event, so there was some of that, too...) Some of the Old Fettercairn whisky got up-ended into the haggis as it was being addressed, causing some hilarity, but I'm sure the haggis was none the worse for it!</div>
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Even the napkins were delightful (below).</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw0ZPy6YzNvMqjsMfH3O0fKQuJNHDRhTDLW4TU5ifmD3mf6Bi7SrzUyAKm9IEG711cPFprAZA3I0QMarn_kcJotTlYAvNltsonC4EVKoPYFzSIIBjGYloHW0U7WG0puXbX-Ta6Ac7B7yR-/s1600/20190202_232344.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw0ZPy6YzNvMqjsMfH3O0fKQuJNHDRhTDLW4TU5ifmD3mf6Bi7SrzUyAKm9IEG711cPFprAZA3I0QMarn_kcJotTlYAvNltsonC4EVKoPYFzSIIBjGYloHW0U7WG0puXbX-Ta6Ac7B7yR-/s320/20190202_232344.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<b>Right</b>: Frieda Morrison (Scots Radio) as she gave the company a delightfully witty and heartfelt Reply to the Toast to the Lassies...<br />
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Our classmates at the supper represented some diverse places--North Carolina, Michigan, England, Scotland, and China. One of our classmates from Sichuan, China, plays a lovely instrument rarely seen in these parts, a pipa. As Wen-qiu Chen describes it to everyone who asks, it's basically a Chinese lute. It never fails to intrigue people who hear her play!</div>
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Eleanor Telfer and I performed a couple of fiddle and banjo medleys--Scottish and American--that we've worked on. Burns was well-represented with Green Grow the Rashes and Brose and Butter. This video snippet is the tail end of the American set we did, a version of Hangman's Reel. </div>
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As we rode back in the rented van provided by Jim, our kind host and fellow classmate, the night was beautifully clear and cold. In rural Aberdeenshire, you can see the Milky Way without any trouble. I'm still hoping to see the northern lights, but they were not to be seen last night. </div>
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February 3: This morning brought more snow! Because it is close to the sea, Aberdeen doesn't have the amount of snow that falls just 30 miles west of us, in the mountains. No closed secondary roads here, as far as I know! We do have fun on snowy days, even if we don't have more than 3-4 inches of snow on the ground. Wen-qiu sent us a picture of a wee snowman she made this afternoon:</div>
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More later, after we return from our Trip to the Borders, where we will discover more traditions that are new to us!</div>
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Until soon--and thanks again, to all of you!</div>
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Cheers,</div>
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Mara</div>
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<br />Mara Sheahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00480187040864569478noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1145515984664273176.post-27429638617010046152019-01-25T09:14:00.001-08:002019-01-25T09:14:20.485-08:00A new year, and best wishes to all!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Before the month of January leaves us entirely (Burns Night is here already, and that's for the next chapter), I need to catch up on a couple of the various ways the New Year is celebrated in north-east Scotland!<br />
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When I returned to Aberdeen from my Christmas holidays in the States on January 5, several of my classmates had been to a fire festival on New Year's Eve in the town of Stonehaven, not far south of Aberdeen. It's an annual festival with ancient origins.<br />
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Fire festivals mark the beginning of a new year in a dramatic way, with delegated townsfolk carrying flaming torches, baskets, and barrels through their village as everyone else lines the streets and cheers them on. The fire festivals may be associated with pre-Christian rituals where fire is used to ward off evil spirits and to purify the village for the coming year. Stonehaven's Fireballs, Burghead's Burning of the Clavie, and the Shetland Isles' Up Helly Aa festivals are all part of this kind of tradition.<br />
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I couldn't be in Stonehaven this year, as I was celebrating the turning of the New Year with music and dance at John C. Campbell Folk School in Brasstown, North Carolina. But while I was playing music there, my classmates sent me the video clip (above) from Stonehaven. It's short, but it conveys the excitement! Just before midnight on New Year's Eve, led by a bagpiper and accompanied by drummers, about 45 townspeople march to the harbor as they whirl flaming baskets around their heads on long wire handles. When everyone reaches the harbor, they throw their flaming fireballs into the sea. When the last of the fireballs has been tossed and extinguished, a huge fireworks display celebrates the beginning of a new year.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgschiaKhhX4KEYzEza3Xas09vX_yJTW1pxtEPWFkgJnENrMJVc9e9x-uNEtTGprDBaoQlM5GhCystfY3_wfYqtgCy17-iu-a1yLz8KKeYgiS45CfCjAAbtuGUv_Xn5ri3jTtEjPCG0UmL3/s1600/Building+the+Clavie+2019.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgschiaKhhX4KEYzEza3Xas09vX_yJTW1pxtEPWFkgJnENrMJVc9e9x-uNEtTGprDBaoQlM5GhCystfY3_wfYqtgCy17-iu-a1yLz8KKeYgiS45CfCjAAbtuGUv_Xn5ri3jTtEjPCG0UmL3/s320/Building+the+Clavie+2019.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">Putting the finishing touches on the Clavie</span></i></td></tr>
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But New Year's doesn't end on January 1 in Burghead, about 3 hours' drive northwest of Stonehaven. On January 11, 2019, our class and teachers rented a minivan and drove from Aberdeen to Burghead, Moray for the old Julian calendar New Year. There, another fire festival celebrates the turning of the year: the Burning of the Clavie (pronounced <i>CLAY-vee</i>). The Clavie is a giant torch comprised of a half-barrel, nailed to the top of a stout white wood pole with supports to keep it steady. Only traditional hand tools (like a very large round stone instead of a hammer!) are used to make the Clavie and to hammer the huge nail through it into the pole.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">A modern hammer, showing the scale </span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-size: small;">of the actual hammer used</span></i></td></tr>
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Pieces of firewood (staves) are loaded into the half-barrel, and the Clavie is carried to a spot near the Clavie King's house in the town of Burghead. Around 5:30 pm, people begin gathering there, and wait while the Clavie King and his assistants ignite the staves. An air of quiet excitement surrounds us. A few volunteer (?) police wardens keep a path clear for the men who carry the burning Clavie, which is supported on the top of the head of each man who takes a turn carrying it. The whole Clavie, filled with fuel and staves, and set aflame, weighs about 225 pounds, more or less. They use a secret recipe for the fuel, which is a highly flammable mixture!<br />
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At 6:00 pm, with its staves burning brightly and snapping sparks into the chilly night air, the Clavie is hoisted onto the head of the first Clavie man to carry it for a short distance through the town. The procession will stop many times to lower the Clavie, add more fuel to it, and transfer it to another man to carry it a bit further. They stop at houses and businesses along the way, sharing the flaming staves with townsfolk to light their own hearth fires from the Clavie. The final destination, about 45 minutes later, is the site of an ancient Pictish fort at Doorie Hill, overlooking the sea, and the Clavie is safely secured where everyone below can see it as it burns like a signal fire. Here are a couple of video snippets you might enjoy:</div>
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Everyone seems to be turning out for this night's celebration, which will last only about two hours. Families, small children, dogs, a few visitors from outside Burghead (like us!), all follow the Clavie to the rampart of the fortress and watch as it burns. It's a festive and social occasion; the children are just as excited as the adults, and I didn't hear anyone wailing to go home.<br />
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Every few moments, a few brave Clavie team men climb up on the wall where the Clavie is secured and throw more fuel onto it. The renewed fire hisses, snaps, and towers into the night sky. They take a few good whacks at it now and then to dislodge some flaming staves. As the staves fall to the ground, people scramble to get their own piece of the Clavie, which is good luck for the next year. Finally, the Clavie itself burns out and collapses onto the wet ground, and everyone can get a bit of the Clavie. (Yes, I got a piece, too!)<br />
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The rest of the evening is spent visiting several pubs in the town, having some of the local brews, or trying some of the excellent local whisky choices. The Glen Moray distillery is not very far away (in Elgin), and that's only one of many in the area.<br />
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We made it back to the University by about 1:30 am, having had a lovely time celebrating the beginning of the new year:<br />
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You might (or might not) recognize some of these same folks as members of a Galoshins mummers play that we inflicted upon some undergraduates just putting their toes into a a bit of folklore... Here, we are trying out different disguises for the play. I can honestly say that we rehearsed this, although our audiences probably wouldn't have known. But we had a great deal of fun, and it flowed a lot better by the third time we performed it.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWWvWDb_QTuLjPLagSxmYy5mkLmB9hyCjWlb5wO6ExIfdMPqIhosNsl7IUuM-wXT7TyDiTQ4DchkOKAqoEkSjtih10AZs8aTwdtW_Vef1twUU_J1ikhmc9CvbXaie4oVUzntElBHYlE_4P/s1600/20190117_115356.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWWvWDb_QTuLjPLagSxmYy5mkLmB9hyCjWlb5wO6ExIfdMPqIhosNsl7IUuM-wXT7TyDiTQ4DchkOKAqoEkSjtih10AZs8aTwdtW_Vef1twUU_J1ikhmc9CvbXaie4oVUzntElBHYlE_4P/s320/20190117_115356.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">Note the piece of wood hanging over the door?<br />That's our very own piece of the Clavie, put<br /> there by our Institute Director, Dr Tom McLean (also cleverly disguised in the picture to the right, where he looks a bit unsure of the sanity of his MLitt students). </span></i></td></tr>
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Happy New Year to all, and more news to come soon! (I need to divide these topics up into shorter, manageable chunks.) Next time, more entertainments, and a bit more travel!<br />
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Cheers, and thanks!<br />
Mara<br />
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<br />Mara Sheahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00480187040864569478noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1145515984664273176.post-13706418375743321392019-01-04T15:42:00.002-08:002019-01-04T15:43:50.541-08:00December and getting ready for ChristmasTuesday, 1 January 2019<br />
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Happy New Year's Day to all! I have been home in North Carolina for the holidays, and it's been even busier than it normally is. Three weeks have flown past since I came home. Before that, a whole lot happened--here are a few highlights:<br />
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<ul>
<li>Exams for the first term were done in early December. We all went for a very rewarding couple of pints that evening at the Blackfriars. Whew.</li>
<li>With a classmate, I spent a lovely weekend in Sheffield, England for the Festival of Village Carols (organized by one of our professors, Ian Russell). We helped out wherever we could, and both of us played in the orchestra.</li>
<li>A group of us went to a delightful evening at St Machar's Cathedral in Aberdeen, taking part in a Carol Service. What an amazing way to feel ready for Christmas...</li>
<li>Ceilidh! Our Scottish-Polish singing group at the Elphinstone Institute hosted a great ceilidh dance, with lots of classic Scottish ceilidh dances, and a few Polish folk dances as well. Not only was the music wonderful, so was the traditional Polish food!</li>
<li>I spent another lovely weekend in Midmar, Aberdeenshire, walking with friends, seeing prehistoric spots, doing musical things, and taking pictures of the beautiful areas around Midmar, Echt, and Banchory. </li>
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Some highlights captured during these adventures...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8r6uNuWfBlGUFjwAkn7tmO69ht-IrlqYzmXoBP9rFyypJCKhKi7afQPu0vgjgsBLrNUzDBFd2Gt2ZKGdcHz81FGK7NoQ_3y17Ga1sr9E-WHtIcnu-KF5puoo1if9-WNX42PM_ApFFd3FY/s1600/20181202_125232.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8r6uNuWfBlGUFjwAkn7tmO69ht-IrlqYzmXoBP9rFyypJCKhKi7afQPu0vgjgsBLrNUzDBFd2Gt2ZKGdcHz81FGK7NoQ_3y17Ga1sr9E-WHtIcnu-KF5puoo1if9-WNX42PM_ApFFd3FY/s320/20181202_125232.jpg" width="320" /></a>A trip to Sheffield! We were invited to participate in a very old tradition of multiple-part singing of carols. We were actually in the charming community of Grenoside, just outside Sheffield, in south Yorkshire. Just walking through the village takes you back about 400 years, and there are much older settlements beneath the moss and trees of the parklands around the town.<br />
