tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-55696702205161324262024-03-13T14:00:10.871+00:00Coloring Without BordersStretch your boundaries. Push your limits.Coloring Without Bordershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00217261486666011245noreply@blogger.comBlogger201125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5569670220516132426.post-73362196914059709552016-12-05T10:18:00.000+00:002016-12-05T10:18:23.345+00:00Monday Exposure: Prague's astronomical clock<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZMOjC01S4Oc/VssQCYlWZLI/AAAAAAAAHcY/1MDe9xA3Ia8/s1600/DSC_6186%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Prague astronomical clock (Orloj)" border="0" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZMOjC01S4Oc/VssQCYlWZLI/AAAAAAAAHcY/1MDe9xA3Ia8/s1600/DSC_6186%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Prague astronomical clock (Orloj)" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Prague's astronomical clock, the <i>Orloj</i>, puts on quite a show every day. The wondrous main clock, with four moving parts, was completed in 1410. Later generations have added moving figures, a "Walk of the Apostles," a crowing rooster, and a rotating calendar.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
1 golden cockerel who crows at the top of the hour<br />
<br />
1 bell in the clock tower which peals the hours<br />
<br />
3 sets of mechanisms: the astronomical clock, the calendar clock, and the moving statues<br />
<br />
3 celestial movements recorded: the Sun, the moon, and the ecliptic revolution of stars<br />
<br />
4 parts of the astronomical clock which rotate: Sun, moon, outer ring of time, and Zodiacal ring<br />
<br />
4 moving figures: Vanity (with mirror), a Jewish moneylender (with bag of gold), Death (as skeleton<br />
with hourglass and ringing a bell), and a Turk (representing hedonism) <br />
<br />
4 non-moving figures: a Chronicler, an Angel, an Astronomer, and a Philosopher<br />
<br />
12 statues of apostles who parade at the doors above the clock every hour<br />
<br />
12 signs of the Zodiac on the Zodiacal ring<br />
<br />
12 months on the calendar dial<br />
<br />
23.93 hours for a Sidereal day (i.e., time reckoned from the Earth's motion relative to the stars)<br />
<br />
24 hours on the outer ring, with the "24" indicating the time of sunset (Old Czech time)<br />
<br />
24 hours in Roman numerals (I<span class="_Tgc">–XII repeated twice) indicating modern Central European Time</span><br />
<br />
24 hours in "Babylonian" time, with twelve hours for daylight (indicated by the curved blue lines on<br />
the central dial) and twelve hours for nighttime, the length of each of the hours changing<br />
depending upon the time of year<br />
<br />
28 days of the lunar phase displayed on the clock's moon<br />
<br />
150 years the clock has been continuously repaired and regularly functioning (since 1866)<br />
<br />
365 days listed on the calendar dial, with the current day at the top<br />
<br />
606 years of age for the central astronomical clock<br />
<br />
1490 probable year the calendar was added<br />
<br />
1572 probable year of finish of repairs and perfection of mechanisms which remain largely intact and<br />
in use today<br />
<br />
1948 year the clock was reconstructed after damage in World War II<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7m7zvZdpMtI/WDcCihOCzpI/AAAAAAAAH9Y/ZnaEnry7778d9xl_FiOHq7xRPyJlLc1hQCLcB/s1600/DSC_6187%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Prague's astronomical clock face" border="0" height="426" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7m7zvZdpMtI/WDcCihOCzpI/AAAAAAAAH9Y/ZnaEnry7778d9xl_FiOHq7xRPyJlLc1hQCLcB/s1600/DSC_6187%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Prague's astronomical clock face" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Using the Roman numerals, you can see that I took this photo around 6:45 am. (I work hard for you people.) Using the curved inner sections with the Arabic numerals, you can see that this was the second hour of daylight. The four statues around the clock are, from left to right: Vanity; a Jewish moneylender; Death; and a hedonist Turk.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kHvBAp6WiOE/WDcCj7XXWPI/AAAAAAAAH9c/6DxrTtlDx9E9mW5h62-4xxeYTw7U8D_AQCLcB/s1600/DSC_6188%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Prague's astronomical clock calendar face" border="0" height="426" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kHvBAp6WiOE/WDcCj7XXWPI/AAAAAAAAH9c/6DxrTtlDx9E9mW5h62-4xxeYTw7U8D_AQCLcB/s1600/DSC_6188%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Prague's astronomical clock calendar face" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The calendar face has a rotating outer band with 365 days of the year. Meanwhile, the inner golden circle rotates for the months of the year. While the Astronomer and Philosopher stand to the right, the Chronicler and Angel had been taken away for repair and cleaning.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table><tbody>
<tr><td><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3k47eo35LiE/WDdIg2RoUAI/AAAAAAAAH90/1ILWkCKSY1o3ep7VkFEfWWzwPuQ5KrVWQCLcB/s1600/DSC_5876%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Apostles above the Prague astronomical clock" border="0" height="266" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3k47eo35LiE/WDdIg2RoUAI/AAAAAAAAH90/1ILWkCKSY1o3ep7VkFEfWWzwPuQ5KrVWQCLcB/s1600/DSC_5876%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Apostles above the Prague astronomical clock" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Two of the Apostles parade by, looking rather warlike with spear and sword.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /></td><td><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eMrlM2fW0AM/WDdIhdjg-nI/AAAAAAAAH94/K4IFbF9xB4c2nSpD_A599vX05CBon7ZFwCLcB/s1600/DSC_5879%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Death and the Turk on Prague's astronomical clock" border="0" height="400" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eMrlM2fW0AM/WDdIhdjg-nI/AAAAAAAAH94/K4IFbF9xB4c2nSpD_A599vX05CBon7ZFwCLcB/s1600/DSC_5879%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Death and the Turk on Prague's astronomical clock" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Death turns his hourglass while the Turk strums his lute.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cThctXU-dQk/WDdKDIedyCI/AAAAAAAAH-A/SkeNgSMMH1AocSeG2NWoRHCcbAmzUjWwgCLcB/s1600/DSC_7680%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Crowds gather at the Prague astronomical clock" border="0" height="426" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cThctXU-dQk/WDdKDIedyCI/AAAAAAAAH-A/SkeNgSMMH1AocSeG2NWoRHCcbAmzUjWwgCLcB/s1600/DSC_7680%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Crowds gather at the Prague astronomical clock" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Every hour the crowds gather to watch the clock's show.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sFlDokKTfmc/VssQC1TecWI/AAAAAAAAHcc/ug8P6g2Lv9s/s1600/DSC_6191%2B-%2BVersion%2B3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Prague's astronomical clock" border="0" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sFlDokKTfmc/VssQC1TecWI/AAAAAAAAHcc/ug8P6g2Lv9s/s1600/DSC_6191%2B-%2BVersion%2B3.jpg" title="Prague's astronomical clock" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Like this? You might want to check out some further Monday Exposure posts:</b></span><br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NiCxCaRb2u0/VGofyWgliWI/AAAAAAAAE8Y/kwR-bEau0Ms/s1600/DSC_0620%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Lysicrates Monument in Athens" border="0" height="200" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NiCxCaRb2u0/VGofyWgliWI/AAAAAAAAE8Y/kwR-bEau0Ms/s1600/DSC_0620%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Lysicrates Monument in Athens" width="200" /></a><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<b><a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2014/11/monday-exposure-lysicrates-monument.html">Monday Exposure: Lysicrates Monument</a></b><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QFMUf2oONVE/VHyRJCYAkDI/AAAAAAAAFHk/L-P7VS2TE54/s1600/DSC_0102%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Old Stirling Bridge in Scotland" border="0" height="119" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QFMUf2oONVE/VHyRJCYAkDI/AAAAAAAAFHk/L-P7VS2TE54/s1600/DSC_0102%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Old Stirling Bridge in Scotland" width="200" /></a><br />
<br />
<br />
<b><a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2014/12/monday-exposure-stirling-bridge.html">Monday Exposure: Stirling Bridge</a></b><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-I4_MrgEfMWI/VIhy5bHTfhI/AAAAAAAAFKA/0VgHrLivazQ/s1600/DSC_1048%2B-%2BVersion%2B3.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Michelangelo's Pietà in St. Peter's Basilica, Vatican City" border="0" height="200" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-I4_MrgEfMWI/VIhy5bHTfhI/AAAAAAAAFKA/0VgHrLivazQ/s1600/DSC_1048%2B-%2BVersion%2B3.JPG" title="Michelangelo's Pietà in St. Peter's Basilica, Vatican City" width="200" /></a><b></b><br />
<b><br /></b>
<b><br /></b>
<b><br /></b>
<b><a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2015/02/monday-exposure-michelangelos-pieta.html">Monday Exposure: Michelangelo's Pietà</a></b><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
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<br />Coloring Without Bordershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00217261486666011245noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5569670220516132426.post-45181575555430788222016-11-26T16:07:00.000+00:002016-11-26T16:07:00.516+00:00You don't know Jack (#9)Jackson is no longer a toddler, so the funny or silly observations have tapered off. But every so often we still get an unprompted nugget of weirdness.<br />
<br />
Here are some recent ones:<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kRpvSbs1DgI/WDhjW7SUfII/AAAAAAAAH-Q/xbbYMshECCQy2Ur_N_SCfqkEOR5Am9XtgCLcB/s1600/DSC_8052%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Jackson visiting North Carolina" border="0" height="426" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kRpvSbs1DgI/WDhjW7SUfII/AAAAAAAAH-Q/xbbYMshECCQy2Ur_N_SCfqkEOR5Am9XtgCLcB/s1600/DSC_8052%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Jackson visiting in North Carolina" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Almost every photo of Jackson requires at least two takes: the silly one first, and then the real one.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<br />
• "Fingal kicked me in the willy!" {<i>Pause</i>} "Mom, what's a willy?"<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
• "When I was born, I wanted lots of moms. But instead I got a dad."<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
• Kate: "Why are you sad?"<br />
Jack: "I lost all my superhero powers."<br />
Kate: "Oh."<br />
Jack: "I even lost all my pretend powers."<br />
Kate:<br />
Jack: "I can't grow up to be a superhero."<br />
Kate: <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
• "Dad, let me tell you something. I have finally reached my full potential. I am now . . . a ninja."<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
• <i>Kate arrives home</i>...<br />
Jack: "Namaste, mom!"<br />
Us: "Where'd you learn that word?"<br />
Jack: "At yogurt."<br />
Us: "Do you mean <i>yoga</i>?"<br />
Jack: "No! We were practicing yogurt!""<br />
Us: "That was <i>yoga</i>, dude."<br />
Jack: "No! You guys don't know what you're talking about! It was yogurt! It was, it was!"<br />
Us: "You're not being very <i>namaste</i> right now."<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
• "I must go with alacrity!"<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
• Jack: "Dad, let me tell you about my poop!"<br />
Me: "No thanks, bud."<br />
Jack: "The first one was really big and wide . . . and then it got skinny!"<br />
Me: "Why are you telling me this?"<br />
Jack: "The second one was just skinny!"<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-L6SSVoFYsP0/WDhjqoBVkjI/AAAAAAAAH-U/j6RIeg0K4hQBeKSG10k66whb6PA1LVUGgCLcB/s1600/DSC_6221%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Jackson with cousin Rosalie" border="0" height="426" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-L6SSVoFYsP0/WDhjqoBVkjI/AAAAAAAAH-U/j6RIeg0K4hQBeKSG10k66whb6PA1LVUGgCLcB/s1600/DSC_6221%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Jackson with cousin Rosalie" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The silly ones are contagious.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<br />
• "Sometimes, I can't even understand myself."<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
• Jack: "I changed my mind and I don't think we should get Finley a stuffie."<br />
Kate: "Why not?"<br />
Jack: "Well, he already has one."<br />
Kate: "Is there anything else you can think of for a present?"<br />
Jack: "Maybe we could just get him some food."<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
• "They spoiled all my plans. I wanted to be the bad guy." <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
• Kate: "Load up the car with the kids."<br />
Jack: "Does that include me?"<br />
Kate: "Yes."<br />
Jack (age 5): "But mom, I'm nearly a teenager!"<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
• "I'm about to show you something. But it's <i>very</i> dangerous. Please move those things out of the way."<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
• Me: "What is smeared all over the window?"<br />
Jack: "Turkey slices."<br />
Me: "Why?"<br />
Jack: "I was cleaning the window."<br />
Me: <br />
Jack: "It didn't work."<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-getkgjntHuk/Vw_wj7rszrI/AAAAAAAAHtQ/juchnBYuxCI5SdnrlTYt8JMXA7aBz8fLgCLcB/s1600/DSC_1096%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Jackson and Kate" border="0" height="428" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-getkgjntHuk/Vw_wj7rszrI/AAAAAAAAHtQ/juchnBYuxCI5SdnrlTYt8JMXA7aBz8fLgCLcB/s1600/DSC_1096%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Jackson and Kate" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eventually, even Kate succumbs to the silly takes.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />Coloring Without Bordershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00217261486666011245noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5569670220516132426.post-73299048610671072542016-10-20T21:22:00.000+01:002016-10-20T21:22:58.742+01:00A year of NOT traveling abroad<br />
Traveling abroad is a central tenet of our existence here. It's one of our <i>raisons </i><span class="st"><i>d'être</i> as expats. A core belief.</span><br />
<span class="st">A primary motivator. My most favorite thing to do!</span><br />
<br />
<span class="st">And yet for a year we stayed snug behind the U.K.'s borders, with nary a toe beyond Britain's shores.</span><br />
<span class="st"><br /></span>
<span class="st">How did we let that come to pass?!</span><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OvFWJe0tAe8/V8bZFduShlI/AAAAAAAAHzk/DvYNDdxXiEISTQAvTP_AhGFQY_vkn0rpwCLcB/s1600/DSC_0068%2B-%2BVersion%2B3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Old Man of Hoy, Orkneys, Scotland" border="0" height="384" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OvFWJe0tAe8/V8bZFduShlI/AAAAAAAAHzk/DvYNDdxXiEISTQAvTP_AhGFQY_vkn0rpwCLcB/s1600/DSC_0068%2B-%2BVersion%2B3.JPG" title="Old Man of Hoy, Orkneys, Scotland" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Granted, the British coastline can be pretty spectacular. Here, the Old Man of Hoy stands defiantly against the sea. (Orkneys, Scotland)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<h2>
<span style="font-size: large;">Sometimes, having a family really squashes your international travel bug.</span></h2>
<br />
I blame it on Kate. And Jackson. And Finley.<br />
<br />
Our last jaunt abroad consisted of 4<span class="st">½</span> days in Prague. At the time we booked it, we didn't know Prague would be our last international trip. But even had we known, we wouldn't have changed a thing. What a traveler's gem! A glorious old town, a vibrant new town, everywhere chockablock with fantastic architecture and beauty and history. We returned from Prague<span class="st">—a fantastic long-weekend city, if ever there was one</span><span class="st">—at the end of July 2015.</span><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZzWMXICemo8/V86vNAKVT5I/AAAAAAAAH0Q/YvxhgtdiBdAfWeJ8PSfoQSjzTkzYnC95gCLcB/s1600/DSC_5774%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Prague's old city center" border="0" height="426" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZzWMXICemo8/V86vNAKVT5I/AAAAAAAAH0Q/YvxhgtdiBdAfWeJ8PSfoQSjzTkzYnC95gCLcB/s1600/DSC_5774%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Prague's old city center" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of the best ways to fall in love with Prague is to view it from the many<span class="st">—as many as you can!</span><span class="st">—towers in the city.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span class="st">Earlier in July, however, we had found out Kate was pregnant with Finley. And as if pregnancy wasn't enough big news, on that same day Kate got a job offer in Bristol.</span><br />
<br />
All of a sudden: pregnancy.<br />
<br />
All of a sudden: new job.<br />
<br />
All of a sudden: a move across the country.<br />
<br />
These, folks, are gamechangers for your travel plans. Any one of them will <strike>ruin</strike> <strike>derail</strike> alter your globetrotting plans. But all of them in close succession, well, . . .<i> </i><br />
<br />
. . . <i>boom goes the dynamite</i>.<br />
<br />
Suddenly, your time is not your own anymore. Pregnant bellies have appointments and checkups, and you must curtail non-essential travel as the due date gets near. New jobs usually mean months of solid work without sneaking off for an overseas trip, especially when you have maternity leave looming. And moving across the country, well, that's a time-suck hassle of planning, packing, and unpacking which deserves its own circle of hell.<br />
<br />
To some extent, the timing of all these things wasn't deliberate. We were trying for a baby, but that was taking awhile. Kate wasn't looking for a new job, but randomly came across an advertisement for it. And even with the job offer, not everything was settled because the new employer had to secure a government license to offer a job with a work visa, and then after that the U.K. Home Office had to approve us for the (new) work visa.<br />
<br />
That left us in a holding pattern, knowing we were likely moving to Bristol but not absolutely sure of it. The process took months. <a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2015/12/and-we-have-moved-to.html">We finally moved to Bristol last November, more than four months after the job offer.</a><br />
<br />
In our time in Scotland, we had been diligent about seeing as much of the country as we could. With our exit looming, I resolved to see as much of the remaining bits as I could.<br />
<h2>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></h2>
<h2>
<span style="font-size: large;">
If you can't go abroad, explore the home turf</span></h2>
<br />
<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://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0DhV6Yn0ejc/V9KCD9FYwEI/AAAAAAAAH0g/D8_uClaZxsADzGC-bip89nLG-45icdsOwCLcB/s1600/DSC_8426%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="John O'Groats sign" border="0" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0DhV6Yn0ejc/V9KCD9FYwEI/AAAAAAAAH0g/D8_uClaZxsADzGC-bip89nLG-45icdsOwCLcB/s1600/DSC_8426%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="John O'Groats sign" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The official (but not quite accurate) northernmost tip of Britain.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Even before our trip to Prague, we had scheduled an epic journey through the distant north of Scotland. We took this trip in August 2015, just a couple of weeks after we returned from Prague.<br />
<br />
Starting in Inverness<span class="st"> (actually, we started from our home in Glasgow, but stayed the first night in Inverness) we headed up the eastern coast, drove along the entire northern coast of mainland Scotland, and then headed down the western coast through Ullapool and back toward Glasgow. That swing through the northernmost highlands was named the "North Coast 500" by a Scottish tour association in February 2015, and it's a brilliant (re)-branding of a long-existing route through the most remote stretches of Scotland. We had planned our route before the "North Coast 500" became a a hot tourist buzzword, but it was a nice confirmation of our own trip. I'll have a lot more about the North Coast 500 and the northern highlands in some upcoming posts.</span><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7pLZwbFTRQM/V9KDd1IWXoI/AAAAAAAAH0k/jS0yFfd71pINZNgfY3Edknl_cQNSDOP-gCLcB/s1600/DSC_3376%2B-%2BVersion%2B3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Assynt in northwestern Scotland" border="0" height="384" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7pLZwbFTRQM/V9KDd1IWXoI/AAAAAAAAH0k/jS0yFfd71pINZNgfY3Edknl_cQNSDOP-gCLcB/s1600/DSC_3376%2B-%2BVersion%2B3.JPG" title="Assynt in northwestern Scotland" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Driving in the Assynt in northwestern Scotland, part of the North Coast 500.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Moreoever, we expanded our North Coast 500 spin by an additional eight days to immerse ourselves in the Orkneys. That island chain, just a few miles north of mainland Scotland, is one of my favorite places in Scotland. Breathtaking, fascinating, amazing. I can't gush about it enough. Truly awe-inspiring. You can be sure that some future posts will share oodles of Orkney glory.<br />
<br />
Through the rest of August, September, October, and into November, I soaked up as much of Scotland as I could. I visited scores of sites, from little places in Glasgow to UNESCO World Heritage locations across the country. I won't bore you with a list of all the spots, but here's a small sampling of photos from places I went during those last few months:<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-KuQGKLmSE_c/V9qKm6RWXGI/AAAAAAAAH1c/MgTTVo15DJggOY3zljMWkMkMfSEaxU03gCLcB/s1600/DSC_5486%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Cathedral of the Isles on Cumbrae" border="0" height="425" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-KuQGKLmSE_c/V9qKm6RWXGI/AAAAAAAAH1c/MgTTVo15DJggOY3zljMWkMkMfSEaxU03gCLcB/s1600/DSC_5486%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Cathedral of the Isles on Cumbrae" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Cathedral of the Isles, a Victorian-era church on the island of Cumbrae.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BSgeoq7Fdco/V9qKnog1V0I/AAAAAAAAH1g/zY_KHPxXfmI0ziP4ScSizAJF8cViI_NHQCLcB/s1600/DSC_4457%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Forth Bridge over the Firth of Forth" border="0" height="384" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BSgeoq7Fdco/V9qKnog1V0I/AAAAAAAAH1g/zY_KHPxXfmI0ziP4ScSizAJF8cViI_NHQCLcB/s1600/DSC_4457%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Forth Bridge over the Firth of Forth" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Scotland's newest UNESCO World Heritage site, the Forth Bridge, spans the Firth of Forth north of Edinburgh.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-r9sX4DUDr44/V9qPFsUY82I/AAAAAAAAH1s/7btqpyIdM4YVplew116gXj_ZXhzZ1MAsQCLcB/s1600/DSC_4599%2B-%2BVersion%2B3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Dunnottar Castle in Scotland" border="0" height="384" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-r9sX4DUDr44/V9qPFsUY82I/AAAAAAAAH1s/7btqpyIdM4YVplew116gXj_ZXhzZ1MAsQCLcB/s1600/DSC_4599%2B-%2BVersion%2B3.JPG" title="Dunnottar Castle in Scotland" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dunnottar Castle has a magnificent setting on the North Sea, but its ruins are mediocre. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sUrMdXLEPnA/V9rjuCfw7LI/AAAAAAAAH2Q/fwpxUmxeLvcoJ-oeuvU87qfcmERBMd-YgCLcB/s1600/DSC_3536%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Royal Edinburgh Military Tattoo 2016" border="0" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sUrMdXLEPnA/V9rjuCfw7LI/AAAAAAAAH2Q/fwpxUmxeLvcoJ-oeuvU87qfcmERBMd-YgCLcB/s1600/DSC_3536%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Royal Edinburgh Military Tattoo 2016" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'm a huge fan of the <a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2014/08/the-royal-edinburgh-military-tattoo.html">Royal Edinburgh Military Tattoo, one of premier annual events on Scotland's cultural calendar</a>. (2015 Tattoo)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-I7LCcQhl4uk/V9qPFUfd69I/AAAAAAAAH1o/FRqT0tOg-MEVy5B_Abp3a_DjnCI78VtXQCLcB/s1600/DSC_6864%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Abbotsford House in the Scottish Borders" border="0" height="426" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-I7LCcQhl4uk/V9qPFUfd69I/AAAAAAAAH1o/FRqT0tOg-MEVy5B_Abp3a_DjnCI78VtXQCLcB/s1600/DSC_6864%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Abbotsford House in the Scottish Borders" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Abbotsford House, the former home of Sir Walter Scott, nestles in the rolling hills of the Scottish Borders.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/--BL-L0i1bmI/V9rmY-L1eYI/AAAAAAAAH2Y/x-jvxj2UZM4l5xw97aD7C8idMUXJ6NZeACLcB/s1600/DSC_6651%2B-%2BVersion%2B3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Inchcolm in the Firth of Forth" border="0" height="456" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/--BL-L0i1bmI/V9rmY-L1eYI/AAAAAAAAH2Y/x-jvxj2UZM4l5xw97aD7C8idMUXJ6NZeACLcB/s1600/DSC_6651%2B-%2BVersion%2B3.JPG" title="Inchcolm in the Firth of Forth" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kate and Jackson take a selfie on historic Inchcolm island.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-32QbFFXCZas/V9ro9-w8haI/AAAAAAAAH2c/rEz1NOFBZ8kJ2x3_sffJNFoaeghUdhK5QCLcB/s1600/DSC_7393%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Two of the Three Sisters in Glenco" border="0" height="384" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-32QbFFXCZas/V9ro9-w8haI/AAAAAAAAH2c/rEz1NOFBZ8kJ2x3_sffJNFoaeghUdhK5QCLcB/s1600/DSC_7393%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Two of the Three Sisters in Glencoe" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Two of the "Three Sisters" of Glencoe.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Through all these explorations, I took in a <a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2015/12/autumn-colors-in-scotland.html">glorious Scottish autumn, with all its vibrant colors</a>. Fall lasts longer in Scotland than I expect it to, well into November. The picturesque Border Abbeys might be at their prettiest during autumn:<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="Melrose Abbey with fall colors" border="0" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-S4RAOsw3H58/Vnmq9I8xXFI/AAAAAAAAHR8/gAKL6988vF0/s1600/DSC_7223%2B-%2BVersion%2B3.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="Melrose Abbey with fall colors" width="640" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2015/12/autumn-colors-in-scotland.html">Melrose Abbey at the end of October.</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Despite all these last-minute trips around Scotland, we also had to throw in a long weekend trip to Bristol to find a place to live.<br />
<h2>
<b><br /></b></h2>
<h2>
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>The school calendar is mightier than your travel plans</b></span></h2>
<br />
Once we moved to England, we had to get Jackson started in school. Whereas in Scotland kids start at age five, <a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2016/01/in-england-school-starts-at-age-4.html">in England they generally start at age four</a>. <br />
<br />
And when your kid is in school, your travel plans will never be as easy again.<br />
<br />
Moving, starting a new job, and getting pregnant are all sticks of dynamite that can blow up your travel freedom. But they pale in the face of the dynamite colossus: school calendars.<br />
<br />
We no longer get to pick when we travel. We have no choices now. We can only go abroad when the school is on break:<br />
<br />
<span class="st">• </span>a week in February<br />
<span class="st">• two weeks in April</span><br />
<span class="st"> </span><span class="st">• a week in June</span><br />
<span class="st"> </span><span class="st">• six weeks in July/August</span><br />
<span class="st"> </span><span class="st"><span class="st">• a week in October</span></span><br />
<span class="st"><span class="st"> </span></span><span class="st"><span class="st"><span class="st">• two weeks in December</span> </span> </span><span class="st"></span><br />
<br />
<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://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pWS_MobnNJQ/V9u99Dhw-zI/AAAAAAAAH2s/A6OId8iMmugXmPzxK0LjHRw5S6t74sMFwCLcB/s1600/DSC_8175%2B-%2BVersion%2B4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="An apple for teacher" border="0" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pWS_MobnNJQ/V9u99Dhw-zI/AAAAAAAAH2s/A6OId8iMmugXmPzxK0LjHRw5S6t74sMFwCLcB/s1600/DSC_8175%2B-%2BVersion%2B4.jpg" title="An apple for teacher" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jackson on the first day of school this September.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Everyone with school-age kids in England has roughly this schedule. We're all tethered to it. Unlike in the States, where you can take your kid out of school when you like without much consequence, <a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2016/01/in-england-school-starts-at-age-4.html">here in England the schools have the right to fine you for every day of absence and even pursue a criminal conviction</a>. No joke. There are examples of schools seeking criminal convictions for parents who took their kids out of school for just a few days to go to grandparents' funerals. These aren't idle threats by school officials; they've gone to trial.<br />