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Fascinating bits of houses and dwellings...an old millstone set into an ancient stone wall, enormous thick slates on a roof, a weather vane bearing witness to the mining history here.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2tk4P-pPpwa76tyGRCv86flTItyYxsjIcL1fDJXT0E9Os_09ZwZgHlfgNUAXyci5xxC7drU0qoR89KZYbfdVDVcdcWCbFFNSSIU-wjcJd8OWYBVfcW3Dl-YB45lDxcBKqLVMt8Av0lcym/s1600/20181202_125723.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2tk4P-pPpwa76tyGRCv86flTItyYxsjIcL1fDJXT0E9Os_09ZwZgHlfgNUAXyci5xxC7drU0qoR89KZYbfdVDVcdcWCbFFNSSIU-wjcJd8OWYBVfcW3Dl-YB45lDxcBKqLVMt8Av0lcym/s320/20181202_125723.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicAogxTcm1L45QUqRyaMjU5IPMXapUCON7xnPrpKfekBw0__T9us3eBApP786_3vty1_sbymxUKSK8bBRcTt8uVdAMZgptmeKOPGvMvs3y6bFaICtCtzZxC5I-jQo0yt2X-UPd-PEG1ekj/s1600/20181202_125302.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicAogxTcm1L45QUqRyaMjU5IPMXapUCON7xnPrpKfekBw0__T9us3eBApP786_3vty1_sbymxUKSK8bBRcTt8uVdAMZgptmeKOPGvMvs3y6bFaICtCtzZxC5I-jQo0yt2X-UPd-PEG1ekj/s400/20181202_125302.jpg" width="300" /></a><br />
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The countryside is beautiful, open, with rolling hills all around. Not far away is the Peak District and the Pennines, a beautiful range of low mountains. Think Wordsworth, Coleridge, Yorkshire Dales<span style="text-align: center;">. The name Grenoside is probably derived from Anglo-Saxon and Norse words meaning quarry and hills, and it is well-known for its sandstone quarries. The area around Sheffield is also famous for steelmaking and cutlery. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj99gltZRaevQrLScIPGM8utAsbP3MVchUDjgKHy-0duvKBZThu2yKsRqW5ixVeAxs2XLnhtBiMtcceoZO-i-HBT6kMgFR1UKAPU-AQwFlwDYUjrvM7pxz4DIq1fwBHiFHBbvH9yhXZ9a99/s1600/20181203_120229.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj99gltZRaevQrLScIPGM8utAsbP3MVchUDjgKHy-0duvKBZThu2yKsRqW5ixVeAxs2XLnhtBiMtcceoZO-i-HBT6kMgFR1UKAPU-AQwFlwDYUjrvM7pxz4DIq1fwBHiFHBbvH9yhXZ9a99/s640/20181203_120229.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdI07TPMRkQCaw0OyH8lBJl057c4KrqSXLvHol53cM6LwRtliG99JvtluqADs0WqlfoN5g-zG3wW-m4BKUu1M-otoYwUMzd0-_hzQi_xGWiYEeQJ_aDBlQAmz_vfGBFnDfzdPsc_XXOY2A/s1600/20181202_120521.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdI07TPMRkQCaw0OyH8lBJl057c4KrqSXLvHol53cM6LwRtliG99JvtluqADs0WqlfoN5g-zG3wW-m4BKUu1M-otoYwUMzd0-_hzQi_xGWiYEeQJ_aDBlQAmz_vfGBFnDfzdPsc_XXOY2A/s320/20181202_120521.jpg" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjifvjaUZFX-WZdu8MQd0kY4xzL62QiVCxg8B7Ieu5M8_1ET_pCM1K-nSlA5-fqDZfXy-JUDVjMEk8gIy9fTnHaRooGkZwC3gWQYTkoxm0PKWbESzp-uXd0QjUzZt2-ucFuHY9ZFOqZo3EA/s1600/20181202_124010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjifvjaUZFX-WZdu8MQd0kY4xzL62QiVCxg8B7Ieu5M8_1ET_pCM1K-nSlA5-fqDZfXy-JUDVjMEk8gIy9fTnHaRooGkZwC3gWQYTkoxm0PKWbESzp-uXd0QjUzZt2-ucFuHY9ZFOqZo3EA/s320/20181202_124010.jpg" width="240" /></a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEherTvsc3F7yPIZhb2k2TnauYTrU1iYnZXF2GptrHwzy1ya2MziEGhen7OT00QAw8ou07VLxkSHxWeri2VKvXC4tTzoQ_Nig5R4_UsOM197hV6oFIQd3HmBkzWZe3DtzSNDkMCJSn5y48kS/s1600/20181202_124633.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEherTvsc3F7yPIZhb2k2TnauYTrU1iYnZXF2GptrHwzy1ya2MziEGhen7OT00QAw8ou07VLxkSHxWeri2VKvXC4tTzoQ_Nig5R4_UsOM197hV6oFIQd3HmBkzWZe3DtzSNDkMCJSn5y48kS/s320/20181202_124633.jpg" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJrLwmVMbd0nUYHNaSxJjtQiW-bV2rd6j8wAOtcadvIx9d1JxeunuRcwWYUZvUIwvJrbP6A7w5BwbRnk5hA6cOFTfPqzAr4SGE7LLbcdSoduAFGy6BD414SpDoVA4xc-Rt9Bv4Bslq4as1/s1600/20181202_124028.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJrLwmVMbd0nUYHNaSxJjtQiW-bV2rd6j8wAOtcadvIx9d1JxeunuRcwWYUZvUIwvJrbP6A7w5BwbRnk5hA6cOFTfPqzAr4SGE7LLbcdSoduAFGy6BD414SpDoVA4xc-Rt9Bv4Bslq4as1/s320/20181202_124028.jpg" width="200" /></a><br />
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<i>Walking with our wonderful hosts on top of a hill ridge above Grenoside, enjoying the brisk wind sweeping soft rain across the valleys, with just a soft hint of a rainbow...</i><br />
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The old Red Lion Inn was where we spent our first evening. It was the beginning of the Christmas season, and there are regular carol singing sessions of traditional carols that have been sung in Grenoside for centuries. For me, and for many from the US, some of the words are quite familiar, but they are set to different tunes to the ones I associate with them. And they are lovely. There is something absolutely awe-inspiring about being in a small pub packed with people, all singing with great enthusiasm, in multi-part harmonies!<br />
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There was more! The Grenoside Sword Dancers (http://grenosword2010.apwb.com/) took advantage of a break in the soft rain to entertain everyone outside for a few minutes. </div>
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The Festival of Village Carols also hosted some special guests from Sardinia, an ensemble of singers who performed some traditional Sardinian songs. The old Red Lion Inn reverberated with incredibly deep, resonant harmonies, and the pub audience was obviously intrigued and enthusiastic.</div>
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The next day was rehearsal time for the performance in the evening, featuring carols from both Sheffield and Darbyshire, and joined by several choruses from neighboring villages. Playing in the orchestra was a great experience, as we each played soprano, alto, tenor, and bass lines, according to our instruments' ranges and the balance of the sound with the audience's voices.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXd5Fqp2aVurUgiMyEg3ZRwEFBQlLEbRTHc9ji-n4562gzFkACQ4DqhPufjbh6OqB1cQihM3Vb-JaGsf-j2xVltKkUfZhN0cEq26x3m4KPIM1jonzOaRuzzFLS_q-ezhfueY3nlyQJxXSf/s1600/20181201_150012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXd5Fqp2aVurUgiMyEg3ZRwEFBQlLEbRTHc9ji-n4562gzFkACQ4DqhPufjbh6OqB1cQihM3Vb-JaGsf-j2xVltKkUfZhN0cEq26x3m4KPIM1jonzOaRuzzFLS_q-ezhfueY3nlyQJxXSf/s400/20181201_150012.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>View from the orchestra pit - Prof. Ian Russell directs the musicians and also the community singing from the audience. Some of you might recognize a friend and band partner of mine, Julie Gorka, who is playing fiddle in the orchestra. She made a surprise last-minute trip to join us in Sheffield!<br /></i></span></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWKEuCUPYMluFG8YFwDFJagGGpnby1j_w3GmX1EHpCelpZBhtksPjyW3wOK5Occvh2KVflN30jqIk-PNQ_qP6tl-r6JjnBsuCKzo94Q0FjftNIcscblX-AuUzPoz_or8glNwu-IVHcJFhX/s1600/20181201_155530.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWKEuCUPYMluFG8YFwDFJagGGpnby1j_w3GmX1EHpCelpZBhtksPjyW3wOK5Occvh2KVflN30jqIk-PNQ_qP6tl-r6JjnBsuCKzo94Q0FjftNIcscblX-AuUzPoz_or8glNwu-IVHcJFhX/s400/20181201_155530.jpg" width="300" /></a>Did I mention that we had a pretty wide variety of instruments? Here's one not often seen--a serpent! It's a low wind instrument that is an ancestor of the modern tuba, made of wood and often wrapped in leather. There were actually two of these in our ensemble. This one has a special accessory attached for a beer glass... </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>St Machar's Cathedral on a rainy night</i></span></td></tr>
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Other Christmas carol singing sessions during December were equally wonderful. The Carol Service at the ancient St Machar's Cathedral in Old Aberdeen was another awe-inspiring and joyful evening. (See video clip below.) It was, of course, raining as we walked through Old Aberdeen to St. Machar's, and the ancient church looked quite ghostly, but inviting, rising up out of the mist. On our way back, I couldn't resist taking a picture of the colorfully-lit Christmas tree in front of King's Chapel on campus.<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzsFpFFcZJ4kHLzak-oEC6-11ZH1qhAdfpee-0CnFZ2pYk1dIuOWHYYehV-pacyOwgOeVHx5bNLMsBlvU_W4A' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>King's Chapel, ready for Christmas!</i></span></td></tr>
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One of the slightly more unusual things I have become part of at the Elphinstone Institute is the Scottish-Polish singing group. They meet most Thursday evenings in the Buchan Library at the Institute, and share Polish and Scottish songs. I can't say that I speak any Polish at all, but I can sing a couple of Polish songs and make appropriate sounds that, in a group, might pass for Polish words. The Scots lyrics aren't quite such new material! In November, the Polish members of our group organized a ceilidh dance at a venue in Aberdeen. We spent the evening learning some Polish traditional dances, interleaved with some classic Scottish ceilidh dances. There was a lot of excellent homemade Polish food for everyone, too. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGtp7n3UMBGTQKTjkVs7a1o3uFRZIUhWemmewD9Unqr0w9R8zfaXWKgHbnvwlUR4k7oggz-x0XNXPq0NsMdy6q75mOhyphenhyphenwvgXj38Kn8or-uhyE2neaWqvkWcbYN6ctEHBohcEBaqa93HvOF/s1600/20181105_113210.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGtp7n3UMBGTQKTjkVs7a1o3uFRZIUhWemmewD9Unqr0w9R8zfaXWKgHbnvwlUR4k7oggz-x0XNXPq0NsMdy6q75mOhyphenhyphenwvgXj38Kn8or-uhyE2neaWqvkWcbYN6ctEHBohcEBaqa93HvOF/s320/20181105_113210.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
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<i>Ceilidh dances are opportunities for socializing and for general hilarity as everyone tries to figure which direction they are supposed to be heading in.</i><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhF1v6run-P8ab0IK6Njz-18jHxgis0oSKfJcYUNJnfBUksCr3AxgIAZTDRFTc8TBHJ_H8RuXfZ4F2TiP0Es4yuL_hSbLbKw7nJONAX4MgGTQQOsCaeCQjRD0bf8eFuUpCtkAy9wHKJRPV/s1600/20181105_110731%25280%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhF1v6run-P8ab0IK6Njz-18jHxgis0oSKfJcYUNJnfBUksCr3AxgIAZTDRFTc8TBHJ_H8RuXfZ4F2TiP0Es4yuL_hSbLbKw7nJONAX4MgGTQQOsCaeCQjRD0bf8eFuUpCtkAy9wHKJRPV/s320/20181105_110731%25280%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<i>The band--Danse McCabre Ceilidh Band--was great! Lots of energy, fun tunes, and a patient caller with a good sense of humor. </i><br />
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<i>Flute, fiddle, keyboard, caller...all add up to great music and good fun for all.</i><br />
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Anne Taylor, who plays keyboard in the Danse McCabre Ceilidh Band, lives on a beautiful farm outside of Aberdeen. (Anne also got me to join the Aberdeen Strathspey and Reel Society, which is great fun!) I spent a lovely weekend at the farm, which goes by the delightful name of North Tillydaff. The scenery is amazing, and it's sufficiently away from lights and towns that it is quite normal to see the Milky Way at night. I am still hoping to see northern lights (the Merry Dancers!) while I am here, but on this trip I saw more earth-based beauties. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQoO7kSim_yNeKtxvryB4_-TCNUM6tvt-j_l3r0zvWv4753WAWNH6YatrqmDQRPB6ktGs4iSzN0H_kI5Zymqu1bwP9q1XPCjng9nBE3l4CvfQxd1ARvDlZprhJpPYl0SlU6pvrE7tHsThH/s1600/20181208_134159.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQoO7kSim_yNeKtxvryB4_-TCNUM6tvt-j_l3r0zvWv4753WAWNH6YatrqmDQRPB6ktGs4iSzN0H_kI5Zymqu1bwP9q1XPCjng9nBE3l4CvfQxd1ARvDlZprhJpPYl0SlU6pvrE7tHsThH/s320/20181208_134159.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
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The current Midmar Kirk is a 18th-century church built on the site of much older ones. It's interesting in that the graveyard is in the midst of a Bronze Age stone circle and recumbent stone--a beautiful blending of pagan and Christian beliefs and history.<br />
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A large single standing stone next to Midmar Kirkyard. It doesn't seem to be part of the stone circle, but stands apart from it at a little distance from the church.<br />
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You can read much more about it here: https://canmore.org.uk/site/18001/midmar-kirk<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSzp3pY95OanoSYPvQv6bOy_psrumHG8UUp8oLom1vjMfz9L-9quYJ0gjqTeUJfaGC4fxmyAxuAb9YOtZEZi1NwRFxmqO3B5oep1n7Bfgo0OJWkKTUagYQBfM6PuD53IhiGiR2_455cWQt/s1600/20181208_153853.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSzp3pY95OanoSYPvQv6bOy_psrumHG8UUp8oLom1vjMfz9L-9quYJ0gjqTeUJfaGC4fxmyAxuAb9YOtZEZi1NwRFxmqO3B5oep1n7Bfgo0OJWkKTUagYQBfM6PuD53IhiGiR2_455cWQt/s320/20181208_153853.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
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Of course, it wouldn't be Scotland without gorse, that ubiquitous, tough bush that seems to bloom no matter what time of year I happen to see it. It has some impressive thorny defenses, but the cheery yellow flowers offset its prickly nature.<br />
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Unfortunately, these piebald-marked Jacob's Sheep (below) probably do not eat gorse. Goats do, I am told.<br />
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<i>A view of North Tillydaff, looking out towards </i></div>
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<i>Sunset over the hills near Crathes Castle, near Banchory, Aberdeenshire. </i><br />
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<i>Below is the castle just as the sun was setting at 3:30 pm. </i><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifTOeO2F4Fg6nPbOyCESlxS3OBf47KwGJ-KF5Z81lqN-6C-NHdq6RgPGcGPT_4HDsmbt5yyRs2sGOmMKFiI-FdDH2jxuptL-_ywLQKOG7L2x6W-OqYXiJ_mH0GWkuOAxOQeZ5fIpe8fTPQ/s1600/20181209_151742.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifTOeO2F4Fg6nPbOyCESlxS3OBf47KwGJ-KF5Z81lqN-6C-NHdq6RgPGcGPT_4HDsmbt5yyRs2sGOmMKFiI-FdDH2jxuptL-_ywLQKOG7L2x6W-OqYXiJ_mH0GWkuOAxOQeZ5fIpe8fTPQ/s320/20181209_151742.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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Portrait of Anne holding up a massive tree on the Crathes Castle grounds. The gardens are a not-to-be-missed attraction, even in winter. Walking through the grounds, you encounter a wide assortment of specimen trees, many several hundred years old.<br />
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The tree below is apparently what is keeping the steep slope around it intact; the roots look like they are growing out of the grey granite boulders.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifTXwdCNWHZxllOCGUPxVOCHnIqnIbGv9bhizciZ5ZVc5VcRNU8-GT4-V7bqwjKFZv6AY_FcRJak2Orf0xZ3YT4dDMytPrnhoJqj0NYnu19vhZthxXt2YeJ4an144ToCZsgAxoqay3jqLw/s1600/20181209_152401.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifTXwdCNWHZxllOCGUPxVOCHnIqnIbGv9bhizciZ5ZVc5VcRNU8-GT4-V7bqwjKFZv6AY_FcRJak2Orf0xZ3YT4dDMytPrnhoJqj0NYnu19vhZthxXt2YeJ4an144ToCZsgAxoqay3jqLw/s320/20181209_152401.jpg" width="240" /></a>Granite, I'm discovering, comes in many colors. Crathes Castle and several others nearby are what I privately call pink castles (like Craigievar and Midmar Castles)--the granite is almost a peach color. Aberdeen is the Granite City, mostly the grey sort, but I'm becoming aware of how varied the granite blocks and cobblestones can be. Textures, cracks, stripes, shades of grey, pink, tan, white...I'm gradually realizing it's not just plain old grey.<br />
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Enough for this chapter of the adventure, I think! You've scrolled down and down and down and stayed with me--next time, trips to Edinburgh and also to Burghead (for the Burning of the Clavie on 11 January--one of many fire festivals at the beginning of the new year).<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinSrQMm1jhicoXDd9Yg43_PwWVKmGzNptXkXEkPLXFqJEn4nCoEVjZZhPlQVr4c-E6fg5BcZsg93TvEljo2rvkPDsJfBblSbvzXpvE1p6cLv2Xmeu5f_umjKt1th61qt5FmHtzVI-Z7FQs/s1600/20181127_175230.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinSrQMm1jhicoXDd9Yg43_PwWVKmGzNptXkXEkPLXFqJEn4nCoEVjZZhPlQVr4c-E6fg5BcZsg93TvEljo2rvkPDsJfBblSbvzXpvE1p6cLv2Xmeu5f_umjKt1th61qt5FmHtzVI-Z7FQs/s400/20181127_175230.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">Two of the Elphinstone Institute MLitt students using an old traditional method--flaming torches--to light their way on a muddy path at night</span></i></td></tr>
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Thanks for reading and supporting me! More soon...please let me know if you have </div>
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any trouble with the video bits. I'm still learning this!</div>
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Mara Sheahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00480187040864569478noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1145515984664273176.post-59103080042479831632018-11-26T18:55:00.001-08:002018-11-26T18:55:13.967-08:00Autumn in AberdeenAutumn in Aberdeen... It's not quite winter here, but it is getting close to freezing, which you notice most when a solid wind greets you as you turn a street corner. Trying to tidy one's hair is a futile occupation. I bundle up and enjoy my walks each day, which can be an experience in time travel.<br />
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The modern route is King Street, where I share my journey with buses, trucks (lorries here), and incredibly brave bicyclists. Most of the granite houses lining the street were built in the late 19th and very early 20th century. It might have been quieter then, but there would have been the sound of cart wheels and carriages on cobbled streets and horses clopping by. At first glance, the houses all look alike, but each has its own way of marking itself as different from its companions.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIVs9ZGnF5aZ3fGq3qkXyPgfISt7wzGlEbIHKP0cnwiDRI-i2LWFtbQuyAx9wYCgQu1P-1gRYb57vaNdOVOM-UEPibVbmB4BbDy7ho_MSkDB1itv7WsbWgBedLcNnIEN1HY5vEQHXfViXa/s1600/Window1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIVs9ZGnF5aZ3fGq3qkXyPgfISt7wzGlEbIHKP0cnwiDRI-i2LWFtbQuyAx9wYCgQu1P-1gRYb57vaNdOVOM-UEPibVbmB4BbDy7ho_MSkDB1itv7WsbWgBedLcNnIEN1HY5vEQHXfViXa/s400/Window1.jpg" width="300" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXlf-xkkggWdL3EIaFIAu9budKg-RaraRAK1e6WrZD7mRykBS9SrylAcMuESVuUN7_SEy4SFhFQEZqFm8jEF5wdp2JFcbsBa6W9c5UqKjthGGHfZbQAb9eLZYpJO-qScEEYp1lNOfLGu0A/s1600/Red+door.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXlf-xkkggWdL3EIaFIAu9budKg-RaraRAK1e6WrZD7mRykBS9SrylAcMuESVuUN7_SEy4SFhFQEZqFm8jEF5wdp2JFcbsBa6W9c5UqKjthGGHfZbQAb9eLZYpJO-qScEEYp1lNOfLGu0A/s400/Red+door.jpg" width="300" /></a><br />
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Tiny gardens decorate the front of some; others prefer the look of unadorned gravel. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuRZkxKpVQ3b4S3n9gaVVGpjjaimD9DBc_6_wpbmip9owFl1Qzkqtenm8BJlLWVCMlIGNerRuxqtdmTGJLhvFrWEe15DgD-wz_hPEqkF67kKs5m8-WfER0EazZaBvf1tYA1y-MIM3pEIJT/s1600/Window.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuRZkxKpVQ3b4S3n9gaVVGpjjaimD9DBc_6_wpbmip9owFl1Qzkqtenm8BJlLWVCMlIGNerRuxqtdmTGJLhvFrWEe15DgD-wz_hPEqkF67kKs5m8-WfER0EazZaBvf1tYA1y-MIM3pEIJT/s320/Window.jpg" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuRZkxKpVQ3b4S3n9gaVVGpjjaimD9DBc_6_wpbmip9owFl1Qzkqtenm8BJlLWVCMlIGNerRuxqtdmTGJLhvFrWEe15DgD-wz_hPEqkF67kKs5m8-WfER0EazZaBvf1tYA1y-MIM3pEIJT/s1600/Window.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3bwxhwSUQTJtSZi3ez6udFrS6OaCeXFFM93iBML6GZCJrZL0LKjyp-J4BawFRKZDGaV-feeNa-W1H08s3jynGfEiv4HnNhlV8tHTEle1iMrPBP-BMtJly2bdf-1brt7qUBr2wOdClVeMz/s1600/Garden+wall.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3bwxhwSUQTJtSZi3ez6udFrS6OaCeXFFM93iBML6GZCJrZL0LKjyp-J4BawFRKZDGaV-feeNa-W1H08s3jynGfEiv4HnNhlV8tHTEle1iMrPBP-BMtJly2bdf-1brt7qUBr2wOdClVeMz/s320/Garden+wall.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
Many houses have low garden walls with mysterious holes in them. The holes are where there used to be iron railings and fences; the railings were sawn off and donated to the government during World War II. (Ironically, they may never have been used.)<br />
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Late autumn here is a beautiful time, despite the short days and often rainy, blowy weather. (Sunset is at about 3:30 pm right now, and sunrise is about 8:15 am.) One of my favorite walks is through an old graveyard next to the building my flat is in. The trees have changed color now, and dropped most of their leaves. Astonishingly red berries hang down over gravestones. Frost occasionally whitens the carpet of colourful leaves on the ground.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKPaPI6UK_TydcVLwIxZxtHWTQp3ODra3ZI1ptXy1hpMP3o_MFxY0ipWd7yYCrRoyMkDGXg_JM0qQjnuRYLF4W1sT_0rRal6QoPeeTl3hyphenhyphen-zFoo9tpvqVWSBxOngDHf48A0nivmLIJHzyk/s1600/St+Peter%2527s-autumn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="648" data-original-width="864" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKPaPI6UK_TydcVLwIxZxtHWTQp3ODra3ZI1ptXy1hpMP3o_MFxY0ipWd7yYCrRoyMkDGXg_JM0qQjnuRYLF4W1sT_0rRal6QoPeeTl3hyphenhyphen-zFoo9tpvqVWSBxOngDHf48A0nivmLIJHzyk/s400/St+Peter%2527s-autumn.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5lXzyE31XcK9cQbHU6V3lrygxijl0Mlh7ZB5q-6Vg52myVggxX4_uYwgqCcV9S04HkQQEBI4I7u5P9TO2iDVIQTYdMGJWJPssxaPzl2uLx23CBLntmfmqgzCVi9O0TZiDlBVllBqBV4dx/s1600/Frost+on+gravestones+and+leaves.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="864" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5lXzyE31XcK9cQbHU6V3lrygxijl0Mlh7ZB5q-6Vg52myVggxX4_uYwgqCcV9S04HkQQEBI4I7u5P9TO2iDVIQTYdMGJWJPssxaPzl2uLx23CBLntmfmqgzCVi9O0TZiDlBVllBqBV4dx/s320/Frost+on+gravestones+and+leaves.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ-K3rdkdc9JK1X9ZICTcqSSP_7i8IDnDmLHcYaPydc1snKFeTWOMUtIQWul5X6vT3X8tykr85umtDLOjKNdj86gNhGwV0v1AJrjb1sdB_JtTLct1kbgtIRZA9PhJhXAedOrxcEPmLgHmH/s1600/red+berries.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ-K3rdkdc9JK1X9ZICTcqSSP_7i8IDnDmLHcYaPydc1snKFeTWOMUtIQWul5X6vT3X8tykr85umtDLOjKNdj86gNhGwV0v1AJrjb1sdB_JtTLct1kbgtIRZA9PhJhXAedOrxcEPmLgHmH/s1600/red+berries.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="864" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ-K3rdkdc9JK1X9ZICTcqSSP_7i8IDnDmLHcYaPydc1snKFeTWOMUtIQWul5X6vT3X8tykr85umtDLOjKNdj86gNhGwV0v1AJrjb1sdB_JtTLct1kbgtIRZA9PhJhXAedOrxcEPmLgHmH/s320/red+berries.jpg" width="240" /></a><br />
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And in a sheltered planter, it's not unusual to find the last roses of the season.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaErQRBrC2cCCvv6mEc_udPBM1JMQu9hLGhgwubt1NTlFxB1hlwt0mqXF9Z1TuxmhhadQyTtULO3vPKjnakY-e6enTnECEjm2b5a_DrehyBSlXRS8nuyS1BhtLpgq0C_j9uDh24bART2f-/s1600/Last+roses+of+autumn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaErQRBrC2cCCvv6mEc_udPBM1JMQu9hLGhgwubt1NTlFxB1hlwt0mqXF9Z1TuxmhhadQyTtULO3vPKjnakY-e6enTnECEjm2b5a_DrehyBSlXRS8nuyS1BhtLpgq0C_j9uDh24bART2f-/s320/Last+roses+of+autumn.jpg" width="320" /></a>Another way I like to walk to class is the more leisurely 16th-century route, around the graveyard to the road called The Spital, and on up the High Street, into the old College Bounds. Here, the sounds are people talking as they walk to class, the occasional car tires stuttering along the cobbled streets, and bird calls.<br />
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This is the route past the King's College Chapel (1495), Powis Gate (which is not as old as it looks, built in the 1830s), tiny alleyways, and lovely granite walls. It's not the easiest thing to walk on a cobbled street, by the way.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7_vzA5BP9aHvPQuMdM8HpR8QHTGbuBZAg8FUJwE9L8_r3RDKZ6M23ENkyOKBrIcH7wpR_IV4KnmLp9C-z3qDemp4t3qnWIza8jFxLWe0cHpHvrH_ypLyCDSGP-_HwyzSTEKbBmt35Lit4/s1600/Cobbled+street-Kings+Chapel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7_vzA5BP9aHvPQuMdM8HpR8QHTGbuBZAg8FUJwE9L8_r3RDKZ6M23ENkyOKBrIcH7wpR_IV4KnmLp9C-z3qDemp4t3qnWIza8jFxLWe0cHpHvrH_ypLyCDSGP-_HwyzSTEKbBmt35Lit4/s320/Cobbled+street-Kings+Chapel.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">King's Chapel (1495)</span></i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsZ0Qrf9UZT872qKT7lwa6QRIT0vlyCH01jYRqDdvp3QRXO_7W3br7wauIiAIpIQa8GWQORSdB1hGYIZUJnu_bvOCdjFxYYgJP9F-29e4y7kgnZJRT7DqXjWtvEx5J0w0Upyskhfpgx_iN/s1600/Powis+Gate.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsZ0Qrf9UZT872qKT7lwa6QRIT0vlyCH01jYRqDdvp3QRXO_7W3br7wauIiAIpIQa8GWQORSdB1hGYIZUJnu_bvOCdjFxYYgJP9F-29e4y7kgnZJRT7DqXjWtvEx5J0w0Upyskhfpgx_iN/s320/Powis+Gate.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">Powis Gate (1834)</span></i></td></tr>
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<i>Alleyway </i><i>leading to </i><i>Sir Duncan Rice </i><i>Library </i></div>
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<i>from </i><i>the High Street</i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCBF1Us_Uir8B0iVJFHvtqEUDPT7XkBrhZnyJNiXRX1f-g9cQNQdKAMd4gYy-R-CTMw0U_JWXXoIylkws_BDBTtGtpc-PSbiGJjbzwH3YpvMdc2N0CHXt7e5TcaEZykpWsJF_Mu8sDMVjh/s1600/Confucius+Center+window.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCBF1Us_Uir8B0iVJFHvtqEUDPT7XkBrhZnyJNiXRX1f-g9cQNQdKAMd4gYy-R-CTMw0U_JWXXoIylkws_BDBTtGtpc-PSbiGJjbzwH3YpvMdc2N0CHXt7e5TcaEZykpWsJF_Mu8sDMVjh/s320/Confucius+Center+window.jpg" width="240" /></a><br />
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<i>Decorated windows along the High Street (the lower one was taken in early November, just after Halloween)</i></div>
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<i>Looking down the High Street from an upstairs window in the old Town House and King's Museum,</i></div>
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<i>University of Aberdeen</i></div>
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And speaking of pumpkins and the Hallowe'en, they celebrate it well here. However, their jack o' lanterns are not exactly like those in the States. It is actually far easier to carve the traditional turnip than a pumpkin, as our director, Dr. Tom McKean, demonstrated. For one thing, they're considerably smaller, and easier to scrape out.</div>
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Not unlike other countries, Scotland starts thinking of Christmas not very long after Hallowe'en. The Christmas tree in the market square on Union Street in Aberdeen went up before mid-November!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">Christmas tree (photo taken at 7:30 a.m.<br />--dark mornings here!) </span></i></td></tr>
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On most of my trips outside Aberdeen, I walk down to Union Station to catch the bus or the train, past the market square where the Christmas tree is. The nearby harbour is always full of ships, and the Maritime Museum is definitely worth a visit. Some of medieval Aberdeen is still visible here, if you know where to look for it. The Carmelite Hotel, although 19th century, may have been built on part of the site of the 13th century building housing the Carmelite and Trinitarian friars, who were there for three centuries until they were murdered during the Reformation. What is left now is mostly the names: Carmelite Lane, Carmelite Street (and Car Park), Trinity Street. Place names like Old Blackfriars Pub and Greyfriars Church hint at an older Aberdeen. </div>