<br />
Basically, if you don't have permission from your school's headteacher you're looking at a daily fine for an absence. And if those fines don't work, you better be prepared to hire a defense attorney.<br />
<br />
School calendar > fun family trip to a foreign country<br />
<br />
<br />
<h2>
<b><br /></b></h2>
<h2>
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Getting a new baby's passport and visa will take months, so no jet-setting</b></span></h2>
<br />
When we knew Kate was pregnant, but before we knew Jackson would need to be enrolled in school in England, we started envisioning the travel we could do while Kate was on maternity leave. Months of time stretched tantalizingly out before us. A grand tour of Europe! Find a spot for a couple of weeks, explore all around with day trips, then move on the next spot. We could hit a half dozen or more countries over the course of several months. Let's go!<br />
<br />
<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://3.bp.blogspot.com/-377VffyJt0w/V-EU6_iMFRI/AAAAAAAAH3A/N75s9ZB87jcmhk-ICwXP-7vjDAZrysPJACLcB/s1600/DSC_7471%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Napping in the Somerset bluebells" border="0" height="267" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-377VffyJt0w/V-EU6_iMFRI/AAAAAAAAH3A/N75s9ZB87jcmhk-ICwXP-7vjDAZrysPJACLcB/s1600/DSC_7471%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Napping in the Somerset bluebells" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They'll sleep anywhere, including a hike among the Somerset bluebells.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Granted, we'd need to wait at least a few weeks after birth to make sure the new bambino was healthy and able to go. After our early experience with Jackson, <a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2016/02/meconium-aspiration-is-crappy-start-to.html">we knew that was not always a given</a>. But assuming all went well, the <span class="st"><i>bebé</i> would be just an extra passenger on tour.</span><br />
<span class="st"><br /></span>
<span class="st">After all, infants might be the easiest travelers. Mostly, they eat and sleep. And sleep. And sleep. Put 'em in a stroller and you're free to roam. Infants are much easier than toddlers, for example, who want to be up and around and have their own little opinions.</span><br />
<br />
<span class="st">But then reality hit. Jackson would be in school, and the mighty school calendar would rear its ugly grid.</span><br />
<span class="st"><br /></span>
<span class="st">Couldn't we at least travel abroad during those school breaks?</span><br />
<span class="st"><br /></span>
<span class="st">Nope.</span><br />
<span class="st"><br /></span>
<span class="st">The new lil' scribbler couldn't cross any border without a passport. Even with a passport, however, Finley couldn't go abroad <i>and return</i> to the U.K. unless he had his British visa secured. Without a visa, he can't live in the country. We could take him out of the U.K., but not bring him back in without his visa. Fair enough.</span><br />
<span class="st"><br /></span><a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2016/03/the-lil-scribbler-arrives.html">So after Finley was born</a><span class="st">, we set to work. First, we needed to secure his birth certificate. An office at the hospital provided that. Next, we had to get all our documents together and fill out forms for the U.S. passport. Then we had to schedule an appointment with the U.S. embassy in London (at the beginning of April) to show that the lil' scribbler was real and that he had all the right paperwork completed. Incidentally, the embassy and its staff were terrific</span><span class="st">—efficient, thorough, pleasant. After a few weeks wait, the embassy returned our documents and sent a brand new passport for Finley.</span><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jYd_2ebRJQ0/V-OwRkEH2FI/AAAAAAAAH3Q/TgiXW-ucjp0X7j7HFZIEW9LpKF50Cr3FwCLcB/s1600/DSC_0663%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="U.S. Embassy in London" border="0" height="384" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jYd_2ebRJQ0/V-OwRkEH2FI/AAAAAAAAH3Q/TgiXW-ucjp0X7j7HFZIEW9LpKF50Cr3FwCLcB/s1600/DSC_0663%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="U.S. Embassy in London" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The current U.S. embassy in London is on Grosvenor Square. At the end of 2016 or beginning of 2017, however, the U.S. will have a fancy new $1 billion embassy on the south bank of the Thames. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span class="st">At that point, we could apply for his U.K. dependent visa. Again with the forms, which we mailed to the Home Office along with his new passport, birth certificate, and other documents. And here's where we ran into some minor snafus. Once the U.K. immigration officials have your application, you get sent a form in the mail to take to the Post Office, which then photographs the kid and sends it to the Home Office. Unfortunately, our first form was defective, and the Post Office couldn't use it. Then, after waiting for a second form, we had Finley's photo taken, only to be told later that somehow the Home Office found the photo not quite right. So we waited for a third form and then had the photo taken yet again. Finally, success.</span><br />
<br />
As spring ran on, we had clung to the hope we might get the passport and visa completed in time to go abroad during the June break from school. That was some wishful thinking.<br />
<br />
We had started the process less than a week after Finley's birth in early March. By the end of June, we still hadn't gotten Finley's visa<span class="st">. Technically, he was to get a biometric residence permit like the rest of us. It's a small plastic card, and there's no longer a visa pasted into your passport.</span><br />
<span class="st"><br /></span>
<span class="st">With the start of July, we were getting antsy. We had scheduled a trip back the States at the end of July during the summer break. We were confident he'd get the the permit</span><span class="st">—honestly, how could he not?</span><span class="st">—but the delay from the Home Office was beginning to threaten those plans. We made a call, and the staff asked us to write a letter saying why we needed them to hurry up. So off went our letter, and shortly thereafter came the residence permit and all the documents.</span><br />
<br />
<span class="st"><i>Whew!</i> </span><br />
<br />
<span class="st">Finally, we could travel abroad!</span><br />
<br />
But what did we do in the interim as we were waiting and waiting and waiting?<br />
<br />
<h2>
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>If you can't fly away, drive and explore locally</b></span></h2>
<br />
While we were waiting, we tried to make the most of our free time here in southwestern England. I gave a <a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2016/04/last-week-cotswolds-this-week.html">little teaser several months ago about our weeklong trip to the Cotswolds</a>. For visitors to England, it's likely their image of the English countryside comes from the Cotswolds. Indeed, so many television shows and movies are set within the area that location scouts are running out of new places to discover. Some villages have appeared in literally <strike>dozens</strike> scores of films and shows. Although views of lush rolling green hills, dotted by sheep and bounded by stone fences, can be found all over England, the Cotswolds provide the paragon example. Quite simply, the Cotwolds are English countryside and village life <i>par excellence</i>.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-P4fjBUad_48/V_zbZuQjjnI/AAAAAAAAH3s/wNfPrEnPA0MvJ657nzBkGAVi-aX03vwMgCLcB/s1600/DSC_3729%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Upper Slaughter, Cotswolds" border="0" height="428" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-P4fjBUad_48/V_zbZuQjjnI/AAAAAAAAH3s/wNfPrEnPA0MvJ657nzBkGAVi-aX03vwMgCLcB/s1600/DSC_3729%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Upper Slaughter, Cotswolds" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The lovely village of Upper Slaughter. Entry on this side of the village goes across a small ford.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-oAiJHrIm25o/V_zamIrDhgI/AAAAAAAAH3g/1bDmvzFug9EPMZUcSXxUP8CBRvRL7IfAACLcB/s1600/DSC_3576%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Cotswold lion and lambs" border="0" height="428" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-oAiJHrIm25o/V_zamIrDhgI/AAAAAAAAH3g/1bDmvzFug9EPMZUcSXxUP8CBRvRL7IfAACLcB/s1600/DSC_3576%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Cotswold lion and lambs" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The famed "Cotswold lion"<span class="st">—the once-dominant breed of sheep in the area, perhaps introduced by the Romans</span><span class="st">—</span>and her lambs. Although it's now a rare breed, in medieval times the Cotswold lions covered the hills of the area and provided England with its dominant source of income for trading in Europe.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CUwwE8FftWM/V_zax2ny8HI/AAAAAAAAH3k/DBF8oKIcQugip9ipcgFMl47pHhQlBsxZQCLcB/s1600/DSC_0792%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Beginning and finish of the Cotswold Way in Chipping Campden" border="0" height="426" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CUwwE8FftWM/V_zax2ny8HI/AAAAAAAAH3k/DBF8oKIcQugip9ipcgFMl47pHhQlBsxZQCLcB/s1600/DSC_0792%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Start and end of Cotswold Way in Chipping Campden" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">As the sign notes, "the beginning and the end" of the Cotswold Way hiking trail lies in Chipping Campden.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
We also spent nine days in England's amazing southwestern corner, Cornwall. If the Cotwolds are archetypal English countryside, then Cornwall provides quintessential coastline and fishing villages. This is another exceedingly popular area for films and television shows. While it's a prime vacation spot for Brits, Cornwall is somewhat off the radar<span class="st">—mostly due to its remoteness from the rest of Britain</span><span class="st"><span class="st">—</span></span>for foreign visitors.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rL2WwHAKHOQ/V_zmvS6IuOI/AAAAAAAAH4c/nzdtZncq9zA0IXHBnKfT4KhBLVp4yiJGQCLcB/s1600/DSC_9265%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Polperro, Cornwall" border="0" height="428" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rL2WwHAKHOQ/V_zmvS6IuOI/AAAAAAAAH4c/nzdtZncq9zA0IXHBnKfT4KhBLVp4yiJGQCLcB/s16000/DSC_9265%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Polperro, Cornwall" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The fishing village of Polperro in Cornwall was once one of the most notorious smuggling hubs in England.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-s6Py5uCafmU/V_zmu6mmgKI/AAAAAAAAH4Y/GugP8WoRPaURXH-Z8P4Gw_Dpjd2s52rZACLcB/s1600/DSC_7820%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Rainforest biome in the Eden Project, Cornwall" border="0" height="426" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-s6Py5uCafmU/V_zmu6mmgKI/AAAAAAAAH4Y/GugP8WoRPaURXH-Z8P4Gw_Dpjd2s52rZACLcB/s1600/DSC_7820%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Rainforest biome in the Eden Project, Cornwall" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The world's largest indoor rainforest can be found at the magnificent Eden Project, near Cornwall's border with Devon.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BjYFxuQdXfI/V_zmtzMrIKI/AAAAAAAAH4U/PmZxMWnpqCQmhuFENNjoP8nnIh605KuPgCLcB/s1600/DSC_0677%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Stopping to rest on Cornwall's section of the South West Coast Path" border="0" height="426" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BjYFxuQdXfI/V_zmtzMrIKI/AAAAAAAAH4U/PmZxMWnpqCQmhuFENNjoP8nnIh605KuPgCLcB/s1600/DSC_0677%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Stopping to rest on Cornwall's section of the South West Coast Path" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jackson taking a breather on the South West Coast Path, which runs 630 miles from the coast of Somerset, across the north of Devon, around the entire coast of Cornwall, across the south of Devon, and ending in Dorset.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DaNGVbDwp0w/V_zplQhJXWI/AAAAAAAAH4o/iP2cwmrbiXw3hUyzl3gIO-rhKmETc987QCLcB/s1600/DSC_9842%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Mên-an-Tol, a Neolithic stone site in Cornwall" border="0" height="428" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DaNGVbDwp0w/V_zplQhJXWI/AAAAAAAAH4o/iP2cwmrbiXw3hUyzl3gIO-rhKmETc987QCLcB/s1600/DSC_9842%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Mên-an-Tol, a Neolithic stone site in Cornwall" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At a Neolithic stone site, <span class="st"><i>Mên</i>-<i>an-Tol</i>, legend holds that passing through the stone can prevent or cure a variety of diseases. We all wiggled through because, well, why not?</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BkAAoAdqI8I/V_zpl_tYayI/AAAAAAAAH4s/bvVG9MJinrESU4Izxz9vNnl0_KGtCsyQQCLcB/s1600/DSC_0437%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Minack Theatre in Porthcurno, Cornwall" border="0" height="426" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BkAAoAdqI8I/V_zpl_tYayI/AAAAAAAAH4s/bvVG9MJinrESU4Izxz9vNnl0_KGtCsyQQCLcB/s1600/DSC_0437%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Minack Theatre in Porthcurno, Cornwall" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of the world's great outdoor theaters, the Minack Theatre in Porthcurno, was built largely by one woman, Rowena Cade, and a couple of assistants over the course of several decades.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jyI03awFB1s/VQBF4zObJwI/AAAAAAAAFq4/au53nkERp4Q/s1600/DSC_0142_2%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Viewing the Roman baths from the Victorian-era balcony" border="0" height="191" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jyI03awFB1s/VQBF4zObJwI/AAAAAAAAFq4/au53nkERp4Q/s1600/DSC_0142_2%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Viewing the Roman baths from the Victorian-era balcony" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kate and Jackson peer down into the Roman baths.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Nearer home, we've been reconnoitering Bristol and Somerset.<br />
<br />
It's a region we visited long before we ever knew we'd be moving to Bristol. A few years ago when we were still living in Scotland, we <a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2013/10/bath-river-and-parade-gardens.html">spent several nights</a> <a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2013/10/bath-modern-era.html">in Bath</a>, a <a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2013/09/bath-aquae-sulis.html">UNESCO World Heritage city renowned for its Roman baths</a>, as well as its <a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2013/09/bath-abbey.html">"Lantern of the West" abbey</a> and <a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2013/10/bath-circus-and-crescent.html">magnificent Georgian architecture like the Crescent and the Circus</a>.<br />
<br />
<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="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2013/10/wells-bishops-palace-vicars-close-and.html" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="A bridge within the Bishop's Palace." border="0" height="184" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/--u40Rysq3A8/VV-Ihx7HskI/AAAAAAAAGv8/xRoktL-iIZs/s1600/DSC_0321.JPG" title="Willow tree branches with bridge in Bishop's Palace, Wells, England" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A bridge within the Bishop's Palace gardens.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
During that trip we also headed to Glastonbury, not for the overhyped middle-aged hipster music <strike>mudfest</strike> festival, but <a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2015/02/searching-for-grail-in-glastonbury.html">for its ruins, its towering Tor, and of course for the grave of King Arthur and the hiding place of the Holy Grail</a>. Even more spectacular was visiting <a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2013/10/wells-cathedral.html">Wells, with its magnificent cathedral</a>, as well as the <a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2013/10/wells-bishops-palace-vicars-close-and.html">gardens of the Bishop's Palace and the idyllic Vicar's Close</a>.<br />
<br />
We've revisited Wells and Bath since our move to Bristol. But there's so much more to Somerset. It truly has a wealth of offerings beyond Bath, Wells, and Glastonbury, from natural wonders to man-made marvels. What's most exciting is that we're only at the beginning of discovering them; so far we've just scratched the surface. Here are a few of our favorites from earlier this year.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-v6LF1HQXA_A/WAXo2i5H7bI/AAAAAAAAH5A/GlwYXzAXGv04B5p01z45iQaLMN7ouEf4QCLcB/s1600/DSC_6534%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Tyntesfield House in North Somerset" border="0" height="428" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-v6LF1HQXA_A/WAXo2i5H7bI/AAAAAAAAH5A/GlwYXzAXGv04B5p01z45iQaLMN7ouEf4QCLcB/s1600/DSC_6534%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Tyntesfield House in North Somerset" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Part of the Gothic Revival movement in the mid-1800s, Tyntesfield House in North Somerset is a relatively new addition to the National Trust.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZV3YBhSqDS0/WAcwyFiZ81I/AAAAAAAAH5o/CslxMsBenZUUUg8Hq6Dv_hjfZziKMo8CwCLcB/s1600/DSC_6196%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Scrumpy cider in Somerset" border="0" height="426" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZV3YBhSqDS0/WAcwyFiZ81I/AAAAAAAAH5o/CslxMsBenZUUUg8Hq6Dv_hjfZziKMo8CwCLcB/s1600/DSC_6196%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Scrumpy cider in Somerset" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">If you like very hard cider, then "scrumpy" cider from Somerset is for you. "Scrumpy" is sort of a moonshine version of cider; here it's made by a farmer in his barn.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tAHxfJYcdgc/WAc17JoJl5I/AAAAAAAAH58/4fIxrfd0ZEUu_992C1Lx0Q7CPo2OxC9ugCLcB/s1600/DSC_4444%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt=""Well Hung Lover" by Banksy" border="0" height="426" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tAHxfJYcdgc/WAc17JoJl5I/AAAAAAAAH58/4fIxrfd0ZEUu_992C1Lx0Q7CPo2OxC9ugCLcB/s1600/DSC_4444%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title=""Well Hung Lover" by Banksy" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The "Well Hung Lover" in Bristol by the famous street artist, Banksy, who grew up in the city. (The artwork was later vandalized by the blue paint splotches.)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wxL9reiUh_w/WAc16vrXSgI/AAAAAAAAH54/l49SpRr6pAQlkxnNmtFS3QHNoZQlcoSpACLcB/s1600/DSC_3933%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Stanton Drew stone circle" border="0" height="384" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wxL9reiUh_w/WAc16vrXSgI/AAAAAAAAH54/l49SpRr6pAQlkxnNmtFS3QHNoZQlcoSpACLcB/s1600/DSC_3933%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Stanton Drew stone circle" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Although it's England's third-largest complex of standing stones, as well as one of the largest stone circles, the Stanton Drew prehistoric site is virtually unknown outside of Somerset.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-W3j1Tgr3lBY/WAc46eaXgcI/AAAAAAAAH6I/gzaQ-iCVI5of0LuWFgVz6As0SRbphv8jgCLcB/s1600/DSC_2788%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="A deer at Longleat Safari Park" border="0" height="426" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-W3j1Tgr3lBY/WAc46eaXgcI/AAAAAAAAH6I/gzaQ-iCVI5of0LuWFgVz6As0SRbphv8jgCLcB/s1600/DSC_2788%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="A deer at Longleat Safari Park" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At the Longleat Safari Park in Somerset<span class="st">—the world's </span>first safari park outside of Africa<span class="st">—</span>the deer come up to, and into, the car for pellet food.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-p5iF__IO_QE/WAcwxUNC44I/AAAAAAAAH5k/Q5wdW3OzuEgTIXctaoPHH4g9L-CNU7qRACLcB/s1600/DSC_6160%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Nana at Cherhill White Horse in Wiltshire" border="0" height="428" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-p5iF__IO_QE/WAcwxUNC44I/AAAAAAAAH5k/Q5wdW3OzuEgTIXctaoPHH4g9L-CNU7qRACLcB/s1600/DSC_6160%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Nana at Cherhill White Horse in Wiltshire" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just over the border from Somerset in Wiltshire lies the Cherhill White Horse, which we visited with Nana (above), Grampa Bill, and Grammar. Although the original and highly-stylized Uffington White Horse was carved in the Bronze Age in Oxfordshire, a bunch of other white horses were carved in imitation in the 18th and 19th centuries. This one was carved in 1780.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MPXbWnFIDOw/WAXo2VkVOMI/AAAAAAAAH48/IBNCjnMXJ0cUPejxQPsG0iiKFrH3pJbKgCLcB/s1600/DSC_6324%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Clevedon Pier" border="0" height="428" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MPXbWnFIDOw/WAXo2VkVOMI/AAAAAAAAH48/IBNCjnMXJ0cUPejxQPsG0iiKFrH3pJbKgCLcB/s1600/DSC_6324%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Clevedon Pier" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The historically-protected Clevedon Pier stretches out into the Bristol Channel. Originally the rail lines ended in Clevedon. Passengers would then stroll out the pier and board a boat to chug across the channel to Wales.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JDmNdZzuadc/WAc5_hnrkvI/AAAAAAAAH6Q/tIu2xGTBpUYues6ozsRDinArjwBDTtIuACLcB/s1600/DSC_3150%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Cheddar Gorge in Somerset" border="0" height="428" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JDmNdZzuadc/WAc5_hnrkvI/AAAAAAAAH6Q/tIu2xGTBpUYues6ozsRDinArjwBDTtIuACLcB/s1600/DSC_3150%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Cheddar Gorge in Somerset" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One summer day Kate and I (and Finley) hiked the entire clifftop perimeter of Cheddar Gorge in Somerset, which is Britain's largest gorge. It rises to a height of roughly 450 feet.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<h2>
<b><br /></b></h2>
<h2>
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>If you visit your home country, does that count as traveling abroad?</b></span></h2>
<br />
No.<br />
<br />
<i>Heck no!</i><br />
<br />
I mean, technically, I suppose we did travel out of one country. Crossed an ocean. Entered another country and stayed there for three and a half weeks. If you're being fussy about the meaning of "abroad."<br />
<br />
But c'mon, visiting your own home country isn't <i>really</i> traveling <i>abroad</i>. <br />
<br />
<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://1.bp.blogspot.com/-r_rpIm6V9po/WAkak5-JkpI/AAAAAAAAH84/CAwyjHy_XNsdt69R-XCDUr8gsH29ibAFQCLcB/s1600/IMG_0386%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="A quick visit at the airport" border="0" height="240" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-r_rpIm6V9po/WAkak5-JkpI/AAAAAAAAH84/CAwyjHy_XNsdt69R-XCDUr8gsH29ibAFQCLcB/s1600/IMG_0386%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" title="A quick visit at the airport" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our quick visit with our besties Erin and Mickey at the airport.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Heading back to the States for a long trip home was our last gasp use of Kate's maternity leave. When else would we have several weeks free to visit family and friends? Jeez, as I look at the calendar ahead, we might not have another stretch of time like that for years. Not that we won't return for visits, but we almost certainly won't have a chunk of time that big.<br />
<br />
We headed first to Colorado, where Grammar and one of Kate's sisters (and her family) live. But since our connection swung through Dallas, between our flights we actually were able to squeeze in a very quick visit with old friends who now live there. Bonus!<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-k86Y8ygOKjc/WAiHD_UO_RI/AAAAAAAAH6w/LEWUYGxq_joZrDz72ydjhd-xEZuRJdlWgCLcB/s1600/DSC_5709%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Hike in Colorado National Monument" border="0" height="428" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-k86Y8ygOKjc/WAiHD_UO_RI/AAAAAAAAH6w/LEWUYGxq_joZrDz72ydjhd-xEZuRJdlWgCLcB/s1600/DSC_5709%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Hike in Colorado National Monument" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I took a six-hour solo hike through a mountain desert to visit the Colorado National Monument.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Vfc1qem2Mz4/WAiIxGyR-DI/AAAAAAAAH7E/XlrOIM4UpR8psIGbXynLVmdXDbcc0uYXwCLcB/s1600/DSC_6103%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Family at an evening fair" border="0" height="428" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Vfc1qem2Mz4/WAiIxGyR-DI/AAAAAAAAH7E/XlrOIM4UpR8psIGbXynLVmdXDbcc0uYXwCLcB/s1600/DSC_6103%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Family at an evening fair" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kate's sister Tracy and her husband John, with kids Macie and Garrick, at an evening fair in Grand Junction, Colorado.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table><tbody>
<tr><td><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pN8tRuphDXA/WAiIwGBSK1I/AAAAAAAAH7A/9UwduY3s-2UzZcnDcGwiu7R2__m4ooY9QCLcB/s1600/DSC_4950%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Horse visits with Finley" border="0" height="214" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pN8tRuphDXA/WAiIwGBSK1I/AAAAAAAAH7A/9UwduY3s-2UzZcnDcGwiu7R2__m4ooY9QCLcB/s1600/DSC_4950%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Horse visits with Finley" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kate's family in Colorado has a bunch of horses on their 40+ acres.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</td><td><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DlFT1JzphWY/WAiHTNOA7gI/AAAAAAAAH68/dU85n0g2ymAKC5BelhILVbiWzUISbOcMQCEw/s1600/DSC_4985%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Together on a horse" border="0" height="214" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DlFT1JzphWY/WAiHTNOA7gI/AAAAAAAAH68/dU85n0g2ymAKC5BelhILVbiWzUISbOcMQCEw/s1600/DSC_4985%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Together on a horse" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jackson got his first ride on a horse, with help from his cousin.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
We spent a week in Colorado, then drove north to Idaho to visit Kate's other sister (and her family). They live at the base of the Tetons. Our drive helped remind us of the size disparity between the U.S.A. and the U.K. The drive took us nearly 10 hours, which would be long enough to drive the entire length of Britain. Sometimes you forget about how massive the States are.<br />
<br />
Much of our time in Idaho was spent outdoors doing things like taking small hikes, going canoeing, flying kites, and looking at gorgeous vistas of the Tetons.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XhL--Brzj70/WAjFK7UnwwI/AAAAAAAAH7o/BFpQpjf76-Mun2cfodMvqZmXe8KjJXHFQCLcB/s1600/DSC_7230%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="A view of the Grand Teton" border="0" height="384" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XhL--Brzj70/WAjFK7UnwwI/AAAAAAAAH7o/BFpQpjf76-Mun2cfodMvqZmXe8KjJXHFQCLcB/s1600/DSC_7230%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="A view of the Grand Teton" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My brother-in-law David poses and takes in the view, with the Grand Teton jutting up in the background.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-FZ6ddgQdQ28/WAjFKkYdFvI/AAAAAAAAH7k/kFCOgHGVlbs_IaoUvbssdBlnXm0emsnnQCLcB/s1600/DSC_7177%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Rachel with Finley" border="0" height="426" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-FZ6ddgQdQ28/WAjFKkYdFvI/AAAAAAAAH7k/kFCOgHGVlbs_IaoUvbssdBlnXm0emsnnQCLcB/s1600/DSC_7177%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Rachel with Finley" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kate's sister, Rachel, gives a squeeze to her nephew, Finley.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-i8lUNxtE1bA/WAjFU_J2stI/AAAAAAAAH7w/td0IV7dw8r4Crh5Il_l4SFn3R4vwWe7vwCLcB/s1600/DSC_6760%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Canoeing in Targhee National Forest" border="0" height="382" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-i8lUNxtE1bA/WAjFU_J2stI/AAAAAAAAH7w/td0IV7dw8r4Crh5Il_l4SFn3R4vwWe7vwCLcB/s1600/DSC_6760%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Canoeing in Targhee National Forest" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">David, Rosalie, and Grammar canoeing in Targhee National Forest.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4IQeLAXZn7g/WAjFUYPd_dI/AAAAAAAAH7s/PJW4uJi9a2AcnOoHlVIwRXeazAfFuW_TgCLcB/s1600/DSC_6575%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="My niece" border="0" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4IQeLAXZn7g/WAjFUYPd_dI/AAAAAAAAH7s/PJW4uJi9a2AcnOoHlVIwRXeazAfFuW_TgCLcB/s1600/DSC_6575%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="My niece" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My niece, Rosalie.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<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://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8eH1yOpnDJ4/WAkbkQ02qGI/AAAAAAAAH9A/ilHQsLR_hjo8k7i_3KDQkBgdKBRJOyogQCLcB/s1600/IMG_0387%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="A family selfie at the Durham Bulls game" border="0" height="300" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8eH1yOpnDJ4/WAkbkQ02qGI/AAAAAAAAH9A/ilHQsLR_hjo8k7i_3KDQkBgdKBRJOyogQCLcB/s1600/IMG_0387%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" title="A family selfie at the Durham Bulls game" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kate snapped this family selfie at the Durham Bulls game. She is a master of the group selfie.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