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<i style="font-size: 12.8px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Old Blackfriars Pub, an excellent spot for good beer and great music sessions on Thursday nights!</span></i><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
St Nicholas Kirkyard, adjoining the lovely old church, is an oasis of quiet in the bustling downtown. I like to take a little detour through the graveyard and read the gravestones (there's a good map of them at the entrance). </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZqQAV3bOFYTmI-HZGvXTRS8gHKYJ32v6L5XZVWpitTLig8IJFt9kd465HflOw0qVFFMgjTi0DZlBwD3xdZ68_C5h9fT8ADYJWMnDppYABQZDkxPqnEfCYc2HOUJTAcLrkZDz2lzyECl1E/s1600/The+odd+head.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZqQAV3bOFYTmI-HZGvXTRS8gHKYJ32v6L5XZVWpitTLig8IJFt9kd465HflOw0qVFFMgjTi0DZlBwD3xdZ68_C5h9fT8ADYJWMnDppYABQZDkxPqnEfCYc2HOUJTAcLrkZDz2lzyECl1E/s320/The+odd+head.jpg" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEuXEODl_gGCJ-lHJLaGU2ZKXBuFWuSyyr2zMjfW4sOUZy2aA_Fiy6CgPjkXvYmvz-Yrb9Eo8POLAWZQJxeotc1KgnEoBITepcFSl5rozhUCfe9Sqq6871QEVHTF74YoGn16jGlZrnVFrt/s1600/Beware+of+seagulls.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEuXEODl_gGCJ-lHJLaGU2ZKXBuFWuSyyr2zMjfW4sOUZy2aA_Fiy6CgPjkXvYmvz-Yrb9Eo8POLAWZQJxeotc1KgnEoBITepcFSl5rozhUCfe9Sqq6871QEVHTF74YoGn16jGlZrnVFrt/s320/Beware+of+seagulls.jpg" width="240" /></a>There is no oasis of peace and quiet when it comes to seagulls. Seagulls abound here. The biggest seagulls I've ever seen, they are remarkably aggressive, too. I suppose something is officially a public nuisance if there are signs warning visitors about it...</div>
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<i><span style="font-size: small;">Crathie Kirk</span></i></div>
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Several of my out-of-town trips this past month have been out the Deeside Road, which runs along the River Dee just south and west of Aberdeen. Crathie, a idyllic tiny town about two hours' bus trip west, lies beside the River Dee, and has been a favorite retreat for the Royal Family since the 1850s.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1yTJhZeTIKKAic8Z6ViQI-2iR5_UjCG1dko_VeKOYOvBv7HN8LfAx1lf02dDOX7REbdPJZoFhxjvsB6seV_PFtY9Pt2aAqoeSSiQ7hOmQDWCguW1gtTSIa8Yc55xh5rL1OC1-JR5bAXac/s1600/Crathie+post+office.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1yTJhZeTIKKAic8Z6ViQI-2iR5_UjCG1dko_VeKOYOvBv7HN8LfAx1lf02dDOX7REbdPJZoFhxjvsB6seV_PFtY9Pt2aAqoeSSiQ7hOmQDWCguW1gtTSIa8Yc55xh5rL1OC1-JR5bAXac/s320/Crathie+post+office.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">The old Crathie post office</span></i></td></tr>
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The original Crathie post office, built in the mid-1850s, has been owned by the Thomson family of postmasters until this past year, when it was sold. One of the descendants, Bruce Thomson, still lives nearby. He and his wife own the Knock Gallery about a mile from the old post office. It's not only a lovely gallery, but it offers amazing views overlooking Balmoral Castle and dark Lochnagar, a mountain in the Cairngorms, made famous by Robert Burns. <br />
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Lochnagar is a magnet for hikers and rock-climbers, and is notorious for rapidly changeable weather. The picture below is taken from Knock Gallery, looking out at Lochnagar, which at that moment was shrouded in thick clouds.<br />
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If I'd just waited another 10 minutes...<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">View from Knock Gallery, Crathie</span></i></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">Grave of J. Scott Skinner</span></i></td></tr>
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So...a good part of why I'm here in Scotland is its music. On the early part of the trip from Aberdeen along the River Dee is Allenvale Cemetery, where the great Scottish violinist, J. Scott Skinner, is buried. He was born in Banchory, about halfway between Aberdeen and Crathie. Not only a violinist, he also played the cello, and was an excellent dance-master. He taught dancing for many years at the Balmoral estate in Crathie.<br />
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<b>More music, ceilidhs, trips, and news to come!</b> Visits to local violin makers...international ceilidhs (Polish and Scottish)...an organ concert in King's Chapel...a local arboretum... Next weekend I will be in Sheffield, England, helping out at the Festival of Village Carols, and I will be sure to have some good pictures and recordings of that.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">A glimpse of blue sky in a rainy week is welcomed!</span></i></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">Someone thoughtfully tucked a red rose in J. Scott Skinner's cravat.<br /></span></i></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhaKTdocWc-KO6TsrkR3VY-c_ZhQ81bawltBwBiMMCPnbZGQL-IfxwLWm2UvSpYmQ9-UQqMuB4Xf5vnhyphenhyphen9kn4uTeFB_I1koejUWhUMiCS-zpTB9UpiT0-cBIRNa3_5RfXWEJHnKEYWEDGd/s1600/Nessie+maybe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhaKTdocWc-KO6TsrkR3VY-c_ZhQ81bawltBwBiMMCPnbZGQL-IfxwLWm2UvSpYmQ9-UQqMuB4Xf5vnhyphenhyphen9kn4uTeFB_I1koejUWhUMiCS-zpTB9UpiT0-cBIRNa3_5RfXWEJHnKEYWEDGd/s320/Nessie+maybe.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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<i>And...a wildlife sighting in the koi pond of the David Welch Winter Gardens, Aberdeen. Could it be...Nessie?</i><br />
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<b>Thank you for reading this!</b> More stories soon...</div>
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Mara Sheahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00480187040864569478noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1145515984664273176.post-42995219948140851652018-10-09T18:58:00.000-07:002018-10-09T19:07:03.708-07:00<h2 style="text-align: center;">
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<i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">As promised, Part 2! </span></i></h3>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFQR7nfigwzG1Oo-xJxCaG9O6RZlrSHVE3LUwC6HJ06Z20pGPTIpqDP9o8K3w1-lyDREylO1-s6bGyHQJYMPE9Q9lPA8RuwSF9YKnuNhyphenhyphenPkO8veVBRk7LohEqjCZkQ9OTfdKjWq3dZVp6T/s1600/Lewis+map+with+names.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1129" data-original-width="1600" height="449" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFQR7nfigwzG1Oo-xJxCaG9O6RZlrSHVE3LUwC6HJ06Z20pGPTIpqDP9o8K3w1-lyDREylO1-s6bGyHQJYMPE9Q9lPA8RuwSF9YKnuNhyphenhyphenPkO8veVBRk7LohEqjCZkQ9OTfdKjWq3dZVp6T/s640/Lewis+map+with+names.png" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The ferry from Ullapool, on the mainland, to Stornoway on the Isle of Lewis (the Outer Hebrides) takes 2-1/2 hours. Once we got out into the open water, away from the sheltering inner islands, The Minch, as it's called, transforms into big rolling waves with a good bit of wind. (There's a great tune called <i>Crossing the Minch</i>, and yes, it was an earworm that day!) We reached Stornoway without any trouble, but we didn't have a lot of time to explore the town that day. We had more surprises in store for us.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">First stop: Ness, Isle of Lewis. We visited the <a href="http://cenonline.org/">Cultural Center</a> there and heard about the projects they are involved in to preserve and encourage the use of Scots Gaelic (pronounced more like the word <i>Gallic</i> than the Irish <i>Gaelic</i>). Only about 18,000 people live on the Isle of Lewis, with another 2,000 on Harris, a very rocky peninsula in the southern part of the island. Everything must be brought in from the mainland. One has to think ahead for grocery shopping...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Our next stop prepared us for how we would be living for the next four days, although we didn't know it yet! The <a href="https://www.historicenvironment.scot/visit-a-place/places/the-blackhouse-arnol/">Arnol blackhouses</a> are beautifully preserved and presented traditional cottages, the kind that would have been the main kind of houses in northern Scotland. Walls two feet thick; heavily thatched roof made of layers of wood, heather, and straw; peat fires in the tiny fireplaces; a few tiny windows--all combine to make a rather snug and cosy place to be when the wind and weather are threatening. The weather is always something to consider, and one just learns to dress for it. (Something about there being no such thing as bad weather, just inappropriate clothing...)</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3tp6ZwqhS6JxbBXw13_GLtjKJIcNeRRP-ZmZH55p2LBBOHUpuX6aTScyPE1dQJcqXbJfH_86CfsWe4b9IDB6ApdL5CmGm096v1O7vyHIxMvyS1TCizk4UVWOTm7BOddq2xPAVntUBr8sU/s1600/Gearrannan+pano.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="493" data-original-width="1600" height="195" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3tp6ZwqhS6JxbBXw13_GLtjKJIcNeRRP-ZmZH55p2LBBOHUpuX6aTScyPE1dQJcqXbJfH_86CfsWe4b9IDB6ApdL5CmGm096v1O7vyHIxMvyS1TCizk4UVWOTm7BOddq2xPAVntUBr8sU/s640/Gearrannan+pano.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Our next stop was where we would be living for the next few days: Gearrannan, or Garenin, on the far western coast of Lewis. Perched just out of reach of the sea, surrounded by hills and rocks (and sheep), is a community of blackhouses that was lived in until 1974, when the last three residents were moved to more modern accommodations on the opposite end of the village. The sisters, Anne and Peggy Macleod, probably appreciated the convenience of their new home, but with very mixed feelings. They insisted on being able to have peat fires still. And they were allowed to do so!</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRmE5kl5gwX_IR-biF2S8hbGbkXbvRBQPQoahyphenhyphenF8NEKR2dAZQGNNWSEBheBYsZR6ftG82ET7NQxkEA8-6GNj2Yb9n_TC8QX9lsqAQcZXIyKUMgL_cWcPSuwRLV35HUKzTu28Y88TRpoisg/s1600/3+sisters.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRmE5kl5gwX_IR-biF2S8hbGbkXbvRBQPQoahyphenhyphenF8NEKR2dAZQGNNWSEBheBYsZR6ftG82ET7NQxkEA8-6GNj2Yb9n_TC8QX9lsqAQcZXIyKUMgL_cWcPSuwRLV35HUKzTu28Y88TRpoisg/s640/3+sisters.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">We stayed in No. 5, where Peggy and Anne had lived. It had been renovated considerably (we had all the modern conveniences, and bunk beds as well, so we were not roughing it). This had to be a tough life. The sisters never married, and they were fisher folk; they traveled quite far to get work fishing. No grocery stores. Electricity only got there in the 60s; running water about the same time. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">We settled in and explored our new temporary home. The blackhouse across from No. 5 is the museum, and it retains the peat fireplace and much of the way a blackhouse would have been when the sisters lived there. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The stack of peats was outside in back of the house. Not that different from having logs out back, but the aroma of a peat fire is unique and wonderful. (I wish I could include that peat fire aroma in this short video, but you'll have to imagine it...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">On our last night there, the seven students in our programme teamed up to make cullen skink (the recipe is from Alison, who holds the administration of the Elphinstone Institute together!). Cullen skink is a really good hearty soup or stew made of smoked haddock, onions, potatoes, milk and cream. </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Even the folks in our group who were hesitant about fish found that it was a pretty darned good stew!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">After supper, we had a bit of a ceilidh in the museum blackhouse, gathered around the peat fire, using no lights or electricity. We told stories, sang a few songs, and shared an evening the way it might have been not all that long ago, and that had been that way for centuries.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">In our few days at Gearrannan, we made trips to some astounding places.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7Yt9wLNWR08kAup-g5LGdzFmrVnBJ06Oz9yHsMoODFPoA929UE3hSfeRO_XdlyxVrVJcF7Opagg_5wzBHzOGNaaiOfJS52YTDvdRI_ox9ZlFsrPXICkhi4ZV3oHLaApny4GhGwY8qJv8D/s1600/Calanais+burial+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7Yt9wLNWR08kAup-g5LGdzFmrVnBJ06Oz9yHsMoODFPoA929UE3hSfeRO_XdlyxVrVJcF7Opagg_5wzBHzOGNaaiOfJS52YTDvdRI_ox9ZlFsrPXICkhi4ZV3oHLaApny4GhGwY8qJv8D/s320/Calanais+burial+1.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The <a href="https://www.historicenvironment.scot/visit-a-place/places/calanais-standing-stones/">Calanais</a> (Callanish) standing stones are awe-inspiring. Situated on a hilltop some 5000 years ago, surrounded by small lochs that reflect the changing clouds and weather, these stones could tell stories...and I wish I could hear all of them.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">That night was the autumn equinox. We returned to Calanais through sheets of rain blowing sideways. The weather here is unpredictable and can shift in seconds. Mysteriously, as we drove up the track to the stones, the rain stopped, the wind abated, and a full moon appeared from behind the clouds. We walked silently among the guardian stones in the moonlight, feeling touched by more than a bit of magic. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiptgMHIviJj0J34RrQECvGgQ8CvxYZt30V9mPELqYz_C_MQElE7N36fML0v_1UEmgqVOSNzyOFTWzbtSNOzJ4fHXJm3C0yvoYhDdMP1hj8wmncfUu1MI0AnamY2lDG1yflLVsA5BjOf7Kg/s1600/Calanais+at+night.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; display: inline !important; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiptgMHIviJj0J34RrQECvGgQ8CvxYZt30V9mPELqYz_C_MQElE7N36fML0v_1UEmgqVOSNzyOFTWzbtSNOzJ4fHXJm3C0yvoYhDdMP1hj8wmncfUu1MI0AnamY2lDG1yflLVsA5BjOf7Kg/s320/Calanais+at+night.