After a week in Idaho, we flew to North Carolina to visit my family and some of our old friends and colleagues. Before we moved to Scotland, we had lived in North Carolina for 11 of the previous 12 years (one year away for me to do a judicial clerkship in Florida). It's what we still call "home," though we've been in the U.K. now for nearly three and a half years.<br />
<br />
Since "home" is so familiar to me, I failed to take nearly any pictures during our nine days, which I regret. Not a single a snap of an old coworker and hardly any of friends. But here are a few shots:<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PCHHjcjdBL8/WAkPi1fS2oI/AAAAAAAAH8E/ewIkjO8AScYlHqzuqwEEoY9rDIQVwoR-wCLcB/s1600/DSC_7979%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Grampa Bill and Finley" border="0" height="428" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PCHHjcjdBL8/WAkPi1fS2oI/AAAAAAAAH8E/ewIkjO8AScYlHqzuqwEEoY9rDIQVwoR-wCLcB/s1600/DSC_7979%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Grampa Bill and Finley" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Finley having some cuddle time with Grampa Bill.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pxXUNNj7tWM/WAkPikPX2qI/AAAAAAAAH8A/XtLMTWf7rWcZuhBp-CtqXJBGq1jGC69jQCLcB/s1600/DSC_7801%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Kate and Kristen" border="0" height="426" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pxXUNNj7tWM/WAkPikPX2qI/AAAAAAAAH8A/XtLMTWf7rWcZuhBp-CtqXJBGq1jGC69jQCLcB/s1600/DSC_7801%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Kate and Kristen" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kate (and Finley) with her bestie Kristen (and Bella).</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-KLedCzCKFa0/WAkPwFU-hGI/AAAAAAAAH8M/nquz78R3mcMlixZVjh3NE_96BD64Q41DwCLcB/s1600/DSC_7931%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Stephen and kids" border="0" height="426" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-KLedCzCKFa0/WAkPwFU-hGI/AAAAAAAAH8M/nquz78R3mcMlixZVjh3NE_96BD64Q41DwCLcB/s1600/DSC_7931%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Stephen and kids" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our other bestie Stephen (husband of Kristen) with Nicholas and Bella, as Jackson looks on.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dwnvacAc9ik/WAkPwJKt94I/AAAAAAAAH8I/x8kiQJTnLvEb-Nt-txKaRzx6DNarC1JWwCLcB/s1600/DSC_8061%2B-%2BVersion%2B3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Grandparents and grandkids" border="0" height="426" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dwnvacAc9ik/WAkPwJKt94I/AAAAAAAAH8I/x8kiQJTnLvEb-Nt-txKaRzx6DNarC1JWwCLcB/s1600/DSC_8061%2B-%2BVersion%2B3.JPG" title="Grandparents and grandkids" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jackson and Finley cooperating just long enough for a photo with Nana and Grampa Bill.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Going back home for a few weeks isn't what we mean when we say "traveling abroad." For an expat, traveling to your home country quite simply <i>does not count</i> as traveling abroad.<br />
<br />
<h2>
<span style="font-size: large;">When will you <i>finally</i> go abroad again?</span></h2>
<br />
Next week!<br />
<br />
So nice of you to ask.<br />
<br />
We're taking advantage of the October school break (see above) and headed to the Balkans. Mostly we'll putter around Dubrovnik. Without kids we could probably see the city in two days, but we tend to roughly double our time with the wee ones along. In addition, we'll add some cross-border forays into Bosnia and Montenegro.<br />
<br />
Crucially for Jackson, we'll be back home in time for Halloween. <i>Phew</i>. Some of our American traditions are sacred.<br />
<br />
And then as an added travel bonus, I'm taking a solo trip in early November to Berlin. While I'll get some sightseeing done, the main focus of that trip is to hear the Berlin Philharmonic, conducted by my hero, Simon Rattle. This is Rattle's final season with Berlin<span class="_Tgc"> </span><span class="_Tgc">and I wanted to squeeze in a chance to hear them together. For a music/conducting nerd, the chance to hear the world's greatest orchestra with the world's greatest conductor is a dream come true. And a dream best realized without two little kids in the audience, hence my solo trip.</span><br />
<br />
So after more than a year of not traveling abroad, we're finally busting out of the U.K. borders and getting our travel mojo back. 'Tis been a long time coming.<br />
<br />
Now, it's time to get going.<br />
<br />Coloring Without Bordershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00217261486666011245noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5569670220516132426.post-45895267549718715092016-07-19T22:31:00.000+01:002016-07-19T22:31:11.267+01:00Dormant . . . but soon awakeningThis blog has been hibernating.<br />
<br />
Well, that's not quite right. It hasn't been <i>sleeping</i> for months, though there has been a fair bit of energy conservation. Perhaps I could spin it as cocooning, but the blog's not a chrysalis that will metamorphosize into a butterfly.<br />
<br />
In truth, my blogging energies have been <span class="st" data-hveid="56">*temporarily</span><span class="st" data-hveid="56">* wrenched away toward other things. For example, I present <i>Exhibit A</i>:</span><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/--BxLDAALXzg/V4531qHeSII/AAAAAAAAHxE/ll76AFngsckVuQzPJmx3mEVk4Hno5vWkwCLcB/s1600/DSC_4801%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Dormant baby as a Sour Patch Kids sorting table" border="0" height="425" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/--BxLDAALXzg/V4531qHeSII/AAAAAAAAHxE/ll76AFngsckVuQzPJmx3mEVk4Hno5vWkwCLcB/s1600/DSC_4801%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Dormant baby as a Sour Patch Kids sorting table" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sleeping, and arrayed with pretty colors, but not becoming a butterfly. Though he seems occasionally to metamorphosize into a Sour Patch Kids sorting table.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The lil' scribbler has reached four months of age and he is, to put it bluntly, a time-suck. When awake he demands our attention. While his naptimes might provide good time for blogging, his are short and irregular catnaps. Someday in the future he'll undoubtedly trend toward a single morning nap and a single afternoon nap, but that day has not yet arrived.<br />
<br />
Admittedly, the burden of baby care falls more on Kate because, y'know, breastfeeding and stuff. And let's face it, who do you trust more to trim tiny fingernails and toenails? But I can't really sneak off and leave her alone for the <span style="color: red;"><strike>drudgery</strike></span> joy of entertaining an infant. <i>Hey, keep that screaming kid away while I sit here and . . . blog.</i><br />
<br />
That's not a good look as a father, I've found. <br />
<br />
Along with the new kid comes the usual nesting and organizing. New drapes for the baby's room. New cabinets and bureaus to stash the big kid's toys and make room for the new kid's gear. Of course, with those quasi-necessary things <span style="color: red;"><strike>Kate has</strike></span> we have somehow also snuck in new baker's shelves for the kitchen, new plants for the garden, and so on. The to-do list grows, never shrinks.<br />
<br />
<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://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LLqwzrl7qpw/V46GACFr64I/AAAAAAAAHxk/dIsvPd2zU1gA_NB-0He5da0fx4iF350MwCLcB/s1600/birthday%2Binvitation.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Jackson at the climbing gym" border="0" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LLqwzrl7qpw/V46GACFr64I/AAAAAAAAHxk/dIsvPd2zU1gA_NB-0He5da0fx4iF350MwCLcB/s1600/birthday%2Binvitation.jpg" title="Jackson at the climbing gym" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The photo we used for Jackson's birthday party invitation.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Just because we have bright and shiny <i>Exhibit A</i> doesn't mean we can neglect <i>Exhibit B</i>, the older kid. <a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2016/01/in-england-school-starts-at-age-4.html">Jackson started school in January when we moved from Scotland to England</a>, and school-age children seem to multiply the number of activities and overall busyness of afternoons and weekends (a.k.a., my prime blogging times).<br />
<br />
Playdates, birthday parties, field trips, and PTA. We got our act together to produce a kick-ass birthday party for Jackson's fifth birthday (his first-ever birthday party) at a climbing gym, but wowzers did the planning/invitations/fretting/gift bags/cake/thank you cards/etc. gobble up time. And let's not forget the least favorite time-suck: homework.<br />
<br />
(<i>Ed.'s note: Who gives </i>homework<i> to kindergarten-age children?</i>)<br />
<br />
England, that's who. Not all the time. But every so often the kids get
hit with six pages of work for a weekend. Or ten pages due next
Wednesday. Or even eighteen f$!*%@ pages over a vacation week. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_ZkBlIvv5Zw/V46EYObrLEI/AAAAAAAAHxU/GpLwAPTBhDQ-lusmwKM91BSll44A3EoDwCLcB/s1600/IMG_4099%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Nana and Grampa Bill take Jackson to school" border="0" height="300" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_ZkBlIvv5Zw/V46EYObrLEI/AAAAAAAAHxU/GpLwAPTBhDQ-lusmwKM91BSll44A3EoDwCLcB/s1600/IMG_4099%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Nana and Grampa Bill take Jackson to school" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nana and Grampa Bill take Jackson to school.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I mean,
isn't the point of the vacation to be a break from schooling?<br />
<br />
But I digress.<br />
<br />
What else has wrenched away my blogging hours? We've had the requisite visits with the grandparents (<i>Exhibit C</i>) for the new baby, with some de rigueur sightseeing thrown in.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EHv4FnMggls/V46ObOFxduI/AAAAAAAAHx4/3UP8AqpMzrE32vDwEyzDQvdSrDCDMzd-wCLcB/s1600/DSC_5078%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Exploring the grounds of Berkeley Castle in Bristol, England" border="0" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EHv4FnMggls/V46ObOFxduI/AAAAAAAAHx4/3UP8AqpMzrE32vDwEyzDQvdSrDCDMzd-wCLcB/s640/DSC_5078%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Exploring the grounds of Berkeley Castle in Bristol, England" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nana and Grampa Bill explore the grounds of Berkeley Castle, north of Bristol. Grampa Bill, our genealogy buff, informs us that we have ancestors who once lived in the castle.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Similarly, <i>Exhibit D</i>: travel<span class="st" data-hveid="54"> and sightseeing eats up a fair bit of our time. We've tried to put Kate's maternity leave to good advantage by exploring southwestern England, whether around town in Bristol <a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2016/04/last-week-cotswolds-this-week.html">or nearby in the Cotswolds</a>, or even further afield in Cornwall.</span><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zpgGnXsZIWQ/V46Q8su2PvI/AAAAAAAAHyM/OphGHXdivSwwJE3a0ptDi1ZKw7cnXp2LgCLcB/s1600/DSC_1529%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Kynance Cove in Cornwall, England" border="0" height="382" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zpgGnXsZIWQ/V46Q8su2PvI/AAAAAAAAHyM/OphGHXdivSwwJE3a0ptDi1ZKw7cnXp2LgCLcB/s1600/DSC_1529%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Kynance Cove in Cornwall, Engand" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The captivatingly beautiful Kynance Cove in Cornwall, England.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pQzLqaay_FA/V46Q8bC2EcI/AAAAAAAAHyI/1krsVoPYr40aw1msSc6dgOJ4aW1VkYPvQCLcB/s1600/DSC_0855%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Jackson levitates above the beach in St. Ives, Cornwall" border="0" height="427" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pQzLqaay_FA/V46Q8bC2EcI/AAAAAAAAHyI/1krsVoPYr40aw1msSc6dgOJ4aW1VkYPvQCLcB/s1600/DSC_0855%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Jackson levitates above the beach in St. Ives, Cornwall" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On a beach in St. Ives, we learned he can levitate! </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
But all those things <span class="st" data-hveid="54">— new baby, older kid starting school, visitors, and travel </span><span class="st" data-hveid="54">— pale in comparison to the giant <span style="color: red;"><strike>time-suck</strike> <strike>time waster</strike></span> recipient of my devotion. <i>Exhibit E</i> is . . . </span><br />
<span class="st" data-hveid="54"><br /></span>
<span class="st" data-hveid="54">Kate, of course.</span><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NgkvlVlP3fk/V46TShVKADI/AAAAAAAAHyg/dSAnDwD07LgqOKd3y3MOyFeXeOAkuI7zACLcB/s1600/DSC_1763%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Kate" border="0" height="266" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NgkvlVlP3fk/V46TShVKADI/AAAAAAAAHyg/dSAnDwD07LgqOKd3y3MOyFeXeOAkuI7zACLcB/s1600/DSC_1763%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Kate" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Who, me?</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Now, I'm not saying she doesn't <i>allow</i> me to blog while she's home. That wouldn't be accurate.<br />
<br />
It's not quite true she would <i>frown upon</i> it.<br />
<br />
But let's say that life goes more smoothly if I'm putting my full efforts and energy toward <span style="color: red;"><strike>her</strike></span> the baby and our chores and our family activities. Fewer eye rolls and sighs. <br />
<br />
(<i>Ed.'s note: She will deny this. Vociferously.</i>)<br />
<br />
Ohh, I know.<br />
<br />
And so, until Kate returns to work from maternity leave in September, things round these parts may be scarce. I'm gonna try to eke out a post here and there, but no promises.<br />
<br />
Then in September, I'm sure I'll have oodles and oodles of time for blogging while taking care of an infant all day. Right?<br />
<br />
<br />Coloring Without Bordershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00217261486666011245noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5569670220516132426.post-80799376979652491222016-04-22T10:51:00.001+01:002016-04-22T10:51:41.617+01:00Favorite photos of places we visited our second yearAlthough it has been a long time coming, I'm finally wrapping up my photos from our second year living abroad. You can see some of the previous posts from the links at the bottom. These are of places, not people, though a couple shots have folks in them. Also, shots of domestic and wild animals caught my fancy this year, so I've thrown in a few. (If only you knew how many photos of puffins I have . . . )<br />
<br />
As always, I agonize over selecting my "favorites" when <a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2016/03/nearly-favorite-photos-of-places-we.html">some of the nearly favorites woulda coulda shoulda been chosen instead</a>. But I'm stuck now, so I need to stop whimpering and get on with it.<br />
<br />
These photos aren't all from 2015, mind you. Rather, these are photos from June 2014 to June 2015. Yes, I'm that far behind. {<i>shrug</i>}<br />
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As a final word, I'll note that the places depicted aren't necessarily my favorites of the year. Instead, they're the <i>favorite photos</i>, not the favorite spots or buildings or vistas. That said, some of the places are pretty damn awesome.<br />
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Enjoy!<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QjweelmROlk/Vv1JLLWofeI/AAAAAAAAHnY/w9-JwRzxaO4JUe1nLyrQ65_zC2vPXFJKA/s1600/DSC_0551.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="The Kelpies statues in Falkirk, Scotland" border="0" height="424" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QjweelmROlk/Vv1JLLWofeI/AAAAAAAAHnY/w9-JwRzxaO4JUe1nLyrQ65_zC2vPXFJKA/s1600/DSC_0551.JPG" title="The Kelpies statues in Falkirk, Scotland" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2014/09/monday-exposure-kelpies.html">The Kelpies</a> are the largest equine statues in the world. (Falkirk, Scotland)</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-m4nrqn9BKNc/Vv1JMdr7HzI/AAAAAAAAHnc/xR7hyK6UFcY0hTA0G3vOsg2Dh4Q1_7zMw/s1600/DSC_7589%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Inverary Castle in Argyll, Scotland" border="0" height="384" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-m4nrqn9BKNc/Vv1JMdr7HzI/AAAAAAAAHnc/xR7hyK6UFcY0hTA0G3vOsg2Dh4Q1_7zMw/s1600/DSC_7589%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Inverary Castle in Argyll, Scotland" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Inverary Castle, the ancestral home of the Duke of Argyll (and a filming location for episodes of <i>Downton Abbey</i>). (Inverary, Scotland)</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QcBm1q4gPoY/Vwppe3RJWlI/AAAAAAAAHn4/q7gYnJQ2b94uaSko48tHs1rBuFTuCS5_Q/s1600/DSC_0915.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Puffin on the Isle of Lunga, in the Treshnish Isles" border="0" height="426" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QcBm1q4gPoY/Vwppe3RJWlI/AAAAAAAAHn4/q7gYnJQ2b94uaSko48tHs1rBuFTuCS5_Q/s1600/DSC_0915.JPG" title="Puffin on the Isle of Lunga, in the Treshnish Isles" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You'll find nowhere in the world with better access to puffins and other seabirds than the Isle of Lunga, part of the Treshnish Isles on the west coast of Scotland. (Lunga, Scotland)</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-67BWzqFm664/VwpqsUKZypI/AAAAAAAAHoI/3cifY6DotCQEBRoi-2TQx-CoWYWg0i_hg/s1600/DSC_0490%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Rainbow leads into Castle Train, Ireland" border="0" height="384" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-67BWzqFm664/VwpqsUKZypI/AAAAAAAAHoI/3cifY6DotCQEBRoi-2TQx-CoWYWg0i_hg/s1600/DSC_0490%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Rainbow leads into Castle Trim, Ireland" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of those elusive pots of gold can be found in Castle Trim, Ireland. (Castle Trim, Ireland)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EdaN8aPLitk/VwpqqiM-AJI/AAAAAAAAHoA/jxdtoIOFzDcDCOZTHBDAASoQLg24rp0_w/s1600/DSC_0637.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="The "Table," part of the Quiraing on the Isle of Skye" border="0" height="360" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EdaN8aPLitk/VwpqqiM-AJI/AAAAAAAAHoA/jxdtoIOFzDcDCOZTHBDAASoQLg24rp0_w/s1600/DSC_0637.JPG" title="The "Table," part of the Quiraing on the Isle of Skye" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A fantastic hike of the Quiraing on the Isle of Skye ends with a view of the "Table." That's my bro-in-law, David, at top right. (Quiraing, Isle of Skye, Scotland)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FzcykhOqDjs/Vwpqq3k2d1I/AAAAAAAAHoE/sUitkKRpRdkqomZvuGOYQVv9OmLXu4ryA/s1600/DSC_1053%2B-%2BVersion%2B3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Temple of Olympian Zeus in Athens, Greece" border="0" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FzcykhOqDjs/Vwpqq3k2d1I/AAAAAAAAHoE/sUitkKRpRdkqomZvuGOYQVv9OmLXu4ryA/s1600/DSC_1053%2B-%2BVersion%2B3.JPG" title="Temple of Olympian Zeus in Athens, Greece" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I love the juxtaposition of tiny Jackson with the monumental <a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2015/03/monday-exposure-temple-of-olympian-zeus.html">Temple of Olympian Zeus</a>. (Athens, Greece)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6XVKMvXH7js/VwpvY7JCxPI/AAAAAAAAHoc/O6pAAh-aulQyau87nK18uyjzakKRECr0g/s1600/DSC_1035.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Neist Point Lighthouse on the Isle of Skye, Scotland" border="0" height="360" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6XVKMvXH7js/VwpvY7JCxPI/AAAAAAAAHoc/O6pAAh-aulQyau87nK18uyjzakKRECr0g/s1600/DSC_1035.JPG" title="Neist Point Lighthouse on the Isle of Skye, Scotland" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Another great hike on Skye is to the deserted <a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2014/08/monday-exposure-neist-point-lighthouse.html">Neist Point Lighthouse</a>. (Isle of Skye, Scotland)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5HH06zES_dk/VwpvawyKLeI/AAAAAAAAHog/wg70pp9k0D4Dq8fNKHNolf74NPLquT_ZA/s1600/DSC_0423%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Cows in the snow in Colorado, USA" border="0" height="384" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5HH06zES_dk/VwpvawyKLeI/AAAAAAAAHog/wg70pp9k0D4Dq8fNKHNolf74NPLquT_ZA/s1600/DSC_0423%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Cows in the snow in Colorado, USA" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In nearly three years abroad, <a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2015/01/expat-lessons-from-our-return-trip-home.html">we've only returned to the U.S. once</a>. We love the snow in Colorado, where Grammar and one of Kate's sisters live. (Mesa, Colorado, U.S.A.)</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-B4KKNmJmATo/VwpvXSn9nhI/AAAAAAAAHoY/lk2_nOqaX7EGinHG_r03fT2lkpKV1B9DQ/s1600/DSC_1024.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Open sky ceiling at Jedburgh Abbey, Scotland" border="0" height="424" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-B4KKNmJmATo/VwpvXSn9nhI/AAAAAAAAHoY/lk2_nOqaX7EGinHG_r03fT2lkpKV1B9DQ/s1600/DSC_1024.JPG" title="Open sky ceiling at Jedburgh Abbey, Scotland" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I try to snap a pic of the ceilings in all the churches, abbeys, and cathedrals we visit. Sometimes, the best ceiling is no ceiling at all. (Jedburgh Abbey, Scotland)</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Qnxwfd6jBmU/Vwpzk5Pl2cI/AAAAAAAAHow/QiRRuQp_JpEaU-QxLlK_wJimwFD6OL6Rg/s1600/DSC_0743%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Floating heads in the Kelvingrove Museum, Glasgow, Scotland" border="0" height="426" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Qnxwfd6jBmU/Vwpzk5Pl2cI/AAAAAAAAHow/QiRRuQp_JpEaU-QxLlK_wJimwFD6OL6Rg/s1600/DSC_0743%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Floating heads in the Kelvingrove Museum, Glasgow, Scotland" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This exhibit, Floating Heads, greets visitors at the U.K.'s most visited museum outside of London, the Kelvingrove Museum. (Glasgow, Scotland)</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-74uaCXUqwgM/Vwpzkt2MDmI/AAAAAAAAHos/hnjjnE1TyNYsMT-hwa05d92nl95DOUh6w/s1600/DSC_0111%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Jacobite steam train puffs across the Glenfinnan Viaduct in western Scotland" border="0" height="360" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-74uaCXUqwgM/Vwpzkt2MDmI/AAAAAAAAHos/hnjjnE1TyNYsMT-hwa05d92nl95DOUh6w/s1600/DSC_0111%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Jacobite steam train puffs across the Glenfinnan Viaduct in western Scotland" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The <a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2013/10/riding-jacobite.html">Jacobite steam train</a>, also known as the Hogwarts Express, huffs and puffs <a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2014/09/monday-exposure-glenfinnan-viaduct.html">across the Glenfinnan Viaduct</a>. (Glenfinnan, Scotland)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xJ4qVFCfhWI/Vwpz8KJspEI/AAAAAAAAHo4/S_FeqqQ2530Vlz84jKPcLoRX4yvz8YKyw/s1600/DSC_0844%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Ruins of Crossraguel Abbey in Maybole, Scotland" border="0" height="426" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xJ4qVFCfhWI/Vwpz8KJspEI/AAAAAAAAHo4/S_FeqqQ2530Vlz84jKPcLoRX4yvz8YKyw/s1600/DSC_0844%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Ruins of Crossraguel Abbey in Maybole, Scotland" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">People aren't the only ones who enjoy the beauty of the Crossraguel Abbey ruins. (Maybole, Scotland)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Lc_8gnhkyzE/Vwp0InbvrPI/AAAAAAAAHpE/76q9d4430I47EjQ6skpOkfszyBeFgWRbg/s1600/DSC_0678%2B-%2BVersion%2B3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Tower ruin in Trim, Ireland" border="0" height="384" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Lc_8gnhkyzE/Vwp0InbvrPI/AAAAAAAAHpE/76q9d4430I47EjQ6skpOkfszyBeFgWRbg/s1600/DSC_0678%2B-%2BVersion%2B3.JPG" title="Tower ruin in Trim, Ireland" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What can I say? I <i>lurv</i> me some ruins. This tower fragment stands in a village outside Dublin. (Trim, Ireland)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-e3sSc_l_QIM/Vwp0HfVGBCI/AAAAAAAAHpA/TFE43JZux5Q6WiV_QzlAH3V5AMAxl0AtQ/s1600/DSC_0434.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="View of Loch Lomond from Inchcailloch" border="0" height="360" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-e3sSc_l_QIM/Vwp0HfVGBCI/AAAAAAAAHpA/TFE43JZux5Q6WiV_QzlAH3V5AMAxl0AtQ/s1600/DSC_0434.JPG" title="View of Loch Lomond from Inchcailloch" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The most scenic lake in Scotland, as viewed from the summit of one of its islands, Inchcailloch. (Loch Lomond, Scotland)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<b>Did you enjoy those? Here are more favorite pics of our second year in Scotland:</b><br />
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<a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2016/03/nearly-favorite-photos-of-places-we.html" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Hampton Court Palace, London, England" border="0" height="103" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_TqMVN6iknM/VtWpErhd-fI/AAAAAAAAHh0/J8E3-_mEgFg/s200/DSC_1515%2B-%2BVersion%2B3.JPG" title="Hampton Court Palace, London, England" width="200" /></a><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2016/03/nearly-favorite-photos-of-places-we.html">(Nearly) favorite photos of places we visited our second year in Scotland</a></span><br />
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<a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2016/02/favorite-family-photos-of-our-second.html" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="On the beach on Inchcailloch in Loch Lomond" border="0" height="112" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1U_tTTDW5aQ/VrobDCBVOUI/AAAAAAAAHY8/aUZnQBt7q68/s1600/DSC_0451.JPG" title="On the beach on Inchcailloch in Loch Lomond" width="200" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2016/02/favorite-family-photos-of-our-second.html">Favorite family photos of our second year in Scotland</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><b><span style="font-size: x-small;"></span></b></span>
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<a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2016/02/nearly-favorite-family-photos-of-our.html" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt=" http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2016/02/nearly-favorite-family-photos-of-our.html" border="0" height="111" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wlGI2TkROBw/VrOErsg40OI/AAAAAAAAHUs/m4HQyFzQcjM/s1600/DSC_0733%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Hiking on the Trotternish Peninsula on the Isle of Skye" width="200" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2016/02/nearly-favorite-family-photos-of-our.html">(Nearly) favorite photos of our second year in Scotland</a></span><br />
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<b>Want to see more? Here are the favorites from our first year in Scotland:</b><br />
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<a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2014/07/favorite-photos-of-places-we-visited.html" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt=" http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2014/07/favorite-photos-of-places-we-visited.html" border="0" height="132" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mzC3CJrjTiA/U9J7RAagyyI/AAAAAAAAD1E/U5qNsjk8VS0/s1600/DSC_0925.JPG" title="Dryburgh Abbey ruins; Dryburgh, Scotland" width="200" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2014/07/favorite-photos-of-places-we-visited.html">Favorite photos of places we visited in our first year</a></span><br />