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;">Right: Calanais</span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;">at night</span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I wish I had a picture of the next surprise in store for us: As we turned away from the stones to return to the van, a moonbow stretched across the sky in front of us. I had never seen one. A perfect half-circle of shades of grey, a rainbow without the colors!</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0V2sOy_RYV8Dth0EZHDuMYEdggmUhRAYWWzG1Sq9D_6ufiK0t73UvF89wzlde8F8PKlwxb0-wSnpjr2SPTgkjaaimMXYHZk8hMbpzkn2gi1yz9jW-tq7OpiYJzZNLb48D3r3g59iZidmE/s1600/20180922_103118.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0V2sOy_RYV8Dth0EZHDuMYEdggmUhRAYWWzG1Sq9D_6ufiK0t73UvF89wzlde8F8PKlwxb0-wSnpjr2SPTgkjaaimMXYHZk8hMbpzkn2gi1yz9jW-tq7OpiYJzZNLb48D3r3g59iZidmE/s200/20180922_103118.jpg" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOHI-razSQTkjkaS1RpCb2pa1kkKXeCY0fCe1-Dp9KjmGHE0VTobpOrFftUhfSm2yHj5zIKWFTGCzgtVc9XmX7I-zbX1_LdAln9oARxHU3wJCCNcS0HRgXdWWaLOsI8bR3Q6O76MWqZ0GS/s1600/Passageway.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOHI-razSQTkjkaS1RpCb2pa1kkKXeCY0fCe1-Dp9KjmGHE0VTobpOrFftUhfSm2yHj5zIKWFTGCzgtVc9XmX7I-zbX1_LdAln9oARxHU3wJCCNcS0HRgXdWWaLOsI8bR3Q6O76MWqZ0GS/s200/Passageway.jpg" width="150" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">When we were not at Gearrannan, we took field trips, one to nearby Dun Carloway, an ancient broch tower that was very likely used for shelter and protection from seafaring invaders. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF9_xXf5eAC1YPWMCQ78eAJ_YcAfckXijpCiqpIZCrCSlZBWB4iB4VB0UxdnRa7bW4We0OUF_33EJx_NkxetpO1bf_flRjaN4XGSjGKwWrTktQz6nQ0ugJIDPFZ-5LRgymeMwrmmyizJwR/s1600/20180922_104438.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF9_xXf5eAC1YPWMCQ78eAJ_YcAfckXijpCiqpIZCrCSlZBWB4iB4VB0UxdnRa7bW4We0OUF_33EJx_NkxetpO1bf_flRjaN4XGSjGKwWrTktQz6nQ0ugJIDPFZ-5LRgymeMwrmmyizJwR/s320/20180922_104438.jpg" width="240" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5hLQ5KvxpqzL6UcvFzGCG4QAhvpfCojcW5BPFD6ixR6aTRJX7_3iHuubjV7oDhdMcLht9i_TSOyPp9DE6MqDcAyiG6JvCPTilQa3ptgSUE65SP-40YPeqCJlgwh3oXv3R30dk4gxOkiNG/s1600/20180922_103107.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5hLQ5KvxpqzL6UcvFzGCG4QAhvpfCojcW5BPFD6ixR6aTRJX7_3iHuubjV7oDhdMcLht9i_TSOyPp9DE6MqDcAyiG6JvCPTilQa3ptgSUE65SP-40YPeqCJlgwh3oXv3R30dk4gxOkiNG/s320/20180922_103107.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJC8q_Z07xEndtlKNSBe8xXUc4WCeAhlLyKckvYK1VEo2UZSFTM13d5y6e1Fn2kOSK7vmy55mdG0izuuze_GEFo_Pn2QkaCwhbVREbDB8hu3l_FnV1poh7Pl4SRVxbVqmMU6UQc2LgOeSc/s1600/Beasties.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJC8q_Z07xEndtlKNSBe8xXUc4WCeAhlLyKckvYK1VEo2UZSFTM13d5y6e1Fn2kOSK7vmy55mdG0izuuze_GEFo_Pn2QkaCwhbVREbDB8hu3l_FnV1poh7Pl4SRVxbVqmMU6UQc2LgOeSc/s400/Beasties.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: small;">Beasties in the field around Dun Carloway</span></i></td></tr>
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<i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Climbing up the hill to Dun Carloway</span></i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOW8VjVQMm3aMoEe-PCj3v-3Wof-gJe9OjDPepNT5i0uvgCNd-IhKpk09_DPzHSw5o4GAt5_fYjR2ndxYeekBYs1tuMzGShRnfJpQmvAR9etbV66iDOAIdHEJP8VQ58MtUyrYrVBtJ6wIk/s1600/Rock+climbing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOW8VjVQMm3aMoEe-PCj3v-3Wof-gJe9OjDPepNT5i0uvgCNd-IhKpk09_DPzHSw5o4GAt5_fYjR2ndxYeekBYs1tuMzGShRnfJpQmvAR9etbV66iDOAIdHEJP8VQ58MtUyrYrVBtJ6wIk/s320/Rock+climbing.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Another night, we joined the Ness Melodeon Band in a delightful ceilidh at their community center. Much hilarity, dancing, and a bit of spilled beer--a great evening!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">On our last full day in Lewis, we drove back across the island to Stornaway to attend a traditional Gaelic church service. Despite not having any Gaelic, I felt as if I were listening to poetry. The Gaelic singing of psalms is lovely, highly ornamented, and very individual.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">After we left the church, we drove down along the coast of Lewis, and I was amazed to see wide stretches of pure white sand beaches in places! No wonder the Vikings liked this place. It does have a lot of rocks and a very stony landscape, especially in Harris, but it has a breathtaking beauty.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">In Rodel, at the southern tip of Harris, we stopped at <a href="https://www.undiscoveredscotland.co.uk/harris/stclements/index.html">St. Clement's Church</a>, a beautiful medieval church built about 1500 by Alexander MacLeod of Dunvegan and Harris. It is the burial spot of many MacLeods, and it houses some outstanding sculptures (on tombstones, and also embedded in the outside walls). The acoustics in this hall must be fabulous, too...</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The beach at Rodel--not white sands, but a peaceful harbour.</span></i></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Much as we would have liked to spend much more time on Lewis and Harris, after a week of traveling, it was time to head home. We left our comfortable blackhouse, returned to Stornoway, crossed the Minch once more, and drove back across the land of lochs and highland moor and heather. One more stop for us before we were to return to Aberdeen, though--at the <a href="https://www.undiscoveredscotland.co.uk/munlochy/clootiewell/index.html">Clootie Well of Munlochy</a>, not far from Inverness. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The Clootie Well is a strange place. It is a remnant of very old ritual and tradition--a holy place where people still come to leave an offering in the well, take a strip of cloth (clootie), and fasten it to a tree. The tradition goes back many centuries, when people did this in the hopes of healing from a disease or illness. As the clootie would gradually disintegrate, so would the disease, or so the belief goes. That doesn't quite explain a hillside of trees festooned not only with hundreds of clootie strips, but also with shoes, bathing suits, shirts, baby clothes, and even a wood plane. It is, however, an undeniably unsettling spot. It is still a powerful holy place--many people come there on Beltain (May 1), but folk come there to leave offerings throughout the year. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Folklore abounds here. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">And so, we are now back in Aberdeen, once more studying and reading and writing about all these experiences, and learning how to see the world a little differently. Much work ahead, but it is enlightening and rather a lot of fun!</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: small;">My classmates--the new MLitt students at Elphinstone Institute!</span></i></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">One more short video, taken from the top of the hill behind the Gearrannan blackhouses, overlooking the sea...next stop, somewhere north of Newfoundland! And yes, that is the sound of the wind (apologies!)--it's fierce up there.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>More soon!</b></span></div>
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Mara Sheahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00480187040864569478noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1145515984664273176.post-31183113102494982862018-10-01T15:09:00.001-07:002018-10-01T15:09:26.110-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b>Field School - Part 1 of 2 (18-24 September, 2018)</b><br />
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Time is flying! The 1st of October already. Two weeks ago our class climbed into a minivan and went on a Field School expedition across northern Scotland, and out to the Isle of Lewis in the Outer Hebrides. We spent an extraordinary week seeing many well-known, and not so well-known places.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Where our travels took us 18-24 September, 2018</i></span></td></tr>
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If I had to say what the overall thread of our travels was, it would be something quite vague like "different facets of Scottish history, culture, and tradition throughout time." What we saw ranged from 5000-year-old passage graves, cairns, and brochs (prehistoric stone towers), 9th-century Pictish carved stones, medieval churches and fortresses, an 18th-century manor house, 19th-century fisher towns and thatched houses (called blackhouses), to contemporary holy wells and musical groups playing for ceilidhs. We participated in a Gaelic church service in Stornoway on Sunday morning.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigZNXwwnkUf0r68LV_-4Ym19i_NRvkqo6M1GhAr3QQ4Oczg0-Q5d8c0qzcYRYs5eECu5XcgLTqbuIsmS-Bco77RhsgAgw3LiHtpPmcvfGVTGoYQoq6CFoDluYHtRfLIq9xH5bUMaeU1dxK/s1600/Buttery.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1475" data-original-width="1600" height="184" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigZNXwwnkUf0r68LV_-4Ym19i_NRvkqo6M1GhAr3QQ4Oczg0-Q5d8c0qzcYRYs5eECu5XcgLTqbuIsmS-Bco77RhsgAgw3LiHtpPmcvfGVTGoYQoq6CFoDluYHtRfLIq9xH5bUMaeU1dxK/s200/Buttery.jpg" width="200" /></a>I won't go into too much detail about all of it, or you'd be here longer than you want to be. I'll just put in some pictures and captions that might capture some of the highlights. This will be part 1 of 2 about this trip--part 2 will follow in a few days. I don't want to lose my audience because they think I'm writing a book!</div>
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To begin with, we had "butteries" for breakfast in the van that first morning. These were new to me, but they're quite addictive. If I ate these every morning, I'd need the next size up in clothing. A little like a flattened croissant, they are indeed buttery and rich, and likely contain all the fat you'd need for the day. Quite good, actually...</div>
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Easter Aquhorthies (think something like "ak-<b>khor</b>-tees" for that second word) might mean "field of prayer." Ancient standing stones, with a recumbent stone that looks like an altar, have kept watch over this place for 5000 years. We were joined by another student from the Elphinstone Institute, who sang a beautiful old ballad as we stood silently listening, the only other sound being the patter of rain on our jackets.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Anne Greig singing "Andrew Lammie"</i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Closeup of one of the stones</i></span></td></tr>
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Portsoy - an old seaport town near Banff - home of the Old Salmon Bothy, a lovely stone icehouse, and a new boat shed, where the old traditional ways of building boats are still being passed on to those who want to learn. You can build your own coracle (a tiny round boat whose design dates from at least the 9th century), or a skaffie boat, or just about anything--they have all the hand tools you'll ever need!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>1834 ice house with boat in foreground</i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD32jYc2cFS4jdQH5LLzF8pNKCRes13R0T8jrIVMhBdMpOK3iWurCWgW-KOWiKgxqUCOrinDiIpEJcKcQh_4aWGC3VNhhQKZOcdQutx_PToji7S6q8yTc04TD52KdrGcJ7HU-iT6uU8YbW/s1600/Fish+date.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="430" data-original-width="993" height="138" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD32jYc2cFS4jdQH5LLzF8pNKCRes13R0T8jrIVMhBdMpOK3iWurCWgW-KOWiKgxqUCOrinDiIpEJcKcQh_4aWGC3VNhhQKZOcdQutx_PToji7S6q8yTc04TD52KdrGcJ7HU-iT6uU8YbW/s320/Fish+date.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Closeup of carved date on ice house--a lovely fish!</i></span></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPsWTGQzHf7eNLMnBFJpDJxZGrjwwo8LuWewfnEozkKXr3DJ6gZcauhHycI2MyTcXNjAo_mL6jpvZISluC1j_d-4cPqnW5BcsTYEBQRHZfI4ZScm2fe7diou13bPUqdNvCjqkZ0kRkm3jR/s1600/Barrelled+ceiling.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1200" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPsWTGQzHf7eNLMnBFJpDJxZGrjwwo8LuWewfnEozkKXr3DJ6gZcauhHycI2MyTcXNjAo_mL6jpvZISluC1j_d-4cPqnW5BcsTYEBQRHZfI4ZScm2fe7diou13bPUqdNvCjqkZ0kRkm3jR/s320/Barrelled+ceiling.jpg" width="320" /></a> <i>Right: Inside the ice house, looking up at the window (where the ice would be dumped into one of the three rooms like this--the window is actually at ground level). Note coracles stored on shelf under the window...there are more of these in the boat shed.</i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZHkcwksBGvJq2-8Q-QjadjKi-Piz20ihV6crdE2egzf13EUJUET6ugO8N0K1Bogimm-pHwHXbCYEKM36j6ohvP1VJwQv8zjLzBOnROm44UDnmsvXj1MbzxYHvwmrpvpslLYGjmwmokV_0/s1600/harbor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="668" data-original-width="1200" height="177" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZHkcwksBGvJq2-8Q-QjadjKi-Piz20ihV6crdE2egzf13EUJUET6ugO8N0K1Bogimm-pHwHXbCYEKM36j6ohvP1VJwQv8zjLzBOnROm44UDnmsvXj1MbzxYHvwmrpvpslLYGjmwmokV_0/s320/harbor.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<i>Left: view of a very peaceful harbor, and looking back toward the old town. Some of the stones in the harbor wall (which dates to late 1600s) are absolutely massive.</i></div>
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<i>Right and below: Inside the new boat shed. The community passes along the boat-building techniques to school children, who can come and build their own projects here. </i></div>