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<a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2014/07/nearly-favorite-photos-of-places-we.html" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt=" http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2014/07/nearly-favorite-photos-of-places-we.html" border="0" height="111" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EA3wbHngIXE/U8VAAm4WTZI/AAAAAAAADso/4jIeE3tONRo/s1600/DSC_0973.JPG" width="200" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2014/07/nearly-favorite-photos-of-places-we.html">(Nearly) favorite photos of places we visited our first year</a></span><br />
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<a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2014/06/favorite-family-photos-of-our-first.html" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt=" http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2014/06/favorite-family-photos-of-our-first.html" border="0" height="112" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UBY9grM7dOE/U5TLX9YLvTI/AAAAAAAADgQ/5IOpmXdSnbo/s1600/DSC_0369.JPG" width="200" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2014/06/favorite-family-photos-of-our-first.html">Favorite family photos of our first year in Scotland</a></span><br />
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<a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2014/06/nearly-favorite-family-photos-of-our.html" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt=" http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2014/06/nearly-favorite-family-photos-of-our.html" border="0" height="97" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FfFuEEBsODQ/U5XA28lWNmI/AAAAAAAADhI/DWMmxLiq39g/s1600/DSC_0071_2.JPG" width="200" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2014/06/nearly-favorite-family-photos-of-our.html">(Nearly) favorite family photos of our first year in Scotland</a></span><br />
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<br />Coloring Without Bordershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00217261486666011245noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5569670220516132426.post-70601564140980195002016-04-14T20:33:00.000+01:002016-04-14T20:33:10.486+01:00Last week, the Cotswolds; this week . . . <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Xle0YlJyWNs/Vw4MCd8rSSI/AAAAAAAAHpo/89JT2JRH_38URqP4G1mQp-o6ucl1ynAYQCLcB/s1600/DSC_2366%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Snowshill village in the Cotswolds" border="0" height="382" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Xle0YlJyWNs/Vw4MCd8rSSI/AAAAAAAAHpo/89JT2JRH_38URqP4G1mQp-o6ucl1ynAYQCLcB/s1600/DSC_2366%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Snowshill village in the Cotswolds" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The village of Snowshill, in the Cotswolds.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Last week we explored the quintessential English countryside of the Cotswolds. Idyllic farms, rolling hills, quaint villages, creamy stone cottages, and everywhere you look: sheep.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1D-l0fGM-18/Vw4UtzMbEuI/AAAAAAAAHqo/Yh9Z9oPr9sInYMbhGv3Hke_MRfuUgw0xQCLcB/s1600/DSC_1120%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Black-faced sheep in Cotswolds" border="0" height="426" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1D-l0fGM-18/Vw4UtzMbEuI/AAAAAAAAHqo/Yh9Z9oPr9sInYMbhGv3Hke_MRfuUgw0xQCLcB/s1600/DSC_1120%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Black-faced sheep in Cotswolds" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">For centuries, wool was the lifeblood of the Cotswolds.</td></tr>
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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://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UZgannVoKtM/Vw4SP-sfoKI/AAAAAAAAHqM/ah0ZCn9cLcQ3MsaHZ1fCxKuDJlIU4m9FQCLcB/s1600/DSC_3113%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Great Hall of Blenheim Palace" border="0" height="213" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UZgannVoKtM/Vw4SP-sfoKI/AAAAAAAAHqM/ah0ZCn9cLcQ3MsaHZ1fCxKuDJlIU4m9FQCLcB/s1600/DSC_3113%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Great Hall of Blenheim Palace" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Inside the Great Hall at Blenheim Palace. </td></tr>
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You might think <a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2016/03/the-lil-scribbler-arrives.html">the arrival of a new baby</a> would pause our travel itch. Heck no! When traveling with young children, the newborns and infants are much easier <span class="st">—</span> much more <i>compliant</i> <span class="st">— </span>than toddlers and preschoolers. You need to stop every so often to feed them and change diapers, but mostly they sleep all day. Easy peasy. <br />
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The lil' scribbler celebrated his first month anniversary in style at Blenheim Palace. But, of course, he dozed through nearly all of it in his baby carrier. <i>Typical</i>.<br />
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The 4<span class="st">¾ year olds . . . those are the ones to whom you have to cater. It's like they've actually become little people, with real wants and opinions. </span> <br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MSYwKXH-pGs/Vw4SPtdvsNI/AAAAAAAAHqI/IlJsC2LTcWsvFvR5HB8cVfSHPjuVPAU6ACLcB/s1600/DSC_3139%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Exterior facade of Blenheim Palace" border="0" height="428" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MSYwKXH-pGs/Vw4SPtdvsNI/AAAAAAAAHqI/IlJsC2LTcWsvFvR5HB8cVfSHPjuVPAU6ACLcB/s1600/DSC_3139%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Exterior facade of Blenheim Palace" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fortunately, this 4<span class="st">¾ year old was happy to explore </span>Blenheim Palace inside and out.</td></tr>
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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://4.bp.blogspot.com/-thLBM75fq5M/Vw-zYYFnvaI/AAAAAAAAHq8/0f1bYjnhYTs05TeCVcKWQ58aUafy76ECgCLcB/s1600/DSC_3703%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Rose Cottage in Lower Slaughter" border="0" height="214" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-thLBM75fq5M/Vw-zYYFnvaI/AAAAAAAAHq8/0f1bYjnhYTs05TeCVcKWQ58aUafy76ECgCLcB/s1600/DSC_3703%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Rose Cottage in Lower Slaughter" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our cottage.</td></tr>
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We rented a lovely cottage in the even more lovely village of Lower Slaughter. Quite a name for a town, don't you think? If you're like me, your first thought was about slaughtering the ubiquitous sheep. But apparently the "slaughter" part derives from an old Anglo-Saxon term ("slough" or "slothre") for mud.<br />
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Which makes sense for the village, given its position on a low-banked river that runs through it. In truth, the "River" Eye looks more like a stream, crisscrossed by bridges skimming the surface.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-de-lcwwVM5g/Vw-zYl2r6qI/AAAAAAAAHrA/r9TTafrFd1U4vVfwxmPlPSOiHxY2faE8ACLcB/s1600/DSC_2752%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Lower Slaughter along the River Eye" border="0" height="428" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-de-lcwwVM5g/Vw-zYl2r6qI/AAAAAAAAHrA/r9TTafrFd1U4vVfwxmPlPSOiHxY2faE8ACLcB/s1600/DSC_2752%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Lower Slaughter along the River Eye" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lower Slaughter cozies up to the low banks of the River Eye.</td></tr>
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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://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MDomjIGnLQw/Vw-91fVCaPI/AAAAAAAAHro/AsUJPLmwPyw7nijOTy4uHH6oLceeT-lkACLcB/s1600/DSC_2612%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Biking in Stanton, Cotswolds" border="0" height="214" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MDomjIGnLQw/Vw-91fVCaPI/AAAAAAAAHro/AsUJPLmwPyw7nijOTy4uHH6oLceeT-lkACLcB/s1600/DSC_2612%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Biking in Stanton, Cotswolds" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jackson biking through the village of Stanton.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
From our central location we crisscrossed the Cotswolds, trying to do more than merely skim the surface. We rambled through castles. Delved into ruins. Petted farm animals. Reconnoitered old villages. Chugged on steam trains. Investigated neolithic barrows. Strolled through gardens. Climbed up towers. <br />
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Hiked.<br />
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Biked.<br />
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Drank coffee.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tUxUf2g5x7A/Vw_BPaXtVXI/AAAAAAAAHr4/DtPuXFI67GcWFaUB_oOqrwDNQa974i5XACLcB/s1600/DSC_3396%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="The Old Mill Cafe in Lower Slaughter" border="0" height="425" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tUxUf2g5x7A/Vw_BPaXtVXI/AAAAAAAAHr4/DtPuXFI67GcWFaUB_oOqrwDNQa974i5XACLcB/s1600/DSC_3396%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="The Old Mill Cafe in Lower Slaughter" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A mid-morning refueling.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dxRlnvtd3tY/Vw_BPn5uZ-I/AAAAAAAAHr8/n0NRaxFIol0NutkL1Qfwn3S_KPH88m1JwCLcB/s1600/DSC_2415.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Broadway Tower" border="0" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dxRlnvtd3tY/Vw_BPn5uZ-I/AAAAAAAAHr8/n0NRaxFIol0NutkL1Qfwn3S_KPH88m1JwCLcB/s1600/DSC_2415.JPG" title="Broadway Tower" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Charging up to see Broadway Tower.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZbZf2msAb1M/Vw_CMRdFqYI/AAAAAAAAHsI/Ny7aDZo6nQ0j6XRd7P5IeO8e3crZhE51gCLcB/s1600/DSC_2701%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Arlington Row in Bibury" border="0" height="428" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZbZf2msAb1M/Vw_CMRdFqYI/AAAAAAAAHsI/Ny7aDZo6nQ0j6XRd7P5IeO8e3crZhE51gCLcB/s640/DSC_2701%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Arlington Row in Bibury" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sometimes Jackson grew bored exploring yet another village (e.g., Bibury) and the silliness overtook him. And his grandmother.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PcJIUQHUZDU/Vw-904__1TI/AAAAAAAAHrk/Pep-u33nH00JtaIXn3H_i8AN1QNX6cV0wCLcB/s1600/DSC_1113%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Hidcote Manor Gardens" border="0" height="428" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PcJIUQHUZDU/Vw-904__1TI/AAAAAAAAHrk/Pep-u33nH00JtaIXn3H_i8AN1QNX6cV0wCLcB/s1600/DSC_1113%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Hidcote Manor Gardens" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hidcote Manor Gardens were gorgeous even in early spring, before most of the blooming.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3kZ7TQN79TU/Vw_CMGM7UfI/AAAAAAAAHsE/GLaXuMOGNe420dWGNRO3gjXCTMSQ7XhggCKgB/s1600/DSC_3472%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Holding rabbits at Adam Henson's Cotswold Farm Park" border="0" height="428" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3kZ7TQN79TU/Vw_CMGM7UfI/AAAAAAAAHsE/GLaXuMOGNe420dWGNRO3gjXCTMSQ7XhggCKgB/s1600/DSC_3472%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Holding rabbits at Adam Henson's Cotswold Farm Park" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Cotswold Farm Park provides plenty of hands-on experiences.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CYgQ04h-gIk/Vw_DHJjnbVI/AAAAAAAAHsU/2SNdssK_Fboz4rr6MQxXmYW5L09X54ojgCLcB/s1600/DSC_3669%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Parish church in Temple Guiting" border="0" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CYgQ04h-gIk/Vw_DHJjnbVI/AAAAAAAAHsU/2SNdssK_Fboz4rr6MQxXmYW5L09X54ojgCLcB/s1600/DSC_3669%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Parish church in Temple Guiting" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We searched for hidden gems, like this ancient Templar parish church in Temple Guiting.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JM1rkSkR4xI/Vw_DHmTHGfI/AAAAAAAAHsc/fbyJu-l5sIAO9nqYr1hbF7U5jf0cQ9DDgCLcB/s1600/DSC_1581%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Model Village in Bourton-on-the-Water" border="0" height="426" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JM1rkSkR4xI/Vw_DHmTHGfI/AAAAAAAAHsc/fbyJu-l5sIAO9nqYr1hbF7U5jf0cQ9DDgCLcB/s1600/DSC_1581%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Model Village in Bourton-on-the-Water" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Have Kate and baby Finley grown to giant size, or is this the remarkably (and painstakingly) accurate Model Village in Bourton-on-the-Water? </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VUxi2df4nJc/Vw_DHJ4ET-I/AAAAAAAAHsY/kv54khL38SkVyxbV8JhoWjrU9Fq2YPjGACLcB/s1600/DSC_2324%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Steam train on the Gloucester Warwickshire Railway" border="0" height="426" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VUxi2df4nJc/Vw_DHJ4ET-I/AAAAAAAAHsY/kv54khL38SkVyxbV8JhoWjrU9Fq2YPjGACLcB/s1600/DSC_2324%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Steam train on the Gloucester Warwickshire Railway" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2013/10/riding-jacobite.html">Our train-mad boy</a> steaming along the vintage Gloucester Warwickshire Railway.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
'Twas a full week.<br />
<br />
For the new baby we've had Kate's mom (i.e., Grammar) staying with us since mid-February. This week we've been joined by my parents (i.e., Nana and Grampa Bill), and the explorations continue. Over the next couple of weeks we'll ramble through Bristol, head south into Somerset for <a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2013/10/wells-bishops-palace-vicars-close-and.html">awesome places like Wells</a>, and take a quick jaunt or two across the border to Wales.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ugHi_S7BYLU/Vw_p4BDzJJI/AAAAAAAAHsw/XDSD9A2FzTkCvpJ8xBmC-gWiKUNnRn1kACLcB/s1600/DSC_2211%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Grammar on the steam train" border="0" height="425" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ugHi_S7BYLU/Vw_p4BDzJJI/AAAAAAAAHsw/XDSD9A2FzTkCvpJ8xBmC-gWiKUNnRn1kACLcB/s1600/DSC_2211%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Grammar on the steam train" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grammar on the steam train.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
But I promise, no more month-long breaks in posts around
here. Check back next week for more traveling and photographic goodness!<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OgSufH6ArNE/Vw_ppuqP2vI/AAAAAAAAHss/RKjAt46AKZgcHh8HO7hN3z0DahjwALmIACLcB/s1600/DSC_4407%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Tintern Abbey in Wales" border="0" height="428" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OgSufH6ArNE/Vw_ppuqP2vI/AAAAAAAAHss/RKjAt46AKZgcHh8HO7hN3z0DahjwALmIACLcB/s1600/DSC_4407%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Tintern Abbey in Wales" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nana and Grampa Bill amidst the ruins of Tintern Abbey in southeastern Wales.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br />Coloring Without Bordershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00217261486666011245noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5569670220516132426.post-28050106880586582672016-03-16T15:10:00.001+00:002016-03-16T15:10:22.887+00:00The lil' scribbler arrives<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xvL5PO_aaFw/VuP0j_n5AYI/AAAAAAAAHlo/5_NXnC0uVFAd3S6wN0OZDxa34eD6_xtkA/s1600/DSC_9394%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Finley just after birth" border="0" height="428" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xvL5PO_aaFw/VuP0j_n5AYI/AAAAAAAAHlo/5_NXnC0uVFAd3S6wN0OZDxa34eD6_xtkA/s1600/DSC_9394%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Finley just after birth" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Six days late. Less than three hours of labor. A pound lighter than his older brother. <br />
<br />
Finally, the new lil' scribbler has arrived! He made his grand entrance ten days ago, on Mother's Day
(traditionally called Mothering Sunday here) in the United Kingdom. And, thank goodness, he came <a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2016/02/meconium-aspiration-is-crappy-start-to.html">without all the medical drama his big brother made us endure</a>. <br />
<br />
Frankly, the lil' scribbler's entrance was . . . not to put too fine a point on it . . . <i>boring</i>.<br />
<br />
<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://1.bp.blogspot.com/-q5PIANGcpDM/VuP4iR55ONI/AAAAAAAAHl0/uCmTcxR0x9kLL9xSUkQm69CvGPBL0BJBg/s1600/DSC_9364%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Kate with a cuppa" border="0" height="214" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-q5PIANGcpDM/VuP4iR55ONI/AAAAAAAAHl0/uCmTcxR0x9kLL9xSUkQm69CvGPBL0BJBg/s1600/DSC_9364%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Kate with a cuppa" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Recovery from any British birth requires a proper cup of tea.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Wonderfully boring!<br />
<br />
The whole labor and delivery thing was a breeze. {<i>Ed.'s note: Easy for you to say. Try giving birth.</i>} Kate's first contractions started around 1:30 in the morning. Her body decided to skip the introductory contractions. Instead, she dove straight into the full-on powerful ones. We waited an hour or so and then headed off to the hospital.<br />
<span class="st" data-hveid="47"><br /></span>
<span class="st" data-hveid="47">The maternity ward was packed. Who knew 2:45 am on a Sunday was such a popular time to deliver? In truth, the maternity ward was simply so understaffed that they couldn't even operate an entire wing of the ward. Understaffing is one of the National Health Service's not-so-secret methods of cost controls. Anywho, during our drive to the hospital they called and sought to redirect us to another hospital across town. But we missed the call </span><span class="st" data-hveid="47">— the phone was tucked away into Kate's bag </span><span class="st" data-hveid="47">— and we showed up at the hospital to crash the party.</span><br />
<br />
<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://2.bp.blogspot.com/--9rgJInKCOg/Vuk330aNNqI/AAAAAAAAHmE/KqjgJuPPec4HoqBaV_z9URqfypyEGMGDQ/s1600/DSC_9400%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Finley sleeping" border="0" height="212" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/--9rgJInKCOg/Vuk330aNNqI/AAAAAAAAHmE/KqjgJuPPec4HoqBaV_z9URqfypyEGMGDQ/s1600/DSC_9400%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Finley sleeping" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sleeping while momma takes a shower.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span class="st" data-hveid="47">They made room for us, grudgingly.</span><br />
<br />
We didn't take up much of their time. Our new baby boy, Finley, was born roughly an hour and a half later. Nor did we take up much of their resources. Unlike in the U.S., where most births are overseen by obstetricians, most births in the U.K. are overseen by midwives. Our midwife managed everything on her own. If there had been any complications, further medical staff was around. But generally the approach to birth here is less "medical" and more "natural," though circumstances or personal preferences can of course dictate otherwise.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5i1trtOIBJg/VuF2-A6AMZI/AAAAAAAAHlI/GuUmVRdSl2c/s1600/Kate%252C%2BJack%252C%2Band%2BFinn%2Bcollage-2.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Jackson meets Finley for the first time" border="0" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5i1trtOIBJg/VuF2-A6AMZI/AAAAAAAAHlI/GuUmVRdSl2c/s1600/Kate%252C%2BJack%252C%2Band%2BFinn%2Bcollage-2.png" title="Jackson meets Finley for the first time" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jackson met his new little brother, Finley, for the first time.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<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://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3FLgZkkenN8/Vuk33zLfZRI/AAAAAAAAHmM/rzpWzEut14oNyfGSx7qVXOmfILO1xV7dg/s1600/DSC_9457%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Grammar holding Finley" border="0" height="212" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3FLgZkkenN8/Vuk33zLfZRI/AAAAAAAAHmM/rzpWzEut14oNyfGSx7qVXOmfILO1xV7dg/s1600/DSC_9457%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Grammar holding Finley" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kate's mom ("Grammar") holding Finley in the hospital.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
In general, if it's a mother's second (or third, fourth, etc.) baby, they aim to send momma and baby home from the hospital within six to twelve hours. This has shocked some of our U.S. friends, who spent a day or two in the hospital after giving birth. But so long as both the mother and baby are doing well, and the baby is nursing successfully, they urge you to go home.<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://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MlJWS7oBweI/Vuk9TPmOjbI/AAAAAAAAHmY/rON7AiP1SSIsYLZB7OgMUeAQeP2Re6tIA/s1600/DSC_9477%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Finley in carseat" border="0" height="200" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MlJWS7oBweI/Vuk9TPmOjbI/AAAAAAAAHmY/rON7AiP1SSIsYLZB7OgMUeAQeP2Re6tIA/s1600/DSC_9477%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" title="Finley in carseat" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ready to go home.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
But going home doesn't mean you're suddenly on your own. A midwife comes to your home the next day to check on the baby and mother. If all is well, another midwife visit is scheduled for two days later. After two or three further days, you see a midwife again when the baby gets a poke for routine blood screenings. Several days later, you have another evaluation to make sure all is well and the baby is growing as expected. At that point, your medical supervision is handed over from midwives to a "health visitor," who makes periodic visits to babies and toddlers and follows their development. The usual vaccinations and other routine medical checkups are passed over to a general practitioner (GP), your family doctor.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1L-tyaQgO_k/Vuk9TcmFOiI/AAAAAAAAHmc/z2oGDj6mO4EKT_6cQf1Z4wFa3qt917Jag/s1600/DSC_9542%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Jackson holds Finley" border="0" height="512" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1L-tyaQgO_k/Vuk9TcmFOiI/AAAAAAAAHmc/z2oGDj6mO4EKT_6cQf1Z4wFa3qt917Jag/s1600/DSC_9542%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Jackson holds Finley" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Born early in the morning and home in time for dinner. We let Jackson, his devoted big brother, pick the clothes we bought for Finley to come home from the hospital.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I've been asked several times whether Finley, having been born in England, is a British citizen. He is not. Like the vast majority of countries in the world <span class="st" data-hveid="48">— including all of Europe and nearly all of Asia, Africa, and Oceania </span><span class="st" data-hveid="48">— the U.K. grants citizenship on a <i>jus sanguinis</i> basis (i.e., by "right of blood"). That means one parent must be a British citizen, or at least that immigrants like us need to be "settled" and have permanent residence status. However, if or when Kate and I gain U.K. citizenship in a few years, our children can also gain citizenship at the same time. Additionally, if Finley continues to live in the U.K. until he's ten years old, he becomes eligible for citizenship regardless of the citizenship status of his parents.</span><br />
<span class="st" data-hveid="48"><br /></span>
<span class="st" data-hveid="48">So, if the lil' scribbler isn't a British citizen, is he an American? Yes. In the U.S., like much of the Americas, citizenship is granted automatically on a <i>jus soli</i> basis (i.e., by "right of soil"), so anyone born within American territory is granted citizenship. Finley doesn't qualify on that basis. But generally speaking, the U.S. also grants citizenship to children born to U.S. citizens living abroad, as long as a few minor conditions are met. Finley (and his parents) check those boxes.</span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gWzYBrRN67c/VulxexfqBuI/AAAAAAAAHms/8mE9Woaw8OgVvH384POPaNV7YFH8Fs0jA/s1600/DSC_9861%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Congratulatory cards" border="0" height="384" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gWzYBrRN67c/VulxexfqBuI/AAAAAAAAHms/8mE9Woaw8OgVvH384POPaNV7YFH8Fs0jA/s1600/DSC_9861%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Congratulatory cards" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br />Coloring Without Bordershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00217261486666011245noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5569670220516132426.post-68347325712980699192016-03-02T11:11:00.001+00:002016-03-02T11:11:39.351+00:00(Nearly) favorite photos of places we visited our second yearIn February I shared our <a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2016/02/favorite-family-photos-of-our-second.html">favorite family photos</a>, and our <a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2016/02/nearly-favorite-family-photos-of-our.html">nearly favorite family photos</a>, from our second year in Scotland. They're not from the calendar year of 2015 but rather from our second year, running from mid-June 2014 to mid-June 2015. Many apologies for my lack of efficiency.<br />
<br />
The photos below I thought were striking in one way or another. They're not necessarily, however, our favorite places we visited. Rather, they're some of my favorite photos of places: landscapes, ruins, cityscapes, and so on.<br />