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<i>Left: I don't think I'd want to be sailing out on the ocean in this coracle, but it was done...</i></div>
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<i>Right: A wide array of tools hangs on the walls of the boat shed. Here is a very nice selection of new Japanese hand saws.</i></div>
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<i>Below: Out in the harbor, a lovely dolphin sculpted of metal cables, overlooking the sea. </i><br />
<i>He looks like he's about to jump back in. </i></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>View from the top of the hill above Portsoy harbor</i></span></td></tr>
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<i></i>We visited a number of interesting towns and historic sites--<i>Nairn</i>, where the Nairn <i>Fishertown</i> was a busy fishing and boat-building port for centuries, until the industry faded out in the mid-20th century.<br />
Something I thought was intriguing was that in the past, Fishertown was a close-knit community, with two family names dominating the list of residents: Main and Ralph. To distinguish one John Main from another (there were a lot), they used <i>bye-names</i> or <i>tee-names</i>--a nickname that got attached to the full name.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguR94xihmshbl7Jd_W0aaMoiNIqNWIUeGMPrpqq398tn13Yxy95l9l7SJFQneY1CbodQxip4GV6I33eQpT9TX-Ki6wYqmqb5XPtJiVc21Q1WU3Jl3QydrunWg6UzaBskvNAMbpHWSBXZFB/s1600/Sueno%2527s+Stone.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="450" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguR94xihmshbl7Jd_W0aaMoiNIqNWIUeGMPrpqq398tn13Yxy95l9l7SJFQneY1CbodQxip4GV6I33eQpT9TX-Ki6wYqmqb5XPtJiVc21Q1WU3Jl3QydrunWg6UzaBskvNAMbpHWSBXZFB/s400/Sueno%2527s+Stone.jpg" width="300" /></a><br />
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<i>Sueno's Stone </i>(at right) is an enormous (20 feet high) 9th-century Pictish stone that stays safely caged in a large glass box. I confess, though, that I enjoy the free-range stones somewhat more. This famous stone is actually in a small field surrounded by housing developments and traffic, just outside the town of Forres. It has many intricate carvings on both the front and back of it, and is sandstone, unlike the granite in most of the ring cairns and standing stones.<i></i><br />
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The carvings are of a Christian cross on one side, and a battle scene on the other. No one is quite sure what they signify, but some theorize that it might be the conquest of the Picts by Gaelic kings.<br />
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<i>Balnuaran of Clava</i> is a remarkably peaceful place, another sacred spot.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsTHfgJxdasHTfwRaP-GJhHBu9n-erXLXTF6Z10llCeChyphenhyphen4IhdGwKd4rA74YlAvF1Gi73uiENQq4hyphenhyphenWpIWMYfEfhcnidHu0oU2NRvMiJqAHlD4YT7ENKhhmlvGWHdu8xDuHOKJ3WTtQFcO/s1600/Clava+cairn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="539" data-original-width="900" height="191" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsTHfgJxdasHTfwRaP-GJhHBu9n-erXLXTF6Z10llCeChyphenhyphen4IhdGwKd4rA74YlAvF1Gi73uiENQq4hyphenhyphenWpIWMYfEfhcnidHu0oU2NRvMiJqAHlD4YT7ENKhhmlvGWHdu8xDuHOKJ3WTtQFcO/s320/Clava+cairn.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>One of the passage cairns<br />(as if you are looking down the passage)</i></span></td></tr>
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It is set in a wooded area on the fringe of several pastures, and it is obvious that a few of the standing stones must have been in the way of the road that was put in some 200 years ago, because they are conspicuously missing from the pattern of the circle! Three cairns with passage graves stand in a sort of triangle, with the central one surrounded by standing stones. The picture below shows an interesting set of twin stones that are part of a stone circle around a cairn.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWMZIQeSZLzXw42wkaOnVhS3TDw1HZIrONgnY4sF-k1qCNshM8eafaV6ierZ8j4DlNjlNeToRjFZraVxB-WegafxcZVPlf9oukSlMoJjvx55Z2cXZtUG59bffL_KtlE8Cnvhw_SrSoVV0j/s1600/Clava+stones-twins.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWMZIQeSZLzXw42wkaOnVhS3TDw1HZIrONgnY4sF-k1qCNshM8eafaV6ierZ8j4DlNjlNeToRjFZraVxB-WegafxcZVPlf9oukSlMoJjvx55Z2cXZtUG59bffL_KtlE8Cnvhw_SrSoVV0j/s320/Clava+stones-twins.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqHs25mf4g7m5CXvKtilm6QK8qTbzBu4IcUN20FaLolvCmcqFduo9HaPM5x1spxdCdij3vv23b2gMg7x2aUiMXT2S51yyG2ROM2Igw_Mh3QOVKhZX4A0ycuhGybK0ov8Rg-EHMaSIVQ-6k/s1600/Clava+cairn+stones.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqHs25mf4g7m5CXvKtilm6QK8qTbzBu4IcUN20FaLolvCmcqFduo9HaPM5x1spxdCdij3vv23b2gMg7x2aUiMXT2S51yyG2ROM2Igw_Mh3QOVKhZX4A0ycuhGybK0ov8Rg-EHMaSIVQ-6k/s200/Clava+cairn+stones.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">Stones on the inside of one of the cairns</span></i></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKQGdUM3Mt_-1wsYaia_2NWPdbMBWNXbrI-rM4NDkYS341-WV7kzuZLdv17_A7H-4DIvU_JqufXC2JlZW03Dlf8MPDLHTyKhA6yoDQXIKDSvuL0R9KcdyN8Pv5d7JYctPXCMz9w-TesWW6/s1600/Urquhart+Castle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKQGdUM3Mt_-1wsYaia_2NWPdbMBWNXbrI-rM4NDkYS341-WV7kzuZLdv17_A7H-4DIvU_JqufXC2JlZW03Dlf8MPDLHTyKhA6yoDQXIKDSvuL0R9KcdyN8Pv5d7JYctPXCMz9w-TesWW6/s640/Urquhart+Castle.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="640" /></a></div>
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<i>Castle Urquhart </i>(above)- a large fortress with 1500 years of history keeping watch over Loch Ness. No, we did not get a glimpse of Nessie--but we did find out a great deal about what she might or might not be. So many theories...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlznYl6jsE1-WcvgzYRZq8dOcgqvFlotD5u8hu-oiYezXdngu51McEZ2zOhrGssXTUD8NOGcN7zoPpxgHXpn69qDtkvoAQMch7_kwk0xKTIY795W-1bfR7jxpeME_qw7JvcmCvVMouIsvb/s1600/Urquhart+plaque.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlznYl6jsE1-WcvgzYRZq8dOcgqvFlotD5u8hu-oiYezXdngu51McEZ2zOhrGssXTUD8NOGcN7zoPpxgHXpn69qDtkvoAQMch7_kwk0xKTIY795W-1bfR7jxpeME_qw7JvcmCvVMouIsvb/s640/Urquhart+plaque.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<i>Wait!</i> I just remembered. We did get a glimpse of Nessie!<br />
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<i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcOz-Y3sebCAi_yD8tIk8KIB9A7eKzHldjLjV9zRDabYSJ3fO2yOKI3m9AEendv2llYQ1PHZq-l5yupks7E6E-sYMR4a5Cv6pvW_ZpPqtUN6BYLrh14lZ7Dhdw422tpA-fqxblzhgoGSR6/s1600/Nessie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcOz-Y3sebCAi_yD8tIk8KIB9A7eKzHldjLjV9zRDabYSJ3fO2yOKI3m9AEendv2llYQ1PHZq-l5yupks7E6E-sYMR4a5Cv6pvW_ZpPqtUN6BYLrh14lZ7Dhdw422tpA-fqxblzhgoGSR6/s400/Nessie.jpg" width="400" /></a></i></div>
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Okay, so...maybe she was just there to entertain the sheep. Onward...<br />
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<i>Balavil Estate</i> - the home of the 18th-century Scottish poet James MacPherson, now being renovated anew. If you have ever watched the BBC series, <i>Monarch of the Glen,</i> you might recognize this place. There is some amazing woodwork and architecture here. The original house was built by MacPherson, who died in 1796; it was renovated in the late 19th century, and is now under new ownership. There <i>is</i> a ghost, named Sarah, although we did not get to meet her that evening. (Some of us were hoping to.)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXOziXY4w85vxYqJoYZ30h4qX0eiJ7x2OX5rpf3q53Hxb_oG6FPxCzWzy0n1U9Z9Ds0ttL7Cv4AFLFyTxNGkYwk_gzm7jORD5QGfS_4CAawKtjX81sKZSy-ZiGpQ3rUmL2YUJEFHhRbu25/s1600/Balavil+arch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="667" data-original-width="600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXOziXY4w85vxYqJoYZ30h4qX0eiJ7x2OX5rpf3q53Hxb_oG6FPxCzWzy0n1U9Z9Ds0ttL7Cv4AFLFyTxNGkYwk_gzm7jORD5QGfS_4CAawKtjX81sKZSy-ZiGpQ3rUmL2YUJEFHhRbu25/s320/Balavil+arch.jpg" width="287" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjydhwpdHjaHxvE3F9JvIloYtYdEj2P3Sr_heQJqfrwQhxRSUXwLDkQVChPRqLlPMUT1s96uB867FPL7RmwWnzKRnRVA9hDicS2l88vGL744NcUcp4zLl199Ms26UhnweuPWmvP5d9ceH1G/s1600/Balavil+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjydhwpdHjaHxvE3F9JvIloYtYdEj2P3Sr_heQJqfrwQhxRSUXwLDkQVChPRqLlPMUT1s96uB867FPL7RmwWnzKRnRVA9hDicS2l88vGL744NcUcp4zLl199Ms26UhnweuPWmvP5d9ceH1G/s320/Balavil+2.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
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<i>Right: An elaborately carved wood arch surrounds some of the main floor windows. Below: Looking down the dizzying staircase from the third floor.</i><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8_Ga9R1KUPfbYrLPVkWanAwYArlgBFgxDwcI6AXxPW7C2iC-8erK-H-DdobHVIBk0m6fKjbk9n7lMPRfJ5zHhyWFEurYT3bSXx0eOretAZ9UPJdtqfXCp4jB_n3fTA-W-YLGrwBOYGZLz/s1600/Stairwell+at+Balavil.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8_Ga9R1KUPfbYrLPVkWanAwYArlgBFgxDwcI6AXxPW7C2iC-8erK-H-DdobHVIBk0m6fKjbk9n7lMPRfJ5zHhyWFEurYT3bSXx0eOretAZ9UPJdtqfXCp4jB_n3fTA-W-YLGrwBOYGZLz/s320/Stairwell+at+Balavil.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXpQM7qrh3ASlEJifZzQe2THuKfCktnJciu8do-Fkak4yYTWor6ne5Hro5wHZsQfQWNiDzbLhvS1ulZ8knMwTIzVR_k_jglNIDG7HEF8-xHDJw5T98EX0E0jmc5GGQ4M8SwhteCck-pRGx/s1600/20180920_154147.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXpQM7qrh3ASlEJifZzQe2THuKfCktnJciu8do-Fkak4yYTWor6ne5Hro5wHZsQfQWNiDzbLhvS1ulZ8knMwTIzVR_k_jglNIDG7HEF8-xHDJw5T98EX0E0jmc5GGQ4M8SwhteCck-pRGx/s320/20180920_154147.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">There's something poignant<br />about this photograph...<br /></span></i></td></tr>
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<i>Strathfeffer</i> - the home of a charming and very genuine-feeling museum of children's toys, books, games, customs, photographs, and clothing. The museum collects and displays only items from the Highlands. This is a wonderful place to find out about Highland customs and traditions around family life and children.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEierMsgIEVOJra9szQLzoruEb16Y5cT6S-dcmmh5i7HMvNiAcz16_Pq21uJJ84d6WYX5GHzEAT232PccGHcQ9rLBoO4jJFFOTAo6zE3nlx-Wg70J8OhAVVoDJHxkpeDCKH6YD071xI29Xmj/s1600/Children%2527s+museum.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEierMsgIEVOJra9szQLzoruEb16Y5cT6S-dcmmh5i7HMvNiAcz16_Pq21uJJ84d6WYX5GHzEAT232PccGHcQ9rLBoO4jJFFOTAo6zE3nlx-Wg70J8OhAVVoDJHxkpeDCKH6YD071xI29Xmj/s320/Children%2527s+museum.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdJDNgeHOUEga6flQIL03I2dss5OSaUWI5GTw2TXy7rjBf8FrGbkfW7nwvii6R8irBNoPzRPIv6G58TCFi6-i9MjzmgFznBu_e2UCzz3BL5Dy16_rtZuEl0y80eieeB6iHgRbcXR8DDPJu/s1600/Carved+pillar+at+Strathfeffer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdJDNgeHOUEga6flQIL03I2dss5OSaUWI5GTw2TXy7rjBf8FrGbkfW7nwvii6R8irBNoPzRPIv6G58TCFi6-i9MjzmgFznBu_e2UCzz3BL5Dy16_rtZuEl0y80eieeB6iHgRbcXR8DDPJu/s400/Carved+pillar+at+Strathfeffer.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
<i>The Children's Museum</i> is housed in the old train depot, which lends a charm of its own to the museum. As you walk into the building, be sure to look carefully at the pillar in front of you--it's a work of art carved by a local woodcarver, Allister Brebner. The carving, called <i>The Ascent of the Scots</i>, represents the history of the people of this region from its earliest times.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfKCyCN2Obo48sslIYCPQFgP1GIyyrv-5zOcmZIslQCGUK5Z3KQujStAkLp_oZi0EdyQNQRwHT36yAVj03veEzPE-2hn1y7z4KOI4ab1aMwAHyP1xVdOvGOXl7tdKJC-JEoL36uIqz5f7x/s1600/carved+wood+pillar+history.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfKCyCN2Obo48sslIYCPQFgP1GIyyrv-5zOcmZIslQCGUK5Z3KQujStAkLp_oZi0EdyQNQRwHT36yAVj03veEzPE-2hn1y7z4KOI4ab1aMwAHyP1xVdOvGOXl7tdKJC-JEoL36uIqz5f7x/s400/carved+wood+pillar+history.jpg" width="300" /></a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPJhL4kVtDx0Da0avRrgO2qgT461Ov-Ww7d-9Wth-1BvyB_1JFKVXZNQfYH__S-QhOBVToYk4pkvcvyhp6zss-n3jKSBVSOIhVL04PzAZKhb73deRR7R-XfATrrEUf4cZDx4zVuw9ow1c4/s1600/20180919_132524.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPJhL4kVtDx0Da0avRrgO2qgT461Ov-Ww7d-9Wth-1BvyB_1JFKVXZNQfYH__S-QhOBVToYk4pkvcvyhp6zss-n3jKSBVSOIhVL04PzAZKhb73deRR7R-XfATrrEUf4cZDx4zVuw9ow1c4/s200/20180919_132524.jpg" width="200" /></a><i>The Highland Folk Museum</i>, in Newtonmore, is a living museum, and here you can see houses as they have been built in this region for the past 500 years or so. The <i>blackhouses</i> are typical stone, thatched-roof cottages--early ones had no chimney, only a peat fire in the center of the main room. No windows. It must have been smoky. They also had a dirt floor, often sloping down to a byre, where several animals might be kept.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE5da3SfiNoIpdwj0RFcs4UlGA9cIm-otWtjlYufXfeI1AkH2BIxOcCw02uTEYen70N2tf3EyRrghN1cf-fq7YDN58EVm1EzFNcHGwoII0eQ4pHQna9gYUVi7sZJwYKbnntG8fA1pEdLZJ/s1600/Box+bed+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE5da3SfiNoIpdwj0RFcs4UlGA9cIm-otWtjlYufXfeI1AkH2BIxOcCw02uTEYen70N2tf3EyRrghN1cf-fq7YDN58EVm1EzFNcHGwoII0eQ4pHQna9gYUVi7sZJwYKbnntG8fA1pEdLZJ/s320/Box+bed+2.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>A box-bed, commonly used in blackhouses for sleeping</i></span><br />
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Later houses, sometimes called <i>whitehouses</i> (perhaps because they used mortar when building them) had windows, one or two chimneys, and a leveled, flagstone floor. The animals more often stayed outside.<br />
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We made our way from Strathfeffer up to Ullapool to take the ferry across The Minch to the Isle of Lewis, in the Outer Hebrides. <b>Surprise</b> is an integral part of this Field School trip--we never knew where we were going to be next, and often that was a wonderful thing, because there were some great surprises. More to come!<br />