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Stay tuned for the upcoming post of my true favorites in the next week or two.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-b7gfBnlMhqE/VtWpC7mv3kI/AAAAAAAAHhw/cG098BeWtrg/s1600/DSC_0213%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Wildflowers outside St. Andrews Castle, Scotland" border="0" height="384" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-b7gfBnlMhqE/VtWpC7mv3kI/AAAAAAAAHhw/cG098BeWtrg/s1600/DSC_0213%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Wildflowers outside St. Andrews Castle, Scotland" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Peeking over the wildflowers outside St. Andrews Castle, Scotland.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_TqMVN6iknM/VtWpErhd-fI/AAAAAAAAHh0/J8E3-_mEgFg/s1600/DSC_1515%2B-%2BVersion%2B3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Hampton Court Palace, London, England" border="0" height="332" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_TqMVN6iknM/VtWpErhd-fI/AAAAAAAAHh0/J8E3-_mEgFg/s1600/DSC_1515%2B-%2BVersion%2B3.JPG" title="Hampton Court Palace, London, England" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Piercingly bright day at Hampton Court Palace, in Greater London.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Z0tyW46yp7M/VtWpE3zYcJI/AAAAAAAAHh4/D6nQ-fGu_3g/s1600/DSC_9085%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Lantern outside the Old Presbytery B&B in Kinsale, Ireland" border="0" height="426" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Z0tyW46yp7M/VtWpE3zYcJI/AAAAAAAAHh4/D6nQ-fGu_3g/s1600/DSC_9085%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Lantern outside the Old Presbytery B&B in Kinsale, Ireland" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lantern outside the Old Presbytery bed and breakfast in Kinsale, Ireland, one of our very favorite B&Bs in Europe.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nf_4IihnBf4/VtWwouqNkDI/AAAAAAAAHiM/VB0rqiTupuw/s1600/DSC_0834%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Winter festivities in St. George's Square in Glasgow, Scotland" border="0" height="424" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nf_4IihnBf4/VtWwouqNkDI/AAAAAAAAHiM/VB0rqiTupuw/s1600/DSC_0834%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Winter festivities in St. George's Square in Glasgow, Scotland" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Winter festivities in St. George's Square in Glasgow, Scotland.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GuAmvB5YeME/VtWwpDgEZeI/AAAAAAAAHiQ/zRj0TvOVXCg/s1600/DSC_0193%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Dolmen portal tomb in the Burren, Ireland" border="0" height="384" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GuAmvB5YeME/VtWwpDgEZeI/AAAAAAAAHiQ/zRj0TvOVXCg/s1600/DSC_0193%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Dolmen portal tomb in the Burren, Ireland" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The dolmen portal tomb in The Burren, Ireland, is a Neolithic masterpiece.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-o9RIbuQUm9U/VtWwoaBJOAI/AAAAAAAAHiI/mBz3lC5T2IM/s1600/DSC_0789.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="View from the Isle of Skye toward mainland Scotland" border="0" height="358" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-o9RIbuQUm9U/VtWwoaBJOAI/AAAAAAAAHiI/mBz3lC5T2IM/s1600/DSC_0789.JPG" title="View from the Isle of Skye toward mainland Scotland" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A view of mainland Scotland from the Isle of Skye.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wryqA3k0Ekk/VtXA9KBlVWI/AAAAAAAAHig/w3vZ9rYU3x0/s1600/DSC_0286%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Entry gate to Edinburgh Castle, Scotland" border="0" height="358" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wryqA3k0Ekk/VtXA9KBlVWI/AAAAAAAAHig/w3vZ9rYU3x0/s1600/DSC_0286%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Entry gate to Edinburgh Castle, Scotland" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The entry gate to Edinburgh Castle in the evening, just before a performance at <a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2014/08/the-royal-edinburgh-military-tattoo.html">the Royal Edinburgh Military Tattoo.</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IqLx-jhHPpM/VtXA_n6BkzI/AAAAAAAAHio/oSY2X-e3IlI/s1600/DSC_7396%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Springtime at the St. Andrews Suspension Bridge in Glasgow, Scotland" border="0" height="426" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IqLx-jhHPpM/VtXA_n6BkzI/AAAAAAAAHio/oSY2X-e3IlI/s1600/DSC_7396%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Springtime at the St. Andrews Suspension Bridge in Glasgow, Scotland" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Springtime at the St. Andrews Suspension Bridge, a pedestrian walkway in Glasgow, Scotland.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EqD7gZjZGJ8/VtXA-Rt8zII/AAAAAAAAHik/kKU2xmcElVw/s1600/DSC_0339%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="A view of Athens from Anafiotika at the base of the Acropolis" border="0" height="384" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EqD7gZjZGJ8/VtXA-Rt8zII/AAAAAAAAHik/kKU2xmcElVw/s1600/DSC_0339%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="A view of Athens from Anafiotika at the base of the Acropolis" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You get expansive views of Athens from the neighborhood of Anafiotika, at the base of the Acropolis.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WWKCOrfR5Iw/VtXGmRy9YmI/AAAAAAAAHjA/c1csFyZ29qc/s1600/DSC_4418%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Highland hairy cow in Kilmartin Glen, Scotland" border="0" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WWKCOrfR5Iw/VtXGmRy9YmI/AAAAAAAAHjA/c1csFyZ29qc/s1600/DSC_4418%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Highland hairy coo in Kilmartin Glen, Scotland" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A fantastic specimen of a Highland hairy cow (a "hairy coo") in Kilmartin Glen, Scotland.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/--q7zBPDrgKg/VtXGlV0ky8I/AAAAAAAAHi8/ypBYbN1Sp7g/s1600/DSC_0341%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="View from the Grand Battery at Stirling Castle toward the William Wallace Monument" border="0" height="426" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/--q7zBPDrgKg/VtXGlV0ky8I/AAAAAAAAHi8/ypBYbN1Sp7g/s1600/DSC_0341%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="View from the Grand Battery at Stirling Castle toward the William Wallace Monument" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View from the Grand Battery of cannons at Stirling Castle toward the William Wallace Monument.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-S6RytGdB_40/VtXGldwUMEI/AAAAAAAAHi4/i029xwsK8Jk/s1600/DSC_8563%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Rock of Cashel in County Tipperary, Ireland" border="0" height="384" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-S6RytGdB_40/VtXGldwUMEI/AAAAAAAAHi4/i029xwsK8Jk/s1600/DSC_8563%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Rock of Cashel in County Tipperary, Ireland" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Rock of Cashel sits on a limestone plug in County Tipperary, Ireland.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eXhn5ViFNw8/VtXIxqHIPOI/AAAAAAAAHjU/cH67IQqbK5s/s1600/DSC_6237%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Cloisters on the University of Glasgow campus" border="0" height="426" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eXhn5ViFNw8/VtXIxqHIPOI/AAAAAAAAHjU/cH67IQqbK5s/s1600/DSC_6237%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Cloisters on the University of Glasgow campus" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cloisters on the campus of the University of Glasgow.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_LvhVKzmFRM/VtXIv_LIjbI/AAAAAAAAHjQ/z5JeKZsHlXU/s1600/DSC_7569%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Bridge on the grounds of Inverary Castle in Argyll, Scotland" border="0" height="384" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_LvhVKzmFRM/VtXIv_LIjbI/AAAAAAAAHjQ/z5JeKZsHlXU/s1600/DSC_7569%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Bridge on the grounds of Inverary Castle in Argyll, Scotland" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A bridge on the grounds of Inverary Castle in Argyll, Scotland.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3Y_eRqJBSg8/VtXIx7ypXhI/AAAAAAAAHjY/N3Gypvq-RRY/s1600/DSC_0440.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="View of Loch Lomond from the island of Inchcailloch" border="0" height="360" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3Y_eRqJBSg8/VtXIx7ypXhI/AAAAAAAAHjY/N3Gypvq-RRY/s1600/DSC_0440.JPG" title="View of Loch Lomond from the island of Inchcailloch" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A gorgeous afternoon on the island of Inchcailloch in Loch Lomond, Scotland.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2015/04/short-photo-recap-of-long-easter-weekend.html" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Pollock House in Glasgow, Scotland" border="0" height="384" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KoWDuFFQLoM/VtXPAIm18mI/AAAAAAAAHjs/Vlg-c-ryn3E/s1600/DSC_5241%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Pollock House in Glasgow, Scotland" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2015/04/short-photo-recap-of-long-easter-weekend.html">We enjoyed an Easter egg hunt at Pollock House</a> in Glasgow, Scotland. </td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fpoWPznTM3Y/VtXO_YuJZEI/AAAAAAAAHjo/wZhViUfulJE/s1600/DSC_0779.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Sheep graze on the golf course on the Isle of Iona" border="0" height="360" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fpoWPznTM3Y/VtXO_YuJZEI/AAAAAAAAHjo/wZhViUfulJE/s1600/DSC_0779.JPG" title="Sheep graze on the golf course on the Isle of Iona" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sheep graze on the <a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2014/11/monday-exposure-seaside-golf-on-isle-of.html">windswept golf course on the Isle of Iona</a>.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dAzC84zxZPs/VtXRWpC7PMI/AAAAAAAAHj8/4_wKqJtxWOo/s1600/DSC_0060.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Urquhart Castle ruins on Loch Ness in Scotland" border="0" height="424" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dAzC84zxZPs/VtXRWpC7PMI/AAAAAAAAHj8/4_wKqJtxWOo/s1600/DSC_0060.JPG" title="Urquhart Castle ruins on Loch Ness in Scotland" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A glimpse of <a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2014/01/a-quick-scouting-trip-north.html">the ruins of Urquhart Castle</a> on <a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2015/07/loch-ness-monster-likely-large-catfish.html">the banks of Loch Ness</a>.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FLsjMxxxVnM/VtXRXj-2UYI/AAAAAAAAHkA/RD3k8KlaAuY/s1600/DSC_2665%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Dugald Stewart Monument and the Old Town of Edinburgh" border="0" height="384" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FLsjMxxxVnM/VtXRXj-2UYI/AAAAAAAAHkA/RD3k8KlaAuY/s1600/DSC_2665%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Dugald Stewart Monument and the Old Town of Edinburgh" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Dugald Stewart Monument, derived from <a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2014/11/monday-exposure-lysicrates-monument.html">the famed Lysicrates Monument in Athens</a>, sits on Calton Hill in Edinburgh.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wXOSk3RdVtk/VtXRWIsKPXI/AAAAAAAAHj4/xtnoNEeFAY8/s1600/DSC_9261%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Drombeg Stone Circle in County Cork, Ireland" border="0" height="426" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wXOSk3RdVtk/VtXRWIsKPXI/AAAAAAAAHj4/xtnoNEeFAY8/s1600/DSC_9261%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Drombeg Stone Circle in County Cork, Ireland" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The magnificently sited Drombeg Stone Circle in County Cork, Ireland.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><b>Did you enjoy those? Here are my favorite family pics of our second year in Scotland:</b></span></b></span><br />
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<a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2016/02/favorite-family-photos-of-our-second.html" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="On the beach on Inchcailloch in Loch Lomond" border="0" height="112" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1U_tTTDW5aQ/VrobDCBVOUI/AAAAAAAAHY8/aUZnQBt7q68/s1600/DSC_0451.JPG" title="On the beach on Inchcailloch in Loch Lomond" width="200" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2016/02/favorite-family-photos-of-our-second.html">Favorite family photos of our second year in Scotland</a></b></span><br />
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<a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2016/02/nearly-favorite-family-photos-of-our.html" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt=" http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2016/02/nearly-favorite-family-photos-of-our.html" border="0" height="111" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wlGI2TkROBw/VrOErsg40OI/AAAAAAAAHUs/m4HQyFzQcjM/s1600/DSC_0733%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Hiking on the Trotternish Peninsula on the Isle of Skye" width="200" /></a><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b> </b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b> </b></span></span><a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2016/02/nearly-favorite-family-photos-of-our.html"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><br />
</b></span></span></a><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b><b><a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2016/02/nearly-favorite-family-photos-of-our.html"><b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span></span></b></a><b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2016/02/nearly-favorite-family-photos-of-our.html">(Nearly) favorite family photos of our <span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">second</span> year in Scotland</a></span></span></b></b></b></span> <br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>Want to see more? Here are the favorites from our first year in Scotland:</b></span><br />
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<a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2014/07/favorite-photos-of-places-we-visited.html" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt=" http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2014/07/favorite-photos-of-places-we-visited.html" border="0" height="132" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mzC3CJrjTiA/U9J7RAagyyI/AAAAAAAAD1E/U5qNsjk8VS0/s1600/DSC_0925.JPG" title="Dryburgh Abbey ruins; Dryburgh, Scotland" width="200" /></a><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://coloringwithoutborders.blogspot.co.uk/2014/07/favorite-photos-of-places-we-visited.html">Favorite photos of places we visited our first year</a></span></span></b><br />
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<a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2014/07/nearly-favorite-photos-of-places-we.html" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt=" http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2014/07/nearly-favorite-photos-of-places-we.html" border="0" height="111" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EA3wbHngIXE/U8VAAm4WTZI/AAAAAAAADso/4jIeE3tONRo/s1600/DSC_0973.JPG" width="200" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://coloringwithoutborders.blogspot.co.uk/2014/07/nearly-favorite-photos-of-places-we.html">(Nearly) favorite photos of places we visited our first year</a></span></b></span><br />
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<a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2014/06/favorite-family-photos-of-our-first.html" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt=" http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2014/06/favorite-family-photos-of-our-first.html" border="0" height="112" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UBY9grM7dOE/U5TLX9YLvTI/AAAAAAAADgQ/5IOpmXdSnbo/s1600/DSC_0369.JPG" width="200" /></a><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></b>
<b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://coloringwithoutborders.blogspot.co.uk/2014/06/favorite-family-photos-of-our-first.html">Favorite family photos of our first year in Scotland</a></span></span></b><br />
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<a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2014/06/nearly-favorite-family-photos-of-our.html" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt=" http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2014/06/nearly-favorite-family-photos-of-our.html" border="0" height="97" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FfFuEEBsODQ/U5XA28lWNmI/AAAAAAAADhI/DWMmxLiq39g/s1600/DSC_0071_2.JPG" width="200" /></a><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2014/06/nearly-favorite-family-photos-of-our.html">(Nearly) favorite family photos of our first year in Scotland</a></span></span></b><br />
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<br />Coloring Without Bordershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00217261486666011245noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5569670220516132426.post-48230741894581978112016-02-26T15:12:00.000+00:002016-02-26T15:12:08.954+00:00Meconium aspiration is a crappy start to lifeThe day my son was born was the worst day of my life. It was his worst day, too.<br />
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Perhaps I should explain. <br />
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Sl-yg3Sr4EA/Vs3GC4TQfxI/AAAAAAAAHdc/AywBQJWa83c/s1600/meconium%2B6%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="In the NICU four days after meconium aspiration syndrome" border="0" height="300" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Sl-yg3Sr4EA/Vs3GC4TQfxI/AAAAAAAAHdc/AywBQJWa83c/s1600/meconium%2B6%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" title="In the NICU four days after meconium aspiration syndrome" width="400" /></a>Let's start with the crap, shall we? Literally. Meconium is a baby's first poop, made up of the things a fetus ingests while still in the womb: amniotic fluid, mucus, epithelial cells, water, and so on. It's not pleasant to look at, to the say the least, typically dark green or brown or dirty yellow. Moreover, meconium is thick and sticky, like a glue paste.<br />
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Imagine breathing all that in and coating your lungs with it. Tiny baby lungs, which have just begun to be put to use outside the womb, are delicate enough. Breathing in mouthfuls of meconium <span class="st" data-hveid="47">—</span> i.e., aspirating it <span class="st" data-hveid="47">— </span>renders the lungs almost immobile. Even if the lungs could move, little or no oxygen can make it through the thick meconium goo into the baby's circulation.<br />
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It's not uncommon for a fetus to poop in utero. Estimates for the number of babies who do so range from 1 in 20, to as many as 1 in 5. Generally, the meconium doesn't cause any problem. Of all the babies who do poop in utero, only about 5% end up with some kind of meconium aspiration.<br />
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And then there are the cases like Jackson. The ones who have <i>severe</i> meconium aspiration syndrome.<br />
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Y'know how nearly everybody has those sweet pictures of a tired mother cradling her newborn child, all smiles and love and happiness? Not us. Jackson was whisked straight over to a waiting team of nurses who immediately assessed him for signs of meconium aspiration. They were ready for him because during labor he had briefly registered fetal distress, sending all the machines into a tizzy. It lasted less than a minute during the multi-hour labor, but the distress likely was when the meconium appeared.<br />
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The nurse team found gobs of meconium in his mouth and throat. They suctioned what they could. But he was barely responsive. His Apgar score, which provides a quick measurement of a baby's health after birth, was a 1 out of 10.<br />
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Zero is dead.<br />
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Soon after birth, the doctors and nurses placed Jackson on a ventilator. The doctors and nurses explained his prognosis was grim and they gently prepared us for the likelihood he might die. It was a very severe case. However, after some pointed encouragement from me, they set about finding specialists and surgeons who could provide him the best possible care. Within an hour a specially-equipped ambulance arrived and ferried Jackson from our hospital to a neonatal intensive care unit (NICU) at the University of North Carolina. We were heartened by this development.<br />
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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://3.bp.blogspot.com/-g3HkOfKfMFw/Vs7_1q7EaKI/AAAAAAAAHdw/uYtjAnwg66g/s1600/meconium%2B2%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="First day on ECMO, with cannulae running into the right side of neck" border="0" height="300" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-g3HkOfKfMFw/Vs7_1q7EaKI/AAAAAAAAHdw/uYtjAnwg66g/s1600/meconium%2B2%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" title="First day on ECMO, with cannulae running into the right side of neck" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First day on ECMO, with cannulae running into his vein and artery at his neck.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
At the new hospital, however, we were again told his situation was dire. The resident who first broke this news to me was a newbie, having just started her residency a few days before. She couldn't conceal that she thought Jackson was going to die. The doctors explained Jackson's best chance would be if they could place him on extracorporeal membrane oxygenation (ECMO). Essentially, ECMO is a heart and lung bypass, with machines siphoning Jackson's blood, adding oxygen to it, and reinserting it into his bloodstream. There were surgeons on staff who had performed an ECMO surgery years ago, though not on a newborn. In the span of a couple of hours, they would need to reacquaint themselves with the procedure and then perform it on an hours-old infant.<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://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0jh_vi8wX1c/Vs8E3eBEsaI/AAAAAAAAHeA/atLPcc9Ot5M/s1600/meconium%2B4%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="The ECMO machinery" border="0" height="400" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0jh_vi8wX1c/Vs8E3eBEsaI/AAAAAAAAHeA/atLPcc9Ot5M/s400/meconium%2B4%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" title="The ECMO machinery" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jackson was enveloped amidst the ECMO machinery.</td></tr>
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Even if they succeeded with placing him on ECMO, his prospects were still tenuous. For several days, technicians would watch him round-the-clock, constantly checking and adjusting the levels of his blood and oxygenation. He was in severe danger of either blood clots or, if the blood got too thin, of strokes. Either could kill him. It was a high-stakes balancing act.<br />
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Furthermore, after ECMO, his prospects were likely dim. Assuming he ever came off ECMO and a ventilator, we had no way of knowing how much the oxygen deprivation affected his brain. There was a decent chance he would be a vegetable, or suffer from debilitating deficits. At minimum, he faced a high likelihood of developmental issues or delays.<br />
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His ECMO surgery, thank the stars, was a success. The NICU team began its vigil, always with at least one technician in the room monitoring and adjusting the machines.<br />
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Day after day, under their watchful eyes, he persisted.<br />
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He prospered.<br />
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Meanwhile, we hovered. Watched the machines. Stroked the tiny bits of baby skin that were left bare, careful never to shift or move him. Although he wasn't in a coma, he was completely sedated. We nevertheless read books to him, chatted with him (okay, soliloquized), sat in the room all day listening to the whirring machines. We bought coffee and donuts and treats and set them outside his room, openly trying to make Jackson a hub for activity and interest for all the doctors and nurses. For me and Kate, time stopped. The outside world essentially disappeared. His battle became our sole focus. All we could do was watch. We were hopeful but nonetheless fearful about the many unknowns of Jackson's, and our, future.<br />
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<table><tbody>
<tr><td><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vBlAmYiEN2E/Vs8WHRSg3rI/AAAAAAAAHeQ/Cyw9cecZdh0/s1600/meconium%2B10%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Off ECMO, now with ventilator and many wires" border="0" height="240" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vBlAmYiEN2E/Vs8WHRSg3rI/AAAAAAAAHeQ/Cyw9cecZdh0/s1600/meconium%2B10%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" title="Off ECMO, now with ventilator and many wires" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On the fourth day, he came off ECMO. But he was still on a ventilator.</td></tr>
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</td><td><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nUQLuSz5LuY/Vs8WHuwIXoI/AAAAAAAAHeU/ZZeBj_rZTGE/s1600/meconium%2B8%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Less puffy" border="0" height="240" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nUQLuSz5LuY/Vs8WHuwIXoI/AAAAAAAAHeU/ZZeBj_rZTGE/s1600/meconium%2B8%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" title="Less puffy" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Less puffy after ECMO, without all the extra fluids.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-msVHTLQZJNg/Vs8WHk8Sg1I/AAAAAAAAHeY/Xh1XJajsiYc/s1600/meconium%2B11%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Many wires for our baby" border="0" height="300" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-msVHTLQZJNg/Vs8WHk8Sg1I/AAAAAAAAHeY/Xh1XJajsiYc/s1600/meconium%2B11%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" title="Many wires for our baby" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Can you believe this was progress? At one point I counted more than 50 wires attached to him.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
All of this was tough on me. As I said, that first day was the worst day of my life. By the time Jackson was on ECMO, we had been up nearly 48 hours. We were on a roller coaster: the joy of his birth followed by his possible demise. We were told by medical staff multiple times to prepare for his death, only to have a short-lived reprieve. Then, when he was finally stable on ECMO, we faced the prospect of a troubled future.<br />
<br />
<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://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TcNRm2ONRSg/VtBBhPg44XI/AAAAAAAAHfE/Zx3I6ySQjVs/s1600/meconium%2B12%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="First family selfie" border="0" height="300" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TcNRm2ONRSg/VtBBhPg44XI/AAAAAAAAHfE/Zx3I6ySQjVs/s1600/meconium%2B12%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" title="First family selfie" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This was our very first family selfie. It was my own first ever selfie, for that matter.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
But I had it easy compared to Kate. She gave birth with no epidural. An hour after birth she was dressed and on her feet, waiting at Jackson's side. An hour later she was in a car headed to another hospital, her newborn tucked away in a special ambulance. She was like the mythical stories of yore, the peasant woman giving birth and then immediately getting back up to work in the fields. Kate met the roller coaster head on, sad but resilient. Although her physical pain paled beside the emotional beating, her sheer endurance was remarkable.<br />
<br />
During his first week in the hospital, we couldn't do hardly anything for him. We tried to find ways to stay involved and connected. Since Jackson obviously couldn't breastfeed yet, Kate pumped milk and froze it. And pumped more milk. And more, and more, and more. The hospital could give him a little of it through a tube into his stomach, but Kate ended up producing so much in the first several weeks that ultimately she was able to donate a large amount to a breast milk clinic for use by other needy families.<br />
<br />
<table><tbody>
<tr><td><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gElJ8-4s0ek/Vs9a4Tf5w1I/AAAAAAAAHeo/qjr9W_Ksg9w/s1600/meconium%2B9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Kate with Jackson" border="0" height="240" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gElJ8-4s0ek/Vs9a4Tf5w1I/AAAAAAAAHeo/qjr9W_Ksg9w/s1600/meconium%2B9.jpg" title="Kate with Jackson" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The only clothing Jackson could wear was socks.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</td><td><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1MtxGbw7Z5I/Vs9a4WenpYI/AAAAAAAAHes/87buWmvLKGs/s1600/meconium%2B13%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Jackson in sunglasses" border="0" height="240" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1MtxGbw7Z5I/Vs9a4WenpYI/AAAAAAAAHes/87buWmvLKGs/s1600/meconium%2B13%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" title="Jackson in sunglasses" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He was still sedated, but we decided to accessorize him with shades.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SlVlsARDXsY/Vs9a4S6JDLI/AAAAAAAAHew/5XwV6IgWrTE/s1600/meconium%2B16.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Rockstar Jackson" border="0" height="300" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SlVlsARDXsY/Vs9a4S6JDLI/AAAAAAAAHew/5XwV6IgWrTE/s1600/meconium%2B16.jpg" title="Rockstar Jackson" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The NICU loved his progress and called him a "rockstar." We found an appropriate onesie.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<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://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SnoOrFH5luc/VtBHYoAwjoI/AAAAAAAAHfU/G3DtDbJf2Os/s1600/meconium%2B14%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="First time Jackson could open his eyes" border="0" height="240" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SnoOrFH5luc/VtBHYoAwjoI/AAAAAAAAHfU/G3DtDbJf2Os/s1600/meconium%2B14%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" title="First time Jackson could open his eyes" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He opened his eyes for the first time on day six.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Finally, by day six, they could reduce Jackson's sedation enough to allow him to wake up and open his eyes. It was the first time he saw the world outside momma's womb, but he couldn't really move or even breathe on his own. Still, what a wonderful feeling for us to finally be able to look into his eyes and smile, as well as to talk and read and laugh to a non-sedated baby.<br />
<br />
On day eight, we had our first chance to hold Jackson. In truth, Kate had had thirty seconds to hold him right after he was born and before he was hooked up to machines, but nothing since then. Early on, I had been frightened my child might be born, live, and die while I would never have had a chance to ever hold him. While that fear faded as the days went on, the nurses were sure to give us a chance to hold our baby as soon as it was feasible.<br />
<br />
<table><tbody>
<tr><td><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0Gq2lI9fg-4/VtBHYm0UD8I/AAAAAAAAHfc/cfSVm1H2a_g/s1600/meconium%2B17%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Nurses handing Jackson to me" border="0" height="240" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0Gq2lI9fg-4/VtBHYm0UD8I/AAAAAAAAHfc/cfSVm1H2a_g/s1600/meconium%2B17%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" title="Nurses handing Jackson to me" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It took several nurses to get Jackson and all his wires onto my lap.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</td><td><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6KJoT5Yx9nU/VtBHYoHkwDI/AAAAAAAAHfY/oNug0uW7A2k/s1600/meconium%2B18%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="First time holding Jackson" border="0" height="239" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6KJoT5Yx9nU/VtBHYoHkwDI/AAAAAAAAHfY/oNug0uW7A2k/s1600/meconium%2B18%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" title="First time holding Jackson" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I could finally hold Jackson! He was still hooked up to a ventilator.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table><tbody>
<tr><td><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SNV52bSTGsQ/VtBKFQOiscI/AAAAAAAAHfw/0m9pk8fplQ8/s1600/meconium%2B19%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Kate gets to hold Jackson" border="0" height="240" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SNV52bSTGsQ/VtBKFQOiscI/AAAAAAAAHfw/0m9pk8fplQ8/s1600/meconium%2B19%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" title="Kate gets to hold Jackson" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kate got her first real chance to hold her baby.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</td><td><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yNEC4CyxNsw/VtBKFUzw9PI/AAAAAAAAHfo/FaDuTnF6a2E/s1600/meconium%2B20%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Grandparents admire" border="0" height="240" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yNEC4CyxNsw/VtBKFUzw9PI/AAAAAAAAHfo/FaDuTnF6a2E/s1600/meconium%2B20%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" title="Grandparents admire" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grammar, Nana, and Grampa Bill got to watch but not yet hold him.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wTUKBUi62JY/VtBKFWMxcmI/AAAAAAAAHfs/MNzff4lfn5U/s1600/meconium%2B21%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Second family selfie" border="0" height="480" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wTUKBUi62JY/VtBKFWMxcmI/AAAAAAAAHfs/MNzff4lfn5U/s1600/meconium%2B21%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" title="Second family selfie" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our second family selfie.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<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://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZQZgL8bNGTI/VtBPxI_br5I/AAAAAAAAHgI/Q_YNBa-Suxg/s1600/meconium%2B22%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Cyborg baby on standy" border="0" height="240" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZQZgL8bNGTI/VtBPxI_br5I/AAAAAAAAHgI/Q_YNBa-Suxg/s1600/meconium%2B22%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" title="Cyborg baby on standby" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our cyborg baby on standby.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
After day eight, the pace of changes and improvement increased mightily. On day nine, following some debate, the NICU team decided to take Jackson off his ventilator. They were taking an aggressive approach with him overall, to which he responded well. Although they weren't certain his lungs were ready to breathe on their own, they decided that if he struggled they could simply reinsert the ventilator. He did struggle immediately, and at one point we heard the machines make the dreaded flatline sound. (For anyone who might have the chance to be present during a family member's medical procedure, I'd strongly advise against it. They offered, we accepted, and I wish we hadn't.) But Jackson's lungs did lurch into use, and he never again needed to be put back on the ventilator.<br />
<span class="st" data-hveid="47"><br /></span>
<span class="st" data-hveid="47">When he had two solid days of breathing, the NICU team determined that Jackson could graduate from intensive care to the children's wing of the hospital. He still had an oxygen tube in his nose, which gradually was weaned from all day to just at night.</span><br />
<br />
<table><tbody>
<tr><td><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ML3Iw000Ehk/VtBPxO5udoI/AAAAAAAAHgE/xh88qk6BoD0/s1600/meconium%2B23%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="First day off a ventilator" border="0" height="240" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ML3Iw000Ehk/VtBPxO5udoI/AAAAAAAAHgE/xh88qk6BoD0/s1600/meconium%2B23%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" title="First day off a ventilator" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jackson's first day off the ventilator, gazing at mommy and Grammar.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</td><td><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GUG9LLKNhBM/VtBPxJkub3I/AAAAAAAAHgA/xksOZjYCCaQ/s1600/meconium%2B24%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Our new room in the children's wing of the hospital" border="0" height="240" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GUG9LLKNhBM/VtBPxJkub3I/AAAAAAAAHgA/xksOZjYCCaQ/s1600/meconium%2B24%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" title="Our new room in the children's wing of the hospital" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our new room in the children's wing, with bed for mom and dad.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table><tbody>
<tr><td><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MTQ2uK0BAnQ/VtBSIEnP8bI/AAAAAAAAHgY/qSv1gvHmEXs/s1600/meconium%2B25%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Quiet and peaceful outside the NICU" border="0" height="240" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MTQ2uK0BAnQ/VtBSIEnP8bI/AAAAAAAAHgY/qSv1gvHmEXs/s1600/meconium%2B25%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" title="Quiet and peaceful outside the NICU" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">So much quieter and more restful out of the NICU.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</td><td><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Q4ul3R7uWVg/VtBSIAwn_RI/AAAAAAAAHgU/HEXZ3V0O1-A/s1600/meconium%2B32%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Again with shades" border="0" height="240" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Q4ul3R7uWVg/VtBSIAwn_RI/AAAAAAAAHgU/HEXZ3V0O1-A/s1600/meconium%2B32%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" title="Again with shades" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He was a great success story, and drawing admirers. Shades for style.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<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://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IYzl524Wb3Q/VtBWSCdvKGI/AAAAAAAAHgo/YhUwTz4qbnc/s1600/meconium%2B27%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="On mommy's lap" border="0" height="300" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IYzl524Wb3Q/VtBWSCdvKGI/AAAAAAAAHgo/YhUwTz4qbnc/s1600/meconium%2B27%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" title="On mommy's lap" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Still some wires attached, but so much more interactive.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Once he was breathing normally, it was time to start breastfeeding. This was more challenging than it would have been had he had a typical post-birth introduction, but all things considered not too big a struggle. By this point Kate was a mass-producer of milk and Jackson was just learning to have an appetite, so she continued to pump large quantities for the milk bank.<br />
<br />
We were also now able to take Jackson out of the crib and handle him delicately, but like a typical infant. We now had to do things such as change his diapers, where before the nurses in the NICU handled all those tasks. We could play and take walks around the halls.<br />
<br />
Day by day, his breathing and oxygen saturation levels improved. And along with those things his energy and interaction levels boomed, too.<br />
<br />
<table><tbody>
<tr><td><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-01rSUBjtEhM/VtBWSCQLSUI/AAAAAAAAHgk/GKWURD71J5o/s1600/meconium%2B26%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Mom and baby" border="0" height="240" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-01rSUBjtEhM/VtBWSCQLSUI/AAAAAAAAHgk/GKWURD71J5o/s1600/meconium%2B26%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" title="Mom and baby" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">About to begin a new life challenge: breastfeeding.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</td><td><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uYOhUm1XHj4/VtBWSC_TiFI/AAAAAAAAHgs/fWCEsvn3ARg/s1600/meconium%2B31%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Breastfeeding is exhausting" border="0" height="240" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uYOhUm1XHj4/VtBWSC_TiFI/AAAAAAAAHgs/fWCEsvn3ARg/s1600/meconium%2B31%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" title="Breastfeeding is exhausting" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Breastfeeding is exhausting.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fC48mkSBTTE/VtBYn5msWbI/AAAAAAAAHg4/bqf3vG-WmsQ/s1600/meconium%2B35%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Weighed on a gram scale after every feeding" border="0" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fC48mkSBTTE/VtBYn5msWbI/AAAAAAAAHg4/bqf3vG-WmsQ/s1600/meconium%2B35%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" title="Weighed on a gram scale after every feeding" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At birth he weighed about 8.5 pounds, but by the time he was out of the NICU he had dropped to around 6 pounds, losing about 30% of his weight in ten days. To make sure he was on track with breastfeeding, we weighed and tracked his gains after every meal.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fa3HY9hgGdM/VtBYnxoWClI/AAAAAAAAHg8/8n4dHyrIzpw/s1600/meconium%2B37%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Free from the oxygen tube" border="0" height="300" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fa3HY9hgGdM/VtBYnxoWClI/AAAAAAAAHg8/8n4dHyrIzpw/s1600/meconium%2B37%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" title="Free from the oxygen tube" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eventually, he spent most of his day without an oxygen tube in his nose (though with tape on his face).</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/--Sv-UQLamgs/VtBYoH99y9I/AAAAAAAAHhA/SS56dOr1xN8/s1600/meconium%2B34.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="First nap outside of the crib" border="0" height="480" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/--Sv-UQLamgs/VtBYoH99y9I/AAAAAAAAHhA/SS56dOr1xN8/s1600/meconium%2B34.jpg" title="First nap outside of the crib" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jackson's first nap outside of the crib. Still with oxygen while sleeping, however.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The last few days in the hospital came with a sense of relief. Jackson was improved to the point of nearly being able to go home. Nonetheless, we still had the tedium of waiting around the hospital all day. At night we slept in his room, regularly awakened by nurses' checks as well as by Jackson's oxygen machines, which beeped furiously every time his oxygen saturation (his "sats") dropped below 90%. We slept fitfully.<br />
<br />
<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://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IMn_foT8Ogs/VtBflW9kKSI/AAAAAAAAHhc/lcjM_nyH44g/s1600/meconium%2B40%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Darth Vader onesie" border="0" height="300" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IMn_foT8Ogs/VtBflW9kKSI/AAAAAAAAHhc/lcjM_nyH44g/s1600/meconium%2B40%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" title="Darth Vader onesie" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Darth Vader and Jackson both had their share of respiratory issues.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
As another side effect of his time on ECMO and a ventilator, Jackson lost his voice for a couple of weeks. He would cry (like any other infant), but no sound would come out. He would just silently mouth his distress and shed tears. We rooted for him to regain his voice, though of course who really wants to hear a crying baby? We did. But not too much, dear boy!<br />
<br />
Finally, by day 21, Jackson could sleep at night and regularly keep up his oxygen sats. We were able to go home. This was exciting but also a little scary. We were safely cocooned within the hospital, medical staff at the ready if Jackson had any challenges breathing. He was coming home with an oxygen tank and a machine to measure his saturation levels, which ultimately he used at night for nine months. Think it's hard to get a normal baby to sleep peacefully through the night? Try adding wires taped to his face and the beeps of a machine if he shifts or doesn't take a full breath. Leaving the hospital meant losing security and comfort in case of trouble.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2y3B0XCiBrY/VtBfWjLaKmI/AAAAAAAAHhQ/7TObHspEuE4/s1600/meconium%2B41%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="In the car seat, ready to go home" border="0" height="300" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2y3B0XCiBrY/VtBfWjLaKmI/AAAAAAAAHhQ/7TObHspEuE4/s400/meconium%2B41%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" title="In the car seat, ready to go home" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At last in the car seat, ready to head home for the very first time.</td></tr>
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But of course we wanted and needed to take him home. At last!<br />
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By the end of his three weeks in the hospital, Jackson had gone from life-threatening meconium aspiration syndrome to nearly complete health. We had been on the brink of losing him several times, and now had an apparently normal and mostly healthy baby. For awhile we met regularly with a pulmonologist who assessed Jackson's breathing, but he steadily improved to the point where we no longer needed the oxygen tank at any time, though we kept it nearby in case of some unforeseen emergency.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-geOXk4mUZ08/VtBfWpMqMpI/AAAAAAAAHhY/fAkz9oHgB3M/s1600/meconium%2B45%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="At home with the baby" border="0" height="300" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-geOXk4mUZ08/VtBfWpMqMpI/AAAAAAAAHhY/fAkz9oHgB3M/s1600/meconium%2B45%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" title="At home with the baby" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Finally, home with the <span class="st"><i>bebé</i>.</span></td></tr>
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His developmental milestones were checked regularly, as well. Besides the normal meetings with pediatricians, he was enrolled in a special infant care clinic. Every few months several experts measured whether he was meeting his milestones, and he was on track every time. In fact, by the time he was 20 months he was exceeding the milestones and was actually ahead of the curve. He did so well they eventually told us he no longer needed to have his development tracked.<br />
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No one could have predicted this kind of result. At the beginning it wasn't certain if he'd survive, and if he did, the question became what problems would he have. So far, as we approach his fifth birthday, there have been none. At all. Quite simply, an amazing turnaround.<br />
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I'm still watchful, and <a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2016/01/in-england-school-starts-at-age-4.html">now that he's been thrust into school in England</a> we have more developmental milestones to track. <br />
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As next week approaches we're staring down the due date for baby boy #2. I've been <strike>reflecting</strike> <strike>rehashing</strike> reliving the nightmare, wondering why I'm willing to go through having another. Jackson's story turned out to have a very happy ending. But what if the new lil' scribbler's path doesn't?<br />
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I'm excited and terrified. Rationally, I know there's almost no chance the lil' scribbler will have meconium aspiration. Nor is there much chance we'll have any complications. Nevertheless, I can't banish all my worries. I'm a planner by nature, and I simply have no control or plan that I can exert.<br />
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My excitement is inescapably tinged with trepidation.<br />
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Deep breaths and embrace the wonder of childbirth. Deep breaths. Deep breaths.<br />
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<br />Coloring Without Bordershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00217261486666011245noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5569670220516132426.post-61763860539453002722016-02-18T17:39:00.000+00:002016-02-18T17:39:42.508+00:00Favorite family photos of our second year in ScotlandHere's a baker's dozen of my favorite family photos from our second year in Scotland.<br />
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Like last year, many of these were selected because of their composition, or colors, or mood, though a couple were just simply cute and I couldn't resist. Unlike last year, I've expanded my subjects beyond just family to include other folks, though that's a bit more apparent in the earlier post of my <a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2016/02/nearly-favorite-family-photos-of-our.html"><i>nearly</i> favorite family photos of our second year in Scotland</a>.<br />
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Remember, you can click on the photos to scroll through them in larger size, though you won't get the captions that way.<br />
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A couple of the pics below make me giggle. Every time.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1U_tTTDW5aQ/VrobDCBVOUI/AAAAAAAAHY8/aUZnQBt7q68/s1600/DSC_0451.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="On the beach on Inchcailloch in Loch Lomond" border="0" height="360" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1U_tTTDW5aQ/VrobDCBVOUI/AAAAAAAAHY8/aUZnQBt7q68/s1600/DSC_0451.JPG" title="On the beach on Inchcailloch in Loch Lomond" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A mid-hike break to play in the sand on the island of Inchcailloch, in the middle of Loch Lomond.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-HTAgyN0BvfU/VsMee5RWfpI/AAAAAAAAHaE/PouLij1rhcM/s1600/DSC_1178%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Soldiers touch toes at Athen's Tomb of the Unknown Soldier" border="0" height="456" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-HTAgyN0BvfU/VsMee5RWfpI/AAAAAAAAHaE/PouLij1rhcM/s1600/DSC_1178%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Soldiers touch toes at Athen's Tomb of the Unknown Soldier" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The changing of the guard at Athen's Tomb of the Unknown Soldiers involves a lot of high-kicking and theatrical stances. I admit this pose cracks me up. It has a Monty Python-esque quality, especially with those faces.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZJXMcadLJUA/VsMeemo6FcI/AAAAAAAAHaA/YF4TgeZLVFo/s1600/DSC_1214%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Rosalie in her Burberry rain coat" border="0" height="424" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZJXMcadLJUA/VsMeemo6FcI/AAAAAAAAHaA/YF4TgeZLVFo/s1600/DSC_1214%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Rosalie in her Burberry coat" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My niece, Rosalie, in her Burberry rain coat.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4JgMfPkJPVY/VsMgOJ6HyoI/AAAAAAAAHaQ/H86v4NXpK4w/s1600/DSC_1349%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Looking up the staircase of Charles Rennie Mackintosh's Lighthouse in Glasgow" border="0" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4JgMfPkJPVY/VsMgOJ6HyoI/AAAAAAAAHaQ/H86v4NXpK4w/s1600/DSC_1349%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" title="Looking up the staircase of Charles Rennie Mackintosh's Lighthouse in Glasgow" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kate and I explored The Lighthouse, by Charles Rennie Mackintosh, in Glasgow. Our friend and fellow expat, Katy, came along, too.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zs8tuJmHJKw/VsMgPB6C3II/AAAAAAAAHaU/CYHUVel-f-Y/s1600/DSC_0193%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Grampa Bill and Jackson" border="0" height="425" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zs8tuJmHJKw/VsMgPB6C3II/AAAAAAAAHaU/CYHUVel-f-Y/s1600/DSC_0193%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Grampa Bill and Jackson" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grampa Bill hefts Jackson during our visit back to North Carolina.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ctfYzcoVi-M/VsMiScdSI9I/AAAAAAAAHak/OETEAL1VWc0/s1600/DSC_4148%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Kate gazes at the Crinan Canal in Scotland" border="0" height="426" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ctfYzcoVi-M/VsMiScdSI9I/AAAAAAAAHak/OETEAL1VWc0/s1600/DSC_4148%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Kate gazes at the Crinan Canal in Scotland" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kate gazing at the Crinan Canal in Argyll and Bute, Scotland.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-baOG7vIolz0/VsM1rHGnM-I/AAAAAAAAHa4/dcB3uWUqh7o/s1600/IMG_3149%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="On the ski lift" border="0" height="384" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-baOG7vIolz0/VsM1rHGnM-I/AAAAAAAAHa4/dcB3uWUqh7o/s1600/IMG_3149%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="On the ski lift" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Caught this shot on my ancient iPhone while skiing in Colorado.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nRwel1cXYNw/VsM1q4EVBdI/AAAAAAAAHa0/w_4gz-F3gaM/s1600/DSC_2243%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Snacking on digestives" border="0" height="384" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nRwel1cXYNw/VsM1q4EVBdI/AAAAAAAAHa0/w_4gz-F3gaM/s1600/DSC_2243%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Snacking on digestives" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kate snacked on some digestives and enjoyed the view of the Trossachs in Scotland.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-H6LXf5NJ8tE/VsM3w1Pfr4I/AAAAAAAAHbI/JOQS9EyYwSA/s1600/DSC_5246%2B-%2BVersion%2B3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Exploring a tunnel on the grounds of Pollock House in Glasgow" border="0" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-H6LXf5NJ8tE/VsM3w1Pfr4I/AAAAAAAAHbI/JOQS9EyYwSA/s1600/DSC_5246%2B-%2BVersion%2B3.JPG" title="Exploring a tunnel on the grounds of Pollock House in Glasgow" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jackson delves, and then emerges, from a tunnel on the grounds of Pollock House in Glasgow.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xpbrbhbaX7g/VsM3wHrvtuI/AAAAAAAAHbE/KJHuVrbFVio/s1600/DSC_0054.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Rugby sevens at the 2014 Commonwealth Games" border="0" height="360" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xpbrbhbaX7g/VsM3wHrvtuI/AAAAAAAAHbE/KJHuVrbFVio/s1600/DSC_0054.JPG" title="Rubgy sevens at the 2014 Commonwealth Games" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Almost</i> a tackle during <a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2014/07/a-peek-at-our-commonwealth-games.html">a rugby sevens match at the 2014 Commonwealth Games</a>.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SBU2eIr8k_0/VsM6Lcc-kmI/AAAAAAAAHbU/_QC6tY856iQ/s1600/IMG_0041_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Jack on a hike in the Quirain on the Isle of Skye" border="0" height="640" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SBU2eIr8k_0/VsM6Lcc-kmI/AAAAAAAAHbU/_QC6tY856iQ/s1600/IMG_0041_2.jpg" title="Jack on a hike in the Quiraing on the Isle of Skye" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Credit for the snapshot goes to Kate during our hike in the Quiraing on the Isle of Skye. This one gives me the giggles.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZP_kL2eoU6Q/VsM6LdUUirI/AAAAAAAAHbY/2LPwOGm7FKQ/s1600/DSC_0724%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Family photo at a B&B on the Isle of Iona" border="0" height="456" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZP_kL2eoU6Q/VsM6LdUUirI/AAAAAAAAHbY/2LPwOGm7FKQ/s1600/DSC_0724%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Family photo at a B&B on the Isle of Iona" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An impromptu family pic at our B&B on the Isle of Iona, before heading out to explore.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ipPaWXMCab8/VsM6L2JSJ5I/AAAAAAAAHbc/DYdrH5RTn58/s1600/IMG_2237.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ipPaWXMCab8/VsM6L2JSJ5I/AAAAAAAAHbc/DYdrH5RTn58/s1600/IMG_2237.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An amazing day on Lunga, part of the Treshnish Isles archipelago. This is one of my all-time favorite family photos.</td></tr>
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<br />
It took a great deal of deliberation to decide which photos made the cut for this baker's dozen, and which ones were only <a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2016/02/nearly-favorite-family-photos-of-our.html"><i>nearly</i> favorite family photos of our second year in Scotland</a>. Oh, the agony. And now I'm second-guessing one or two.<br />
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How'd I do? Did I pick the right ones? Or were some of the nearly favorites better than these?<br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Here are the nigh on, almost, nearly favorite family pics of our second year in Scotland:</b></span></b></span><br />
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<a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2016/02/nearly-favorite-family-photos-of-our.html" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt=" http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2016/02/nearly-favorite-family-photos-of-our.html" border="0" height="111" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wlGI2TkROBw/VrOErsg40OI/AAAAAAAAHUs/m4HQyFzQcjM/s1600/DSC_0733%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Hiking on the Trotternish Peninsula on the Isle of Skye" width="200" /></a><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b> </b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b> </b></span></span><a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2016/02/nearly-favorite-family-photos-of-our.html"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><br />
</b></span></span></a><span style="font-size: small;"><b><b><a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2016/02/nearly-favorite-family-photos-of-our.html"><b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></span></b></a><b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2016/02/nearly-favorite-family-photos-of-our.html">(Nearly) favorite family photos of our <span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">second</span> year in Scotland</a></span></span></b></b></b></span> <br />
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Want to see more? Here are the favorites from our first year in Scotland:</b></span><br />
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<a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2014/07/favorite-photos-of-places-we-visited.html" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt=" http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2014/07/favorite-photos-of-places-we-visited.html" border="0" height="132" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mzC3CJrjTiA/U9J7RAagyyI/AAAAAAAAD1E/U5qNsjk8VS0/s1600/DSC_0925.JPG" title="Dryburgh Abbey ruins; Dryburgh, Scotland" width="200" /></a><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="http://coloringwithoutborders.blogspot.co.uk/2014/07/favorite-photos-of-places-we-visited.html">Favorite photos of places we visited our first year</a></span></span></b><br />
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<a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2014/07/nearly-favorite-photos-of-places-we.html" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt=" http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2014/07/nearly-favorite-photos-of-places-we.html" border="0" height="111" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EA3wbHngIXE/U8VAAm4WTZI/AAAAAAAADso/4jIeE3tONRo/s1600/DSC_0973.JPG" width="200" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="http://coloringwithoutborders.blogspot.co.uk/2014/07/nearly-favorite-photos-of-places-we.html">(Nearly) favorite photos of places we visited our first year</a></span></b></span><br />
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<a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2014/06/favorite-family-photos-of-our-first.html" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt=" http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2014/06/favorite-family-photos-of-our-first.html" border="0" height="112" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UBY9grM7dOE/U5TLX9YLvTI/AAAAAAAADgQ/5IOpmXdSnbo/s1600/DSC_0369.JPG" width="200" /></a><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></b>
<b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="http://coloringwithoutborders.blogspot.co.uk/2014/06/favorite-family-photos-of-our-first.html">Favorite family photos of our first year in Scotland</a></span></span></b><br />
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<a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2014/06/nearly-favorite-family-photos-of-our.html" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt=" http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2014/06/nearly-favorite-family-photos-of-our.html" border="0" height="97" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FfFuEEBsODQ/U5XA28lWNmI/AAAAAAAADhI/DWMmxLiq39g/s1600/DSC_0071_2.JPG" width="200" /></a><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2014/06/nearly-favorite-family-photos-of-our.html">(Nearly) favorite family photos of our first year in Scotland</a></span></span></b><br />