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Part 2 - On the ferry to the Isle of Lewis - to follow soon!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>The MLitt class, plus a few friends--well-prepared for Field School!</i></span></td></tr>
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</style>Mara Sheahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00480187040864569478noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1145515984664273176.post-7247629309056037442018-09-16T13:55:00.000-07:002018-09-16T13:55:24.050-07:00Settling in and getting to know Aberdeen<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA3SXK-3FxKk6NTr2qvhfYbW6m0wpgy4e0P-jzOuaFzLZxcCSv2z0tGIAQsAwLwA58AsR8Shs6fgc8aXdvJZgAbJuAWj016rQ2vznB4z0vJ5h2iGONxt6qJOAmiaXwAEihMhR8b65yGVv2/s1600/Roses+in+September.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA3SXK-3FxKk6NTr2qvhfYbW6m0wpgy4e0P-jzOuaFzLZxcCSv2z0tGIAQsAwLwA58AsR8Shs6fgc8aXdvJZgAbJuAWj016rQ2vznB4z0vJ5h2iGONxt6qJOAmiaXwAEihMhR8b65yGVv2/s200/Roses+in+September.jpg" width="150" /></a>It seems difficult to believe that two weeks have passed already. Classes have started, assignments are due, the weather is getting just a little chillier (but still quite pleasant). The leaves are just beginning to change, but the roses are still blooming!<br />
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I've explored more of Aberdeen, and feel better about how to get from one place to another without resorting to the tiny, well-worn paper map in my pocket, or (last resort) using mobile data to get there with Google Maps! The downtown area of Aberdeen has city-wide wifi, which is great. This is a perfectly walkable city--15 minutes from my flat to downtown, or to school.<br />
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Last Saturday was Doors Open day in Aberdeen, when the public is invited to tour many of the public buildings that are normally off limits. I thought I'd see a half-dozen or so of the many interesting places listed. I made it to exactly one, and had a wonderful time doing it. The Kirk of St. Nicholas (the "Mither Kirk" of Aberdeen) was where I spent several delightful hours.<br />
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<span style="text-align: center;">I arrived at the church door just in time--a carillon concert was starting in a moment. I ran up the steps of the bell tower, and slightly winded but more amazed, watched the quietly energetic carillonneur, Ronald Leith, as he played a variety of pieces, including some well-known Scottish airs. He's done this for 40 years, and it's a joy to watch him, and even more, to listen. </span><br />
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I thought that was all, but no...people were climbing yet another set of stairs to somewhere else--the bell tower above. So I followed the bells...the bells...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimC7X-B9wW8Wa9ma8fMWOZ9bqmnJPA93KaSh-wwYtHu4Ukt-qqcAcKMCuaJnTbSmBkv2dRboIHFkmzGxhfgYFkR0wEIsT3Ujuf8hhg5KPAPNBhSoarbY5f32rd6LbWFoTeA5IqUJXLk6NB/s1600/Clock+tower.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimC7X-B9wW8Wa9ma8fMWOZ9bqmnJPA93KaSh-wwYtHu4Ukt-qqcAcKMCuaJnTbSmBkv2dRboIHFkmzGxhfgYFkR0wEIsT3Ujuf8hhg5KPAPNBhSoarbY5f32rd6LbWFoTeA5IqUJXLk6NB/s320/Clock+tower.jpg" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5ffa-pbRyo9zleFzFZhldhTGLPLw8-lwAht8v_lKdnFNsS_VD1Tdw6wFLjWkHLSXfcPITsskpkIi2DZ5iCw4pA9jM0mNTMX2avh3wotA4hQJeBKOIXhRC7NyZ2g5ugrQXDeAJlrBpJQEq/s1600/Tower+steps.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5ffa-pbRyo9zleFzFZhldhTGLPLw8-lwAht8v_lKdnFNsS_VD1Tdw6wFLjWkHLSXfcPITsskpkIi2DZ5iCw4pA9jM0mNTMX2avh3wotA4hQJeBKOIXhRC7NyZ2g5ugrQXDeAJlrBpJQEq/s320/Tower+steps.jpg" width="320" /></a>I climbed still higher, keeping a good handhold on the stone wall and whatever else was at hand. The stairs became steeper and more narrow. Definitely one-way traffic here--people coming down had the right of way. I wasn't quite sure where these stairs were going, but I soon realized that I was behind the face of the clocks at the top of the bell tower. (You can continue on up a ladder--I elected not to--but it's windowless and dark up there, according to a few who braved it.) The clock room was beautiful, though.</div>
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The hard part was coming back down through the trap door in the floor, placing each foot carefully on each narrow wooden stair as I descended. But I made it without any trouble, and went on to see other wonders in the church. </div>
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A significant portion of the church is being excavated, as a thousand years of history revealed themselves below the floors of the East Kirk during renovations. We were allowed to walk through the excavations, which were pretty amazing. As I picked my way down the catwalks into the site, I felt like I was traveling back in time 400, 500, 1000 years, to 1700, 1500, 1100, and perhaps earlier. The archaeological team continues to uncover ancient walls and artifacts.</div>
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Here are a few pictures of the excavation site, showing the old walls that were uncovered as the team dug out 12-15 feet of soil. Hundreds of burials were carefully removed and preserved for future re-interment in the church when everything is analyzed.<br />
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Overall view of the archaeological site:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNz4RsNeA-1I_QqhJzCmbqn0vge-hV0TFdDT8SsIeFscPKBLT8SWkX43fYoWTolDk3b9ruHvgQXVvOPTdTKDRT4IU0RRqCSYfeDwatQOQ5c8Qj2oP8Fbh1eN8vGhdoNT_Q2div11Wo50Ze/s1600/Medieval+wall.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNz4RsNeA-1I_QqhJzCmbqn0vge-hV0TFdDT8SsIeFscPKBLT8SWkX43fYoWTolDk3b9ruHvgQXVvOPTdTKDRT4IU0RRqCSYfeDwatQOQ5c8Qj2oP8Fbh1eN8vGhdoNT_Q2div11Wo50Ze/s320/Medieval+wall.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Exposed medieval wall under current foundation</span></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguvtiNe7cFBQUSoTb-dzN_2M9_M7OckTvJgRgbho2ffrLQf_fKmBAAor5QrCGu-D82OR-F4r4wAdadHgSS-ktFTH8ZO92SURmJ8-om_vT3bfrE4eNMoIy0F71slbMZ_mAWl4dmRVUiwsIR/s1600/Excavation2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguvtiNe7cFBQUSoTb-dzN_2M9_M7OckTvJgRgbho2ffrLQf_fKmBAAor5QrCGu-D82OR-F4r4wAdadHgSS-ktFTH8ZO92SURmJ8-om_vT3bfrE4eNMoIy0F71slbMZ_mAWl4dmRVUiwsIR/s200/Excavation2.jpg" width="150" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLpzJWC2EKNFt3Vw0NkjeliqQhn4sRTmoh8NFNjs6pYgHmzm15XTUc_7HwQb6RuJ9va_-fWARwPZ3hMEPxaBAGMCf_aQKPMWhdpaKeoiyU9i7lAZcdEfNe8gQGpQEyslYELY0B85GOPe1q/s1600/Don%2527t+drink+the+coffee.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLpzJWC2EKNFt3Vw0NkjeliqQhn4sRTmoh8NFNjs6pYgHmzm15XTUc_7HwQb6RuJ9va_-fWARwPZ3hMEPxaBAGMCf_aQKPMWhdpaKeoiyU9i7lAZcdEfNe8gQGpQEyslYELY0B85GOPe1q/s320/Don%2527t+drink+the+coffee.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
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Right: View looking into St. Mary's Chapel, from the excavation site below<br />
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Left: Don't drink that coffee. (It's incredibly dusty at the site!)<br />
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Left: Medieval (?) wall--work in progress.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnZKJ9o0hfvi_0V0MsxMyrfUuxryq0hIzXDuZMVFRKpIkcWMiZpbdpZYxexasrmi-R0dEpDb4vYxaYqLRdyz-2NvAw5WAGy8Mm5sdKv5nVFhVkN14mH7rQc-OKmHAjF-Lk_lJMcWr5rwer/s1600/Catalogued+stones.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnZKJ9o0hfvi_0V0MsxMyrfUuxryq0hIzXDuZMVFRKpIkcWMiZpbdpZYxexasrmi-R0dEpDb4vYxaYqLRdyz-2NvAw5WAGy8Mm5sdKv5nVFhVkN14mH7rQc-OKmHAjF-Lk_lJMcWr5rwer/s320/Catalogued+stones.jpg" width="240" /></a><br />
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Right: Everything is carefully tagged and catalogued.<br />
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There's much more, but that's probably plenty for the purpose of this blog. Email me if you have more questions or want to see more pictures.<br />
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St. Mary's Chapel is also being renovated, with some lovely stained-glass windows, as well as some ancient creatures at the base of each arch in the ceilings.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGkpv3e5XsXPK3sR8lT8Yq09_06El-_xxOs48kQuDTwdfYI2DBwsQDzEYfn32L2XaZHt6ghzq3eZzW0jyi-n_oc16V9imkBu1if6bN_7xPFJbWjcAx1jvDK1mr-JJLHACIqSQ3Kk0QLjQ6/s1600/Beastie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3llx11HK3rAHdw53150FW9609sPfYg8zc3gcork6zOqdz-rQ0-R2QORd5C6IbLPDmg2P4OmowpdyAkdIhRbZSjzHeNFFFBdZ7f8TgfGJF9d4FJMqZyvmaPtqKyTPUGXV_ap2Vy9PKUO5J/s1600/Face+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3llx11HK3rAHdw53150FW9609sPfYg8zc3gcork6zOqdz-rQ0-R2QORd5C6IbLPDmg2P4OmowpdyAkdIhRbZSjzHeNFFFBdZ7f8TgfGJF9d4FJMqZyvmaPtqKyTPUGXV_ap2Vy9PKUO5J/s320/Face+2.jpg" width="240" /></a><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGkpv3e5XsXPK3sR8lT8Yq09_06El-_xxOs48kQuDTwdfYI2DBwsQDzEYfn32L2XaZHt6ghzq3eZzW0jyi-n_oc16V9imkBu1if6bN_7xPFJbWjcAx1jvDK1mr-JJLHACIqSQ3Kk0QLjQ6/s320/Beastie.jpg" width="320" /><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuGDQdnkcS1LgnCbCxCLVDrZIi2PZXqYj9UlharG5zO5Gz5avX7jxGaVuljGmG5CiJIaQzsPIhaaPsCq-I6ZR0_KainHTLg_yyb7SgkIAgRsPvA7U7KNBC-UawZfXxjLEdKg_xn3LGUS6G/s1600/Renovated+stained+glass+window.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuGDQdnkcS1LgnCbCxCLVDrZIi2PZXqYj9UlharG5zO5Gz5avX7jxGaVuljGmG5CiJIaQzsPIhaaPsCq-I6ZR0_KainHTLg_yyb7SgkIAgRsPvA7U7KNBC-UawZfXxjLEdKg_xn3LGUS6G/s320/Renovated+stained+glass+window.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
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On my way home, I glimpsed an interesting person waiting to cross the street, perhaps a visitor from past centuries?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB28dS01rHNAtsUdC3u3Y2jEbD8owkb8-l2g9x0kYT_5Nn8YS3oK-VUZ7aDGRKAD1Dja8lKjSBoqEUeEY-o_2iwI7X_JM5iGxF-IPlnM_CQ8GbBOegwmpHv-oLzVvU5SiZPzNXICZ_nA74/s1600/Ancient+visitor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1020" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB28dS01rHNAtsUdC3u3Y2jEbD8owkb8-l2g9x0kYT_5Nn8YS3oK-VUZ7aDGRKAD1Dja8lKjSBoqEUeEY-o_2iwI7X_JM5iGxF-IPlnM_CQ8GbBOegwmpHv-oLzVvU5SiZPzNXICZ_nA74/s320/Ancient+visitor.jpg" width="204" /></a></div>
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More later...I believe I've been "blatherin' awa'," as they say around here. Enough for now.<br />
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Next episode: a typical walk from my flat to the campus; a short walk to the North Sea coast; a few pictures from in and around Aberdeen.<br />
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Our class is on a Field School expedition next week, so I will have lots of tales to tell after we get back from that trip!<br />
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Cheers,<br />
Mara<br /><br />
P.S. Let me know if you have trouble with the short videos, or if they work correctly? (I'm new to this.)</div>
Mara Sheahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00480187040864569478noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1145515984664273176.post-57231225188271403502018-09-04T17:20:00.001-07:002018-09-04T17:20:48.063-07:00I have landed! All went smoothly (even with a missed connection from Heathrow to Aberdeen), and my luggage appeared on the carousel in Aberdeen. Miraculous!<br />
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I spent most of the first 24 hours getting things settled in my dorm room, which is quite nice--late IKEA, by the looks of it. Clean, minimalist, easy 15-minute walk to the University, and on a bus line. The grocery store is only a 15-minute walk away, too.<br />
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The jet lag has evaporated, and today was the first real day of class. We have an ambitious term ahead of us! Much to learn, but it also includes a good bit of field school. Classes meet on each Tuesday and Thursday, from 10 a.m. to 6 p.m. We'll spend the third week of September traveling in a mini-bus from one side of northern Scotland to the other, exploring historical sites and being introduced to the whole idea of interviewing people, recording what we see and hear, and learning to document and archive. I see lots of reading and writing in my near future!<br />
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Next week I will be a member of the Scottish Culture and Traditions staff, playing in a concert with all the tutors for SC&T. The American Traditional Fiddle Tunes class I'm assigned to lead begins on September 25, after I return from the field school.<br />
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Today our class went on a guided walking tour of Old Aberdeen--it was a perfect day for it, as it wasn't cold, and it wasn't raining!<br />