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<br />Coloring Without Bordershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00217261486666011245noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5569670220516132426.post-19969556886110462382016-02-16T12:26:00.000+00:002016-02-16T12:26:30.956+00:00Farewell to EllLast week we had to euthanize Ellington, our cat.<br />
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Ell was with us for more than 16 years, almost as long as we've been married. We had rescued him from a cat hoarder when he was still a kitten, along with his grey/white brother, Montgomery. Actually, we <i>think</i> Monty was his brother, but there were so many kittens in the hoarder house we could never be certain. We called them brothers.<br />
<br />
More importantly, we called them <i>family</i>. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iekAy_XTYP0/VroVtSoST0I/AAAAAAAAHYs/uP5jZRH2Sgo/s1600/DSC_6306%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Ellington with his boy" border="0" height="426" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iekAy_XTYP0/VroVtSoST0I/AAAAAAAAHYs/uP5jZRH2Sgo/s1600/DSC_6306%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Ellington with his boy" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ellington would endure anything and everything from his boy, Jackson.</td></tr>
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Ours is house that loves its animals. I think about our dog almost every day, <a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2014/11/mattie-in-scotland.html">and she passed away in October 2014</a>. Losing her still stings.<br />
<br />
Of all our critters, Ellington was the constant. He lived with us in Alexandria, Virginia; then Durham, North Carolina; Jacksonville, Florida; Holly Springs, N.C.; Raleigh, N.C.; Glasgow, Scotland; and now Bristol, England. Other pets have come and gone, with Ell enduring. <br />
<br />
A couple of years ago I wrote a popular post about Ellington <span class="st" data-hveid="50">—</span> <a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2014/04/a-boy-and-his-cat.html">A boy and his cat</a> <span class="st" data-hveid="50">— which described his stubbornness, his fierceness toward dogs, and his apparently limitless patience with our toddler. I noted he had mellowed as he aged, and that's a trend which continued in the last years of his life. Our friends in Scotland simply didn't believe that Ell, who appeared so meek and mild, would go on a rampage against a dog. So they decided to experiment with him, using their own dogs as <strike>bait</strike> stimuli.</span><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://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EZm86JkOKSk/Vr3V_F-7NnI/AAAAAAAAHZQ/DCOoBTxJ26c/s1600/Ellington%2Band%2BSweet%2BPea.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Ellington with a neighbor dog" border="0" height="240" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EZm86JkOKSk/Vr3V_F-7NnI/AAAAAAAAHZQ/DCOoBTxJ26c/s1600/Ellington%2Band%2BSweet%2BPea.jpg" title="Ellington with a neighbor dog" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ellington cuddled on our friend's lap with her dog. My mind was blown.</td></tr>
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<span class="st" data-hveid="50">We told them they were crazy.</span><br />
<span class="st" data-hveid="50"><br /></span>
<span class="st" data-hveid="50">We were wrong. They were right.</span><br />
<br />
<span class="st" data-hveid="50">Not only did Ellington not attack, he didn't mind the dogs at all. In fact, he seemed to <i>embrace</i> their presence, greeting them, sniffing noses, and one time even rubbing himself up against them. Huh? Did he miss Mattie? Was he merely older, kinder, gentler, calmer, saner? Was he so lonely as the only remaining critter that any animal became a point of curiosity instead of fodder for an attack?</span><br />
<br />
Ellington was a fully drawn character in our lives. And not a static one, but a <i>dramatis person</i><span class="st" data-hveid="44"><i>æ</i></span> with a dynamic character arc from kittenhood to old age.<br />
<br />
He's gone now.<br />
<br />
Cancerous masses throughout his abdomen grew quickly, as far as we know. We'd been managing his late-onset diabetes for a couple of years, with monthly and bi-monthly checkups to check his insulin levels and other vitals. But then, a week after his latest checkup, he stopped eating his regular food. We tempted him with canned food and chicken broth and tuna juice. After a few days, even those were no longer enticing. Where he had been vibrant and present, loving and needy, vocal and <i>alive</i>, in his last couple of days he turned listless and weak. We didn't know of the cancer (yet) but we could tell the end was near. He was shutting himself down. Euthanizing became the only humane option.<br />
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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://3.bp.blogspot.com/-nlJ0vwG9r0A/VsMJpNA6Z9I/AAAAAAAAHZs/6E0p6oN8SWQ/s1600/IMG_2803%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Jackson embraces Ellington" border="0" height="235" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-nlJ0vwG9r0A/VsMJpNA6Z9I/AAAAAAAAHZs/6E0p6oN8SWQ/s1600/IMG_2803%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Jackson embraces Ellington" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yet another toddler embrace.</td></tr>
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Our house is empty of critters. Sixteen+ years of bowls to fill, dogs to walk, litterboxes to clean, and suddenly the silence and stillness loom.<br />
<br />
It's yet another change in a year of big changes.<br />
<br />
We're sad, but not heartbroken. Where it seemed Mattie had been taken too soon, Ellington's sixteen good years were longer than you can expect for a cat. His end was foreseeable, though I wish I could have spared him his last week.<br />
<br />
Whenever we lose someone <span class="st" data-hveid="50">— person, dog, cat, and so on </span><span class="st" data-hveid="50">— I'm always drawn back to an </span><i><span data-dobid="hdw">idée fixe</span></i><span data-dobid="hdw">: life is short, so do what you can to make the most of it. Ellington lived his own zany life, chirping instead of meowing, attacking when he should have been fleeing, stubborn to the end. But he also learned and adapted (albeit slowly). He was a strikingly different cat at sixteen than he was in his prime, viewing and interacting with his world in new ways. Children and dogs became playmates instead of antagonists; he expanded his sphere to let them love him. Ellington's unconventional persona enriched all of our lives.</span><br />
<br />
<span data-dobid="hdw">So I'm reminded: color outside the lines. Seize the day. Make it meaningful, memorable, and joyous.</span><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-froWrRJtOww/VsMJFVxD58I/AAAAAAAAHZo/_YPt3emkwFI/s1600/IMG_3562%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Ellington at rest" border="0" height="426" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-froWrRJtOww/VsMJFVxD58I/AAAAAAAAHZo/_YPt3emkwFI/s1600/IMG_3562%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Ellington at rest" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Farewell, Ell.</td></tr>
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Coloring Without Bordershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00217261486666011245noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5569670220516132426.post-3935863430713143312016-02-05T17:17:00.000+00:002016-02-05T17:17:18.798+00:00(Nearly) favorite family photos of our second year in ScotlandChoosing just a few from thousands and thousands of photos is a blessing and a curse. So many memories to reexamine; too many to share them all.<br />
<br />
From more than 20,000 photos during our second year <span class="st" data-hveid="50">— the capacity of digital cameras and memory cards are a blessing and curse, too </span><span class="st" data-hveid="50">— I compiled a few hundred favorites, and then trimmed and shaved and pared to a few dozen. Some good ones simply didn't make the cut.</span><br />
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Of course, this was not a fast selection process for me. You might be thinking I did pretty well, narrowing down the photos from the previous year by early February. And that <i>would</i> be good, if only these photos were from 2015. Actually, they're from June 2014 to June 2015, our second (non-calendar) year in Scotland. Yep, it actually took me seven months to get around to these.<br />
<br />
Anyone wanna lay odds on how long it takes me to compile our third year photos? <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wlGI2TkROBw/VrOErsg40OI/AAAAAAAAHUs/m4HQyFzQcjM/s1600/DSC_0733%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Hiking on the Trotternish Peninsula on the Isle of Skye" border="0" height="358" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wlGI2TkROBw/VrOErsg40OI/AAAAAAAAHUs/m4HQyFzQcjM/s1600/DSC_0733%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Hiking on the Trotternish Peninsula on the Isle of Skye" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hiking is one of our favorite activities, though it's more challenging when encumbered by a toddler. Here, Kate and Jackson enjoy the view on the Trotternish Peninsula on the Isle of Skye.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yTKWO6vQ6w4/VrSOs77DIII/AAAAAAAAHVE/K2fOjFYxDDQ/s1600/DSC_0251.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="On the beach in St. Andrews, Scotland" border="0" height="360" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yTKWO6vQ6w4/VrSOs77DIII/AAAAAAAAHVE/K2fOjFYxDDQ/s1600/DSC_0251.JPG" title="On the beach in St. Andrews, Scotland" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On the beach in St. Andrews, during one of <a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2015/07/playing-on-old-course-at-st-andrews.html">five trips we made to the fantastic city</a> during our first two years in Scotland.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GT2NmZFAsU8/VrSNqedsDpI/AAAAAAAAHU8/RqtuZAeZy9c/s1600/DSC_6547%2B-%2BVersion%2B3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Face painting" border="0" height="265" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GT2NmZFAsU8/VrSNqedsDpI/AAAAAAAAHU8/RqtuZAeZy9c/s1600/DSC_6547%2B-%2BVersion%2B3.JPG" title="Face painting" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It's an alligator, but Jack decided it was a dinosaur. Because toddler.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-51Y4o4vo7H4/VrSRiWXaTBI/AAAAAAAAHVQ/tkLlU37UPp0/s1600/DSC_0336%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Narrow lanes of Anafiotike in Athens, Greece" border="0" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-51Y4o4vo7H4/VrSRiWXaTBI/AAAAAAAAHVQ/tkLlU37UPp0/s1600/DSC_0336%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Narrow lanes of Anafiotika in Athens, Greece" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kate and Jackson exploring the narrow lanes of Anafiotika, at the base of the Acropolis in Athens, Greece.</td></tr>
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As you might expect, Kate and Jackson get the bulk of my attention when I'm behind the lens. Actually, only if they're agreeable, or if I catch them unawares.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hqF-US7qPMs/VrSWsN17UaI/AAAAAAAAHVg/CqWqozg4e8c/s1600/IMG_3122%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Kate and Jackson skiing" border="0" height="400" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hqF-US7qPMs/VrSWsN17UaI/AAAAAAAAHVg/CqWqozg4e8c/s1600/IMG_3122%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Kate and Jackson skiing" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">While visiting Kate's family in Colorado, Jackson got his very first chance to ski.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ieT7ulGH-Oc/VrSWtZPhTyI/AAAAAAAAHVk/X8cp78YI3Us/s1600/DSC_4773%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Resting in Kilmartin Glen" border="0" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ieT7ulGH-Oc/VrSWtZPhTyI/AAAAAAAAHVk/X8cp78YI3Us/s1600/DSC_4773%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Resting in Kilmartin Glen" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Taking a breather while exploring the prehistoric sites in Kilmartin Glen, Scotland.</td></tr>
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<tr><td><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wU-hl_fIl-w/VrSZd2-wwzI/AAAAAAAAHV0/9geqFdCpZwA/s1600/DSC_0477%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="At the Edinburgh Zoo" border="0" height="213" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wU-hl_fIl-w/VrSZd2-wwzI/AAAAAAAAHV0/9geqFdCpZwA/s1600/DSC_0477%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="At the Edinburgh Zoo" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We watched some monkeys groom each other at Edinburgh Zoo . . .</td></tr>
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</td><td><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://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Cf6cVMlNrfs/VrSZdiRNZTI/AAAAAAAAHVw/RDIxocX-fHg/s1600/DSC_0478%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Mock bug-eating at the zoo" border="0" height="213" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Cf6cVMlNrfs/VrSZdiRNZTI/AAAAAAAAHVw/RDIxocX-fHg/s1600/DSC_0478%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Mock bug-eating at the zoo" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">. . . so Jackson had to groom and eat the bugs in Kate's hair.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-71crS_qzcQ8/VrScsTGUcjI/AAAAAAAAHWE/IUsutjir9z8/s1600/DSC_2454%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Baking cookies" border="0" height="384" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-71crS_qzcQ8/VrScsTGUcjI/AAAAAAAAHWE/IUsutjir9z8/s1600/DSC_2454%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Baking cookies" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Baking cookies on Valentine's Day. Could I have made this more like a Betty Crocker advertisement?</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RRgmn02LVi4/VrScsJkqtgI/AAAAAAAAHWA/NWH8KiwrFJ4/s1600/DSC_1094.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Mattie at Jedburgh Abbey" border="0" height="362" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RRgmn02LVi4/VrScsJkqtgI/AAAAAAAAHWA/NWH8KiwrFJ4/s1600/DSC_1094.JPG" title="Mattie at Jedburgh Abbey" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Few dogs in the world were more loved than Mattie; I still feel her loss keenly. <a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2014/11/mattie-in-scotland.html">Click on this link to see her adventures in Scotland</a>.</td></tr>
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Mattie was a full-fledged member of our family. Jeez, do we miss her.<br />
<br />
Other family members get roped in to my photography, too. In our second year, we had visits in Scotland from my parents, as well as one of Kate's sisters and her family. We also <a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2015/01/expat-lessons-from-our-return-trip-home.html">spent three weeks back in the States</a>, which has been our only trip home during our first three years abroad.<br />
<br />
I'll even throw in a couple of photos with me in them since, as Kate reminds me, I'm part of the family and should make an occasional appearance in our pictures.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-CTggo5hl-oU/VrShbIs5QlI/AAAAAAAAHWY/7XOrdNiMPQY/s1600/DSC_0149.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Cup and ring marks on a stone at Clava Cairns" border="0" height="360" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-CTggo5hl-oU/VrShbIs5QlI/AAAAAAAAHWY/7XOrdNiMPQY/s1600/DSC_0149.JPG" title="Cup and ring marks on a stone at Clava Cairns" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My sister-in-law, Rachel, helps draw your attention to this <a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2014/01/clava-cairns.html">cup and ring marked prehistoric stone at Clava Cairns</a> in Scotland.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-guKTvYRxEvs/VrShakf6QvI/AAAAAAAAHWQ/tkIPCpNoCb8/s1600/DSC_0349%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Oh!" border="0" height="400" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-guKTvYRxEvs/VrShakf6QvI/AAAAAAAAHWQ/tkIPCpNoCb8/s1600/DSC_0349%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Oh!" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Oh!" says my niece, Rosalie.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Dizp_0P9Ysw/VrShbJf9XZI/AAAAAAAAHWU/bKc662rWEL0/s1600/DSC_0703%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Hiking atop the Quairaing on the Isle of Skye" border="0" height="358" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Dizp_0P9Ysw/VrShbJf9XZI/AAAAAAAAHWU/bKc662rWEL0/s1600/DSC_0703%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Hiking atop the Quiraing on the Isle of Skye" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Enjoying the view atop the Quiraing on the Isle of Skye.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mUriiuzkd4U/VrSk5SmGOVI/AAAAAAAAHWo/KGeQB80s62k/s1600/DSC_0216%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Nana at home in the States" border="0" height="425" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mUriiuzkd4U/VrSk5SmGOVI/AAAAAAAAHWo/KGeQB80s62k/s1600/DSC_0216%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Nana at home in the States" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My mom, whom Jackson calls "Nana," at home in North Carolina. Looking pretty good for an old broad who'll turn 70 this month.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jc92MX0MWNI/VrSoiN9FcQI/AAAAAAAAHW4/8GOmMJy1lOA/s1600/IMG_0049%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Jack in a hat" border="0" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jc92MX0MWNI/VrSoiN9FcQI/AAAAAAAAHW4/8GOmMJy1lOA/s400/IMG_0049%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" title="Jack in a hat" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jack in a hat, after watching a performance of <i>The Cat in the Hat</i> at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LpOIhvkid28/VrSk6arvx_I/AAAAAAAAHWs/9wcbl_Ii0gE/s1600/DSC_0893%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Sledding in Colorado" border="0" height="425" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LpOIhvkid28/VrSk6arvx_I/AAAAAAAAHWs/9wcbl_Ii0gE/s1600/DSC_0893%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Sledding in Colorado" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2015/01/sledding-may-result-in-paralysis-and.html">If only she had seen this sign</a>, perhaps my niece, Macie, might've fared better.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Pm5XVo2vB2c/VrSk4lMu56I/AAAAAAAAHWk/W9BihVoDgY8/s1600/DSC_1070%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Off to the races" border="0" height="266" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Pm5XVo2vB2c/VrSk4lMu56I/AAAAAAAAHWk/W9BihVoDgY8/s1600/DSC_1070%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Off to the races" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A race back to the car in freezing temperatures.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I'm also beginning to take a few photos of strangers and passersby, though since I have no journalistic reason it feels a bit intrusive, particularly if I publish them online. But, hey, if they're performing in public, they're fair game.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-o3Joqppd5Rc/VrSvc6HRKhI/AAAAAAAAHXM/nXAxgcygtsQ/s1600/DSC_5870%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Wearing a kilt in Glasgow" border="0" height="426" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-o3Joqppd5Rc/VrSvc6HRKhI/AAAAAAAAHXM/nXAxgcygtsQ/s1600/DSC_5870%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Wearing a kilt in Glasgow" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some Americans seem to think Scots walk around in kilts all the time. Nope. Make no mistake, if someone walks around in a kilt it's a performance of some kind, even if just for attention.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QXExWXNF_44/VrSvb4BlZjI/AAAAAAAAHXI/Z_P72_7Arok/s1600/DSC_1141%2B-%2BVersion%2B3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Performance art in Dryburgh Abbey, Scotland" border="0" height="424" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QXExWXNF_44/VrSvb4BlZjI/AAAAAAAAHXI/Z_P72_7Arok/s1600/DSC_1141%2B-%2BVersion%2B3.JPG" title="Performance art in Dryburgh Abbey, Scotland" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of several dozen white-robed performance artists strode mysteriously around Dryburgh Abbey in the Scottish Borders.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OtFmUSgxBpc/VrSvdJDjazI/AAAAAAAAHXQ/5NLc1_qrObw/s1600/DSC_1140%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Horse crash at the Blair Castle International Horse Trials" border="0" height="424" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OtFmUSgxBpc/VrSvdJDjazI/AAAAAAAAHXQ/5NLc1_qrObw/s1600/DSC_1140%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Horse crash at the Blair Castle International Horse Trials" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This harrowing horse crash resulted in a broken leg for the rider. <a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2014/08/horse-crash.html">Check out the full sequence of the horse crash, which took place over six seconds.</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vDE14zoKRv8/VrSymwD_7II/AAAAAAAAHXc/bd3Lvcn27Bw/s1600/DSC_1162%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Horse jumping at the Blair Castle International Horse Trials" border="0" height="358" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vDE14zoKRv8/VrSymwD_7II/AAAAAAAAHXc/bd3Lvcn27Bw/s1600/DSC_1162%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Horse jumping at the Blair Castle International Horse Trials" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A more scenic view of horse jumping at the <a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2014/11/blair-castle-international-horse-trials.html">Blair Castle International Horse Trials</a>, with Blair Castle as the backdrop. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VBF1tLNTjFY/VrSynaHLrQI/AAAAAAAAHXk/S-HqUDc4x14/s1600/DSC_0580.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Military band at the Royal Edinburgh Military Tattoo" border="0" height="265" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VBF1tLNTjFY/VrSynaHLrQI/AAAAAAAAHXk/S-HqUDc4x14/s1600/DSC_0580.JPG" title="Military band at the Royal Edinburgh Military Tattoo" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A military band <a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2014/08/the-royal-edinburgh-military-tattoo.html">performing at the Royal Edinburgh Military Tattoo</a>.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bs8yYjVZYCY/VrSynQCClnI/AAAAAAAAHXg/KrCXRjc6PC4/s1600/DSC_0386%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Bagpiper at the Three Sisters in Glencoe, Scotland" border="0" height="384" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bs8yYjVZYCY/VrSynQCClnI/AAAAAAAAHXg/KrCXRjc6PC4/s1600/DSC_0386%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Bagpiper at the Three Sisters in Glencoe, Scotland" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A busking highlands bagpiper at the Three Sisters in Glencoe, Scotland.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Enough about all these random people. Let's finish off this collection of <i>almost</i> favorite family photos with pictures of, well, actual family.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-erj4_E_RJrM/VrTHeiR8fhI/AAAAAAAAHX0/wCvYLy2NPB4/s1600/DSC_0814%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Posing in front of the Acropolis in Athens, Greece" border="0" height="424" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-erj4_E_RJrM/VrTHeiR8fhI/AAAAAAAAHX0/wCvYLy2NPB4/s1600/DSC_0814%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Posing in front of the Acropolis in Athens, Greece" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Posing in front of the Acropolis in Athens.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3uzQ7wiyhl4/VrTKna9qpJI/AAAAAAAAHYM/dD6toaIgfO0/s1600/DSC_9580%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Chocolate tasting at Skelligs Chocolate on the Kerry Peninsula, Ireland" border="0" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3uzQ7wiyhl4/VrTKna9qpJI/AAAAAAAAHYM/dD6toaIgfO0/s1600/DSC_9580%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Chocolate tasting at Skelligs Chocolate on the Kerry Peninsula, Ireland" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It was a big hit to stop for a chocolate tasting at Skelligs Chocolate on the far western tip of Ireland. We bought a ton of this excellent chocolate.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-r_ghCACXrc0/VrTHf4Qob5I/AAAAAAAAHX4/gXJ3Jc0PFWw/s1600/IMG_2954%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="A snack at Krispy Kreme" border="0" height="400" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-r_ghCACXrc0/VrTHf4Qob5I/AAAAAAAAHX4/gXJ3Jc0PFWw/s1600/IMG_2954%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" title="A snack at Krispy Kreme" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A North Carolina delicacy.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-N8MhXsgbwFs/VrTHf_TPelI/AAAAAAAAHX8/6eMZSFYa_-o/s1600/DSC_1204%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Lunch break in the fields above Helensburgh, Scotland" border="0" height="426" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-N8MhXsgbwFs/VrTHf_TPelI/AAAAAAAAHX8/6eMZSFYa_-o/s1600/DSC_1204%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Lunch break in the fields above Helensburgh, Scotland" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">After visiting Charles Rennie Mackintosh's famed Hill House we took a hike in the hills above Helensburgh, Scotland. Here, a pause for lunch.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yY8nkrYIKtE/VrTKmrEExoI/AAAAAAAAHYU/zw_9Yv1_9hI/s1600/DSC_0871%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Kate and Jackson on a boat" border="0" height="424" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yY8nkrYIKtE/VrTKmrEExoI/AAAAAAAAHYU/zw_9Yv1_9hI/s1600/DSC_0871%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Kate and Jackson on a boat" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On a boat from Iona to the Treshnish Isles to see puffins.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Cpo20V8D0ow/VrTN054eqbI/AAAAAAAAHYY/7TZNE_zNqpw/s1600/DSC_9382%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Jackson posing within the Kenmare Stone Circle in Ireland" border="0" height="265" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Cpo20V8D0ow/VrTN054eqbI/AAAAAAAAHYY/7TZNE_zNqpw/s1600/DSC_9382%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Jackson posing within the Kenmare Stone Circle in Ireland" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sometimes, even Kate takes pictures. Jackson reclined in the Kenmare Stone Circle in Ireland.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-d5m78eH2HNc/VrTN1cwhhHI/AAAAAAAAHYc/-Tw4I5xFXuI/s1600/DSC_2327%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Hiking through The Whangie in Kilpatrick, Scotland" border="0" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-d5m78eH2HNc/VrTN1cwhhHI/AAAAAAAAHYc/-Tw4I5xFXuI/s1600/DSC_2327%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" title="Hiking through The Whangie in Kilpatrick, Scotland" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hiking through The Whangie in Kilpatrick, Scotland.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Want to see more? Here are the favorites from our first year in Scotland:</b></span><br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2014/07/favorite-photos-of-places-we-visited.html" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt=" http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2014/07/favorite-photos-of-places-we-visited.html" border="0" height="132" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mzC3CJrjTiA/U9J7RAagyyI/AAAAAAAAD1E/U5qNsjk8VS0/s1600/DSC_0925.JPG" title="Dryburgh Abbey ruins; Dryburgh, Scotland" width="200" /></a><br />
<br />
<br />
<b><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://coloringwithoutborders.blogspot.co.uk/2014/07/favorite-photos-of-places-we-visited.html">Favorite photos of places we visited our first year</a></span></span></b><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2014/07/nearly-favorite-photos-of-places-we.html" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt=" http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2014/07/nearly-favorite-photos-of-places-we.html" border="0" height="111" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EA3wbHngIXE/U8VAAm4WTZI/AAAAAAAADso/4jIeE3tONRo/s1600/DSC_0973.JPG" width="200" /></a><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://coloringwithoutborders.blogspot.co.uk/2014/07/nearly-favorite-photos-of-places-we.html">(Nearly) favorite photos of places we visited our first year</a></span></b></span><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2014/06/favorite-family-photos-of-our-first.html" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt=" http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2014/06/favorite-family-photos-of-our-first.html" border="0" height="112" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UBY9grM7dOE/U5TLX9YLvTI/AAAAAAAADgQ/5IOpmXdSnbo/s1600/DSC_0369.JPG" width="200" /></a><br />