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Interesting note: if you need to mail a letter, take a look at the bright red letter box and see what is on the front of it. If it's "VR," that indicates that it was made during Queen Victoria's reign (Victoria Regina).<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbTlpbo7YS3QrbUdcibHNeCdnRixMHpHk-yKVdM66uYd6oExByNn1syCmsDpKH6ybSwUuV3GRpD1Lug5DJ_6rHasYpt-wEUEOTu7cOJSmjfn9Kzc394w5MN0h-bIoDCxhT3qwNMpVcYDw8/s1600/Letter+box.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="968" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbTlpbo7YS3QrbUdcibHNeCdnRixMHpHk-yKVdM66uYd6oExByNn1syCmsDpKH6ybSwUuV3GRpD1Lug5DJ_6rHasYpt-wEUEOTu7cOJSmjfn9Kzc394w5MN0h-bIoDCxhT3qwNMpVcYDw8/s400/Letter+box.jpg" width="241" /></a></div>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJs_bI28pU3Zp9uexN3M2i5k-H8WH8KZfpt_y9ED9azE51mYLZdocrq7K7FkH4gIPRsgkvrr26uCF_y3cxi9Wps4gh4zPbkwUK9cV6bXaWeUbQBJLIHhPNzzl5w-EOAq_6yiMkez2SO7Sm/s1600/King%2527s+College.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJs_bI28pU3Zp9uexN3M2i5k-H8WH8KZfpt_y9ED9azE51mYLZdocrq7K7FkH4gIPRsgkvrr26uCF_y3cxi9Wps4gh4zPbkwUK9cV6bXaWeUbQBJLIHhPNzzl5w-EOAq_6yiMkez2SO7Sm/s320/King%2527s+College.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-size: small;">King's College and the King's College Chapel is a beautiful spot to walk, admire, and leave the present day behind. The buildings date from the early 1500s.<br /></span></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdPdSr4uku6oUOUdFdFszIUUosNSvwQoKz96TYO1-lXsfmq0o5JGu-h_XfQwlE83tPLGl5qiz-reyRqi_VRYU5d552IqRFZs9rZu6Slh_EPjD4oWLHBbP-1C6td_cWRr74K2L29298liQ6/s1600/King%2527s+College+Chapel2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdPdSr4uku6oUOUdFdFszIUUosNSvwQoKz96TYO1-lXsfmq0o5JGu-h_XfQwlE83tPLGl5qiz-reyRqi_VRYU5d552IqRFZs9rZu6Slh_EPjD4oWLHBbP-1C6td_cWRr74K2L29298liQ6/s320/King%2527s+College+Chapel2.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
Inside the chapel is the tomb of Bishop Elphinstone, the founder of the University in 1495. Beautifully carved choir benches line the walls.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhph53OrMofbJhr20NCz_D0a0CR-N7cqAuBTgqmVDemckIZVABA6Iw5mhCZbmB3alyUi1CXm8_tWSRYGJh9LEckCc_TnDQzwWXK9JEGTDLNsEOREK17xwPQWFDPeBdtxoSEOI4HMf61GqD6/s1600/Cloister+walls.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1200" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhph53OrMofbJhr20NCz_D0a0CR-N7cqAuBTgqmVDemckIZVABA6Iw5mhCZbmB3alyUi1CXm8_tWSRYGJh9LEckCc_TnDQzwWXK9JEGTDLNsEOREK17xwPQWFDPeBdtxoSEOI4HMf61GqD6/s320/Cloister+walls.jpg" width="320" /></a>Outside in the cloister, colorful coats of arms contrast with granite walls.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhglL_FhOdP9HBoL7kF5fPFXO7xLzL9KwbhOLrO4wmco1Uzgxe-iK6z4d2sihrpj2miKnOSTK-HnBnlbLO9KuqxLaczhfVf_e6ySQyCmtGKHrm4-11XfDHVakqRxJjNIEW62BnMS2r_Bz6B/s1600/Coat+of+arms.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhglL_FhOdP9HBoL7kF5fPFXO7xLzL9KwbhOLrO4wmco1Uzgxe-iK6z4d2sihrpj2miKnOSTK-HnBnlbLO9KuqxLaczhfVf_e6ySQyCmtGKHrm4-11XfDHVakqRxJjNIEW62BnMS2r_Bz6B/s320/Coat+of+arms.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVXNRezy8Xm7r-EmnvNRJiTvCncUilcZLx8Aq7BD0HVj5pupPSKLDaA9P9zR1eDwZvfZmV4NliAKXHCFrmnsGOIZVELkwSrGuSpnqjqqIQBxXejL5JwkoS00IoT3zT7VLF0EuuCR-3KJxI/s1600/Granite+wall.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVXNRezy8Xm7r-EmnvNRJiTvCncUilcZLx8Aq7BD0HVj5pupPSKLDaA9P9zR1eDwZvfZmV4NliAKXHCFrmnsGOIZVELkwSrGuSpnqjqqIQBxXejL5JwkoS00IoT3zT7VLF0EuuCR-3KJxI/s320/Granite+wall.jpg" width="240" /></a>Many of Aberdeen's old buildings are constructed of granite--no surprise that it is known as The Granite City. The mortar lines between the blocks of granite are often decorated with small, sparkly pieces of granite, or sometimes with bits of shells.<br />
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The River Don is on the north side of Aberdeen, flowing into the North Sea. At low tide, seals like to soak up the warm sun on the sand bars, and frequently appear briefly on the river surface. You might see a sleek head bob up above the water for a moment, ducking out of sight and reappearing farther away in a moment or two. We spotted two adults and a youngster today, sunbathing on the sand.<br />
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A short and scenic walk away from the North Sea back towards Old Aberdeen leads you to the Brig o' Balgownie. The sign on the beautiful medieval stone bridge states that it is one of the oldest in Britain, and was completed about 1320, perhaps at the orders of Robert the Bruce. It has a graceful Gothic arch, visible if you walk along the river on the south side.<br />
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It seems to be a spot where graduating students are tempted to celebrate by jumping into the River Don from the bridge! As a signpost on the bridge advises, this is a terribly bad idea, as the water is shallow!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg64lfhyXMswNJJ0pKH-lFnwpRC6E9yZJohAwwLEQY6AV3Az1eCk-JXwEtNsv0cAkmAGb8HcplR7UWWd_JXg5sIai9ioTESw9lpNuX6MvpX4SrV9q9Mqr9aV8cO2gptK729HBqqYR81AjiP/s1600/River+Don+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg64lfhyXMswNJJ0pKH-lFnwpRC6E9yZJohAwwLEQY6AV3Az1eCk-JXwEtNsv0cAkmAGb8HcplR7UWWd_JXg5sIai9ioTESw9lpNuX6MvpX4SrV9q9Mqr9aV8cO2gptK729HBqqYR81AjiP/s320/River+Don+3.jpg" width="240" /></a>Our class of seven students chose the safer option of simply leaning over the bridge to gaze at the dark water below.<br />
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There is a charming little village on either side of the River Don, with picture-postcard houses dating to sometime in the early 17th century (perhaps earlier, but I'm taking that information from a plaque or two that I saw on them).<br />
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The Cathedral Church of St. Machar--another ancient place well worth more exploration (note to self)--is named for St. Machar, a disciple of St. Columba (of Iona), who is said to have asked St. Machar to locate a specific place on the River Don and establish a church there, which he did in about 580 AD. The existing church, built in the early 12th century, and rebuilt in the 13th century, has survived many attempts to destroy it.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXGpN7M7LCLqbZU2KgFPiCPKMjlUo7jqY7NGkfHEBo7Wn746ZmgC4lQPpTz15M0ZRhE-gNcNFsnxQUPEn87R6gEsc8RhmxlmiCpnX2EJTf_kjLp2JnG6aBaz1clA8qtPnylxFQK0-xbO6N/s1600/20180904_154204.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXGpN7M7LCLqbZU2KgFPiCPKMjlUo7jqY7NGkfHEBo7Wn746ZmgC4lQPpTz15M0ZRhE-gNcNFsnxQUPEn87R6gEsc8RhmxlmiCpnX2EJTf_kjLp2JnG6aBaz1clA8qtPnylxFQK0-xbO6N/s400/20180904_154204.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The amazingly high ceiling with its<br />heraldic coats of arms</td></tr>
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The interior of the church is awe-inspiring and lofty. Tall, slender stained glass windows invite you to take a few moments to gaze at the ceiling, a work of art all by itself. It has 48 heraldic shields arranged in three columns--representing the monarchs of Europe, the Pope and Scottish clerics, and the King with his nobles all seeming to march towards the figure of Christ.<br />
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A Pictish stone decorated with a carved cross is displayed at the opposite end of the church from the altar. The crowded, ancient graveyard outside is full of hundreds of old tombs and gravestones. I need to come back another day to walk through the churchyard and see what history lies there.<br />
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The path from the church leads through Seaton Park, lined with ancient trees. It follows the River Don as it wends its way to the North Sea.<br />
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We weren't short on snacks during our walk--there are blackberry and raspberry bushes in great abundance wherever there is a bit of sun. We took advantage of that!<br />
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Near the church, I spotted a tiny birdhouse that seems to want to be a miniature of St. Machar's.<br />
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And back on campus, I found a couple of gems, not directly related to architecture or history, but perhaps worth sharing. Nowadays there is no fine of 2 shillings sixpence for walking on the grass or for riding a bicycle, but you might need to be wary of the Great Sabre-Toothed Haggis:<br />
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Incidentally, there are some really interesting and well-carved bits of ancient graffiti on those lovely old benches in King's College Chapel. I wonder if the lads were fined 10 shillings...</div>
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More adventures to come!</div>
<br />Mara Sheahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00480187040864569478noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1145515984664273176.post-25244486482879188142018-08-19T09:09:00.000-07:002018-08-19T09:11:32.489-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Two weeks and counting down...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">September 1 is Departure Day. I have one last contra dance gig the night before, in Durham, NC, with Julie Gorka. (She might have to keep an eye on my tempos that evening!) That Saturday will be the day where I actually have to finish packing the two suitcases and see if they close...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">My first week there will be busy getting set up in postgrad dorm, registering with a doctor, getting a bank account, finding my classes, and figuring out bus routes. I'll also be a tutor for Scottish Culture and Traditions (SCaT: their website is http://scottishculture.org/), teaching an evening course in American fiddle tunes, and I'm very much looking forward to that.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Classes begin Sept. 10! I will post updates as I find out about life in Aberdeen, and will add more pictures, too.</span>Mara Sheahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00480187040864569478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1145515984664273176.post-50764232031065092762018-07-16T16:20:00.000-07:002018-07-16T16:20:34.421-07:00First steps (posted June 12, 2018)<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Here begins a large adventure--a year of study at the Elphinstone Institute at the University of Aberdeen, immersing myself in Scottish ethnomusicology and folklore. Although I don't actually leave the States until early September, there's a long list of to-dos before I can actually get on the plane. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Later this month, I'll apply for a student visa, so I need to have all my financial and other paperwork in order. I just paid the deposit on my postgraduate student housing dorm space, so at least I'll have a place to sleep!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><b>Update (July 16): </b></i>I'm using a different application for this blog, so I'm putting this post in a second time... Thanks for reading!</span></div>
Mara Sheahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00480187040864569478noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1145515984664273176.post-53974612551264113162018-07-16T11:05:00.000-07:002018-07-16T11:05:44.482-07:00Have visa, will travel...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzKL2cWKGs2ye4v3I9yXkKxpFAjAvOGLiUaeFGiqF2iljBjyDrm50FSJ6vfIiYti8leQ4uj8Ct4eLweMG3PUhqP2iv4V2kmRHsqfJiAdDmGqZSfAjFlvw9lzox_ApmE02-uUejEXPHpYzK/s1600/Scotland+map.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1260" data-original-width="1156" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzKL2cWKGs2ye4v3I9yXkKxpFAjAvOGLiUaeFGiqF2iljBjyDrm50FSJ6vfIiYti8leQ4uj8Ct4eLweMG3PUhqP2iv4V2kmRHsqfJiAdDmGqZSfAjFlvw9lzox_ApmE02-uUejEXPHpYzK/s320/Scotland+map.png" width="293" /></a></div>
<br />Another milestone! Last week I got my passport back from the British Consulate (whew), with a lovely new student visa pasted inside it. This is feeling much more real now.<div>
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No more travel until I actually board the plane on Sept. 1. That means I can leave two suitcases opened and start thinking about what to put in them, and how to make everything fit. I just need to keep remembering that there are lots of stores in Aberdeen--no need to take everything I own! Just be sure to include the wellies, warm socks, and good raingear...</div>
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More later as the departure date grows larger on the calendar!</div>
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Mara Sheahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00480187040864569478noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1145515984664273176.post-815481757763233392018-07-16T08:06:00.000-07:002018-07-16T08:06:57.585-07:00A new start on this journal...trying out Blogger<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I'm new to this particular technology. Writing is natural for me; blogging is not. I'm still getting comfortable with the technology behind what my words look like on this screen.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2rKpwCfxhD-n0NiaHW4ygbxm_sNNmAUTaVBKGL-dtSvWyPfgAqcuBvtWDtYKsVIeUBv8vlAfNAmjvQvI1L_Mvdao_0mGisIaXWBPGYXHlYF7SQz1bt339Fyh1MsAz9VWUP0_sa15SQcne/s1600/20160705_204412.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2rKpwCfxhD-n0NiaHW4ygbxm_sNNmAUTaVBKGL-dtSvWyPfgAqcuBvtWDtYKsVIeUBv8vlAfNAmjvQvI1L_Mvdao_0mGisIaXWBPGYXHlYF7SQz1bt339Fyh1MsAz9VWUP0_sa15SQcne/s320/20160705_204412.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">This pictures approximately what I think will be happening in about 6 weeks. A flurry of activity in the meantime--selecting what to bring with me (warm clothes and good rain gear are way up there in the priorities), packing it all into two suitcases, one large and one small. Removing and repacking to make it all fit. Making lists of things. Figuring out which music books and paper I can leave behind, or better still, scanning it onto my iPad. Pondering what to do with plants that live on the porch and outside...I have a feeling my loving and supportive husband would prefer not to have to deal with their peculiar watering needs! They might just have to adapt to even more neglect than they've had.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>Mara Sheahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00480187040864569478noreply@blogger.com3