<b><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></b>
<b><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://coloringwithoutborders.blogspot.co.uk/2014/06/favorite-family-photos-of-our-first.html">Favorite family photos of our first year in Scotland</a></span></span></b><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2014/06/nearly-favorite-family-photos-of-our.html" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt=" http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2014/06/nearly-favorite-family-photos-of-our.html" border="0" height="97" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FfFuEEBsODQ/U5XA28lWNmI/AAAAAAAADhI/DWMmxLiq39g/s1600/DSC_0071_2.JPG" width="200" /></a><br />
<br />
<b><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2014/06/nearly-favorite-family-photos-of-our.html">(Nearly) favorite family photos of our first year in Scotland</a></span></span></b><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Coloring Without Bordershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00217261486666011245noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5569670220516132426.post-41547546849334428382016-01-29T17:09:00.000+00:002016-01-29T17:20:14.721+00:00When road signs bemuseFar be it for me, a mere colonist, to quibble with the way the English use English. But this road sign in Bristol distracted me so much that I nearly hit a parked car:<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gj5KFD3EgvE/VqtvlXddxbI/AAAAAAAAHUc/Kxef4jDPIJg/s1600/IMG_3920%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Dead Slow Children road sign" border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gj5KFD3EgvE/VqtvlXddxbI/AAAAAAAAHUc/Kxef4jDPIJg/s1600/IMG_3920%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Dead Slow Children road sign" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Are they zombies?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Somebody in the city government proposed this sign.<br />
<br />
Worker: "Pardon, guv'nor, maybe we should use, 'Dead Slow Children'?" <br />
<br />
Boss: "Well, Nigel, let me give it a think. What are our other options? I need to make sure we bloody hell<br />
don't do a cock up."<br />
<br />
Worker: "Me and my mates have been working on this for a fortnight. We're knackered. If we have to go<br />
back to the drawing board it'll all go to pot. We think 'very slow' is rubbish. Doesn't pop, y'know?<br />
'Extremely slow' was too bloody long. And those 'Twenty's Plenty' signs are poufy, amiright?"<br />
<br />
Boss: "Cheerio! 'Dead Slow Children' is scrummy. Any punctuation we could use to make it more clear?"<br />
<br />
Worker: "Blimey, what is 'punctuation'?"<br />
<br />
<br />Coloring Without Bordershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00217261486666011245noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5569670220516132426.post-87197187956901417422016-01-22T13:50:00.000+00:002016-01-26T11:17:37.539+00:00In England, school starts at age 4We moved across the border, and our preschooler has suddenly become school-aged.<br />
<br />
No more nursery. We've kissed goodbye our freedom from school calendars. Upon crossing the border, our <i>wee 'un</i> in Scotland transmogrified into an English schoolboy.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gMvcmwwEYg0/VpeLaiS9WFI/AAAAAAAAHTM/fJPO4BTTfvw/s1600/DSC_8669%2B-%2BVersion%2B4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Wearing his school uniform" border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gMvcmwwEYg0/VpeLaiS9WFI/AAAAAAAAHTM/fJPO4BTTfvw/s1600/DSC_8669%2B-%2BVersion%2B4.jpg" title="Wearing his school uniform" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jackson in his uniform, on his very first day of school. (I've edited the photo to remove the name of the school.)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Our new schoolboy is thrilled to have become a "big kid."<br />
<br />
I'm a little more reticent. Expat life comes with complications, and schooling is one of them.<br />
<br />
<h3>
</h3>
<h3>
England starts them young</h3>
<br />
Throughout almost all the rest of the world, children don't start school until at least the age of five. In many countries kids don't start until age six, which is the norm in Europe. Some European nations start schooling at age seven. <br />
<br />
To my mind, starting school at age four is quite young. At four, kids are just leaving toddlerhood. In the U.S., they're preschoolers, not deemed ready for the rigors of a day of school. <br />
<br />
In England, these four year olds enter into the "reception year," only partly equivalent with kindergarten in the U.S. Fortunately, much of their time is spent playing, or in play-based learning. But they're also engaged in daily lessons, usually of phonics or maths <span class="st" data-hveid="49">— note the plural on <i>maths</i>, which is what we call it here </span><span class="st" data-hveid="49">— or in a variety of other topics.</span><br />
<br />
<span class="st" data-hveid="49">From what I've gleaned so far, reception year is closer academically to first grade in America. What typical six year olds do in the U.S., the kids here do at age four. </span><br />
<br />
Technically, the compulsory school age in England is five. Parents can elect to have their kids skip reception year and send their five year olds into Year 1. Very, very few kids do so. Some parents of "summer born children" would like to have their five year olds enter reception year, which has caused a political fight that Parliament looks likely to resolve by allowing five year olds to enter reception year at their parents' discretion. We pondered trying to do so with Jackson, but it isn't the law yet and we would've had to fight the Bristol school system for permission. We opted against that.<br />
<br />
Instead, for better or worse, our immigrant son is following the path of the vast majority of his English peers.<br />
<br />
By contrast, if we had stayed in Scotland, Jackson would've entered school at age five. The same holds true for Northern Ireland. Wales aligns with England, starting children at four.<br />
<br />
<h3>
Do all schools require uniforms?</h3>
<br />
<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="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-i9dxz-cRQe4/VpeqIFRJvGI/AAAAAAAAHTg/R9M6Zbn1cHk/s1600/DSC_8726%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="school uniform shoes" border="0" height="133" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-i9dxz-cRQe4/VpeqIFRJvGI/AAAAAAAAHTg/R9M6Zbn1cHk/s200/DSC_8726%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="school uniform shoes" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Non-marking plain black shoes" are required for the uniform.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
No, but most do. In fact, the overwhelming majority of primary and secondary school students wear uniforms. On any school day you see hordes of well-dressed kids in blazers and trousers or skirts. Young children typically wear jumpers (i.e., sweaters) instead of blazers.<br />
<br />
For the youngest ages, not all schools require uniforms. It's a decision left up to individual schools, as determined by headteachers (i.e., principals) and, perhaps, governing boards of schools. Moreover, whilst most schools in England are operated by the government, a quickly increasing number of schools are now "academies," essentially private schools run by education trusts. Attendance at academies is free of charge. From just a few dozen a few years ago, academies now number in the thousands, with no sign of abatement. The academies have more discretion over decisions like school uniforms and length of days, though they still must follow the national curriculum.<br />
<br />
How much did Jackson's uniform cost? Roughly, a couple hundred dollars. The required uniform included: a monogrammed jumper; five plain white polo shirts (a mixture of monogrammed and generic shirts); several gray trousers, which we had professionally hemmed; gray socks; plain black shoes; a P.E. outfit of monogrammed sweatshirt, shorts, and running trousers (i.e., sweatpants); a small water bottle; and a bookbag.<br />
<br />
Where an older kid might disdain a uniform, the little kids tend to view it as a symbol of now being "big" and able to go to school. Jackson <i>loved</i> his uniform.<br />
<br />
{<i>Ed.'s note: "Loved"? Does he no longer love it?</i>}<br />
<br />
No, he still does love it. But how long did we make use of this uniform? Two weeks. That's right, we got a total of two weeks use of this uniform.<br />
<br />
I explain more in the next section.<br />
<br />
Jackson misses his uniform. Of course, now he can wear Minion shirts, and superhero socks, and blinking shoes, so he's not too distraught.<br />
<br />
<h3>
Extremely local <span class="st" data-hveid="49">— and frequently oversubscribed </span><span class="st" data-hveid="49">—</span> schools</h3>
<br />
Primary schools tend to the smaller side in England. Often, there will be only one or two classrooms per age, so one or two reception years, one or two Year 1 classes, and so on. By law, class sizes are limited to thirty students, with one teacher and a couple of teaching assistants. Primary school extends to Year 6, after which kids head to secondary school.<br />
<br />
In urban areas, these small schools are very much neighborhood schools. They are full to capacity. Many schools operate waiting lists, the priority for which is determined not by how long you've been on the list but instead by the <i>distance you live from the school</i>. <br />
<br />
Unless he has an older sibling at a school, or one of a few other exceptions, a child very likely lives just a few hundred yards (actually meters, but I find it hard to shift to using the metric system) from his school. There's no public busing of students, so unless a parent provides transportation, the child almost certainly walks to school. <br />
<br />
Given the class size limits, which are set in stone, there's no flexibility for a new kid moving into the neighborhood during the year. If there are no open spaces, your kid cannot attend. That was our problem for Jackson, because we moved to Bristol at the end of November 2015. To have secured a spot at our local primary school <span class="st" data-hveid="49">— which by all parent accounts, government ratings, test scores, etc., is one of the very best schools in the city </span><span class="st" data-hveid="49">— we would have had to apply by January 2015, many months before we even knew we were moving to Bristol. Impossible to have done, obviously. </span><br />
<br />
<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="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JSv8tdZDtYA/VqIfze_gn8I/AAAAAAAAHUM/EoHVRuq856w/s1600/DSC_8677%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Jackson and Kate on the first day of school" border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JSv8tdZDtYA/VqIfze_gn8I/AAAAAAAAHUM/EoHVRuq856w/s1600/DSC_8677%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" title="Jackson and Kate on the first day of school" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jackson and Kate on his first day of school.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span class="st" data-hveid="49">So we were left scrambling to find a space for Jackson. Fortunately, we found an excellent academy a half mile away, a new science/technology school run by an education trust that also runs several of the best primary and secondary schools in Bristol. We were very lucky to have stumbled into a space in that school, which is so brand new it has only one reception class, with no other classes or years yet.</span><br />
<br />
<span class="st" data-hveid="49">However, we also put ourselves on the waitlist for our local primary school. From what we were told, spots come open very rarely. It might be years before a spot materialized.</span><br />
<br />
And yet, somehow, a place opened up, a mere two weeks after Jackson started at the academy. Given our proximity to the local school <span class="st" data-hveid="49">— we're literally a stone's throw away </span><span class="st" data-hveid="49">— Jackson was at the top of the waitlist. I know we jumped ahead of at least three kids who had been on the waitlist for the entire school year, but them's the rules.</span><br />
<span class="st" data-hveid="49"><br /></span>
<span class="st" data-hveid="49">Though it would mean further disruption for Jackson, we simply couldn't pass up a spot at his outstanding local school. Both of our next door neighbors have four year olds at the school, and they're his nearest thing to buddies here. Also, with a new baby on the way, this school is incredibly convenient.</span><br />
<br />
Fortunately, Jackson seems remarkably adaptable to new situations. Over the course of twelve months, he has started at nursery in Scotland; shifted to a new building for nursery (luckily, with the same teacher and some of the same kids); moved to England; started primary school; changed schools two weeks later; and, in the next six weeks, added a baby brother. That's a lot of change for me and Kate, let alone a little kid. We've thrust him into the "new kid" role several times just in the last several months, and he doesn't bat an eye.<br />
<br />
We're not winning any parenting awards this year, that's for sure. But he goes along without a fuss. We try to frame all the newness as adventures, and Jackson has totally bought into that framework. He's already planning our next move "once we're bored with England," which should be, in his opinion, to Germany, because on the autobahn "you can drive 100." That's his sole criteria. Meanwhile, I'm now determined to give him some stability, <a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2015/12/and-we-have-moved-to.html">perhaps even seeking U.K. citizenship</a>.<br />
<br />
<h3>
How long is the school day?</h3>
<br />
In Bristol, and I think throughout England, a school day at the primary level lasts between six and seven hours. For secondary schools, you can add another hour or two, with some in the government calling for ten hour days and reduced vacation time.<br />
<br />
Jackson's school day lasts from 8:55 until 3:30. At noon, he has an hour and 15 minutes for lunch and outdoor playtime.<br />
<br />
<h3>
School in England is year-round, though that's not as long as you might think</h3>
<br />
A debate rages in many parts of the U.S. about whether to have a "traditional" school year of September(ish) to June(ish), with a long summer break, or a "year round" school year, with more frequent breaks during the year but a substantially shorter summer. Either way, the school year lasts about 180 days.<br />
<br />
England, like much of the rest of the world, operates its schools in a year-round format. The school year lasts 190 days. Each year has six terms, though these terms are of unequal lengths. Summer break lasts approximately six weeks.<br />
<br />
Almost all schools and school systems follow the same calendar. Bristol's calendar is below, though individual schools can shift a few days here and there, often for "inset days" (i.e., teacher workdays):<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li><b>Term 1</b> Tuesday 1 September to Wednesday 21 October 2015</li>
<li><b>Term 2</b> Monday 2 November to Friday 18 December 2015</li>
<li><b>Term 3</b> Monday 4 January to Friday 5 February 2016</li>
<li><b>Term 4</b> Monday 15 February to Thursday 24 March 2016<br /> (Easter is 25 to 28 March)</li>
<li><b>Term 5</b> Monday 11 April to Friday 27 May 2016<br /> (closed on 2 May 2015 for the Early May Bank Holiday)</li>
<li><b>Term 6</b> Monday 6 June to Friday 22 July 2016</li>
</ul>
<br />
Having almost all English schools on the same calendar is useful for planning purposes. But it's absolute hell for travel plans and costs during school break times. Everybody goes on holiday at the same time, which causes plane fares and accommodation costs to skyrocket. Available bookings become frighteningly scarce. The problem is so pronounced that the government is toying with the idea of allowing schools to set their own calendars, just to avoid the holiday crush.<br />
<br />
Can you take your kid out of school during term time?
Nope. Well, you can, but only if you have the headteacher's permission.
Otherwise, you can be fined £60 per day of absence. If you are deemed too egregious, they can take you to court and even put you in jail. Putting on my attorney hat, that's fairly unlikely, but it's a power the schools increasingly are seeking to enforce. <br />
<br />
We're new to a year-round format. I'm withholding judgment. I like having longer breaks during the school year, but allowing only six weeks for summer seems achingly short.<br />
<br />
Regrettably, as an expat who's living overseas in part because of the opportunities to travel, I'm now tethered to the school calendar. Tethered for <span class="st" data-hveid="49">— and this part pains me </span><span class="st" data-hveid="49">— the next couple of <i>decades</i>. Noooooooo!!!!!</span><br />
<span class="st" data-hveid="49"><br /></span>
<span class="st" data-hveid="49">With our move to England, we suddenly have a school-age child. And the joys and travails which come along.</span><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ewwg66QQ1mo/VqIA1WSI-CI/AAAAAAAAHT8/LN9dZnlmAVU/s1600/IMG_3897%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="On the way to school" border="0" height="384" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ewwg66QQ1mo/VqIA1WSI-CI/AAAAAAAAHT8/LN9dZnlmAVU/s1600/IMG_3897%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="On the way to school" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Off to school, still in uniform.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Coloring Without Bordershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00217261486666011245noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5569670220516132426.post-82642888504123638772015-12-22T20:46:00.000+00:002016-01-14T12:07:37.742+00:00Autumn colors in ScotlandOkay, okay, it's no longer autumn. I get it. It's the winter solstice, and I've dawdled too long on collecting all these photos for a post. <br />
<br />
And now we're all in the mode for winter and the holidays. It's time for pictures of snow, colorful decorations, beautiful families gathered 'round a roaring hearth.<br />
<br />
Too bad, <i>dagnabbit</i>. These are some pretty pictures, and that's what counts, right?<br />
<br />
We had a fairly cold and wet summer in Scotland, followed by a relatively warm and sunny autumn. According to the never-wrong internets, these are good conditions for a colorful fall display. Where the autumn colors on America's east coast tend to get a dazzling fall display, the usual colors in Scotland seem drab by comparison.<br />
<br />
Not this year.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Iu44CQr6Gys/VnR5T7YLT0I/AAAAAAAAHP4/Thz8miT_RGA/s1600/DSC_7008%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Abbotsford in autumn" border="0" height="382" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Iu44CQr6Gys/VnR5T7YLT0I/AAAAAAAAHP4/Thz8miT_RGA/s1600/DSC_7008%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Abbotsford in autumn" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Abbotsford, the home of Sir Walter Scott.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Generally, in the Scottish lowlands the leaves don't start to change colors until late September. Many trees don't give a hint of turning until well into October. Here's a waterfall on the River Clyde, <span class="st" data-hveid="49"></span>the Corra Linn (in Scots, "linn" means waterfall), and the nearby UNESCO World Heritage site of New Lanark,<span class="st" data-hveid="49"> at the end of September:</span><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--ZpLvzinzjI/Vngxvj3lJKI/AAAAAAAAHQQ/A6F1t_Bj-kc/s1600/DSC_5761%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Corra Linn on the River Clyde" border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--ZpLvzinzjI/Vngxvj3lJKI/AAAAAAAAHQQ/A6F1t_Bj-kc/s1600/DSC_5761%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Corra Linn on the River Clyde" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Corra Linn falls, at 84 feet, rank as Scotland's fourth highest.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4paOQUEHF-0/VngzFixb23I/AAAAAAAAHQY/ipVAmlb-zdc/s1600/DSC_5746%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="New Lanark mills" border="0" height="384" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4paOQUEHF-0/VngzFixb23I/AAAAAAAAHQY/ipVAmlb-zdc/s1600/DSC_5746%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="New Lanark mills" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">New Lanark, a UNESCO World Heritage site, is just a short distance downstream from the Corra Linn waterfall.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span class="st" data-hveid="49">I mentioned we enjoyed a healthy dollop of sunshine this fall. Here was a sunny day in Edinburgh in mid-October:</span>
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ulRf6VvF-Jw/Vnmd8PzI5II/AAAAAAAAHQo/Ml-B54dNS6U/s1600/DSC_6123%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="blue skies over Arthur's Seat" border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ulRf6VvF-Jw/Vnmd8PzI5II/AAAAAAAAHQo/Ml-B54dNS6U/s1600/DSC_6123%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="blue skies over Arthur's Seat" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not every autumn in Scotland gets much blue sky. But this year blue skies made some starring appearances, like this day over Arthur's Seat in Edinburgh.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zZaFkiQWYjI/Vnmd8H7D1sI/AAAAAAAAHQs/xQXjzPkZdrY/s1600/DSC_6141%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="autumn colors around Craigmillar Castle" border="0" height="426" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zZaFkiQWYjI/Vnmd8H7D1sI/AAAAAAAAHQs/xQXjzPkZdrY/s1600/DSC_6141%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="autumn colors around Craigmillar Castle" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A vibrant day around Craigmillar Castle in Edinburgh.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
And of course our autumn showcased a smorgasbord of color:<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KI_CldhW4nU/VnmiE0LSWzI/AAAAAAAAHRE/KQUfr_K1bKI/s1600/DSC_6859%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="colorful contrast at Abbotsford" border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KI_CldhW4nU/VnmiE0LSWzI/AAAAAAAAHRE/KQUfr_K1bKI/s1600/DSC_6859%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="colorful contrast at Abbotsford" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I loved the contrast of Abbotsford's gray walls with the color-dripping flora surrounding it.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eMlTC3wjBBo/VnmiEOZgYLI/AAAAAAAAHQ8/G4dLuGHxO1o/s1600/DSC_5829%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="sunset in Glasgow" border="0" height="384" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eMlTC3wjBBo/VnmiEOZgYLI/AAAAAAAAHQ8/G4dLuGHxO1o/s1600/DSC_5829%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="sunset in Glasgow" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I shot this glorious sunset from our house in Glasgow.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1EcqQyZAMTY/VnmlvsXG13I/AAAAAAAAHRQ/E36RDTwVMMM/s1600/DSC_7435%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="waterfall in Glencoe" border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1EcqQyZAMTY/VnmlvsXG13I/AAAAAAAAHRQ/E36RDTwVMMM/s1600/DSC_7435%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="waterfall in Glencoe" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Without many trees, the ground cover in Glencoe takes on a starring role.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1vrLtDmxcNw/VnmlwBKjBXI/AAAAAAAAHRU/pn2FbUjXZw0/s1600/DSC_7388%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="one of the Three Sisters of Glencoe" border="0" height="426" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1vrLtDmxcNw/VnmlwBKjBXI/AAAAAAAAHRU/pn2FbUjXZw0/s1600/DSC_7388%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="one of the Three Sisters of Glencoe" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kate organized the British Society of Veterinary Pathology's annual meeting, and snagged her former professor from NC State as the headliner. His visit was a great excuse to take one last jaunt into Glencoe <span class="st" data-hveid="49">— here at the Three Sisters </span><span class="st" data-hveid="49">—</span> and the highlands before we moved to Bristol.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
As you can see, not every day was sunny with blue skies. Gray, cloudy, and ominous are more frequent autumn descriptors. One day in October, I tried to visit Inchmahome Priory, a ruin on an island in the middle of the Lake of Monteith. (Incidentally, here's a great trivia question for you: <i>What is the only lake in Scotland?</i> The Lake of Monteith. Everything else is called a loch.) It was so foggy that the boats wouldn't take me to the priory. I had to come back later in the week.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Nv-hpofdUCA/VnmogZka3sI/AAAAAAAAHRk/V7NdDiOl6Qc/s1600/DSC_5840%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="fog over the Lake of Monteith" border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Nv-hpofdUCA/VnmogZka3sI/AAAAAAAAHRk/V7NdDiOl6Qc/s1600/DSC_5840%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="fog over the Lake of Monteith" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fog, like here at the Lake of Monteith, is a regular morning feature of Scottish autumn mornings.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Never fear, however. Blue skies made sure to blast through on other mornings:<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZfaDzR1J_Nc/Vnmpi0WbaZI/AAAAAAAAHRs/x5X2mU2xiA8/s1600/DSC_6119%2B-%2BVersion%2B3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Dunfermline Abbey in autumn" border="0" height="384" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZfaDzR1J_Nc/Vnmpi0WbaZI/AAAAAAAAHRs/x5X2mU2xiA8/s1600/DSC_6119%2B-%2BVersion%2B3.JPG" title="Dunfermline Abbey in autumn" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dunfermline Abbey holds the tomb of Robert the Bruce. Note the "King Robert" carved into the central tower.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Melrose Abbey, one of the glorious Border Abbey ruins, is gorgeous at any time of year. But I think it's at its best in autumn. Take a gander at the fall colors around the abbey:<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-G7H8HwW_prM/Vnmq9xnHXOI/AAAAAAAAHSI/Pj9usX-hAFc/s1600/DSC_7065%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Melrose Abbey with autumn leaves" border="0" height="426" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-G7H8HwW_prM/Vnmq9xnHXOI/AAAAAAAAHSI/Pj9usX-hAFc/s1600/DSC_7065%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Melrose Abbey with autumn leaves" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Melrose Abbey with scattered autumn leaves.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Yj1XM-83_3c/Vnmq8mtQ6FI/AAAAAAAAHR4/esDjQ4lkl1Q/s1600/DSC_7288%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="enjoying a beautiful fall afternoon" border="0" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Yj1XM-83_3c/Vnmq8mtQ6FI/AAAAAAAAHR4/esDjQ4lkl1Q/s1600/DSC_7288%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="enjoying a beautiful fall day" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kate and Jackson share a giggle on the abbey's grounds.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-S4RAOsw3H58/Vnmq9I8xXFI/AAAAAAAAHR8/gAKL6988vF0/s1600/DSC_7223%2B-%2BVersion%2B3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Melrose Abbey with fall colors" border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-S4RAOsw3H58/Vnmq9I8xXFI/AAAAAAAAHR8/gAKL6988vF0/s1600/DSC_7223%2B-%2BVersion%2B3.JPG" title="Melrose Abbey with fall colors" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fall colors surround Melrose Abbey.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
One of Edinburgh's best places for autumn leaves is the Princes Street Gardens, which provides a buffer between Edinburgh's Old Town and New Town. I strolled through at the tail end of October, a bit after the fall peak but nonetheless still vivid:<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ekx-zuj7xd4/VnmuzGMShYI/AAAAAAAAHSU/evZY8Hg4PSQ/s1600/DSC_7557%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="autumn splendor in Princes Street Gardens in Edinburgh" border="0" height="384" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ekx-zuj7xd4/VnmuzGMShYI/AAAAAAAAHSU/evZY8Hg4PSQ/s1600/DSC_7557%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="autumn splendor in Princes Street Gardens in Edinburgh" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Above the gardens looms the Royal Mile, with the tower of St. Giles' Cathedral piercing the skyline.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1UHQPlZDUko/VnmuzzEehbI/AAAAAAAAHSc/GOEx27dJqpA/s1600/DSC_7573%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Edinburgh Castle from Princes Street Gardens in autumn" border="0" height="426" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1UHQPlZDUko/VnmuzzEehbI/AAAAAAAAHSc/GOEx27dJqpA/s1600/DSC_7573%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Edinburgh Castle from Princes Street Gardens in autumn" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A section of Edinburgh Castle peeks through the fall foliage.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
In early November, I made a last few excursions around Glasgow <a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2015/12/and-we-have-moved-to.html">before we moved to Bristol</a>. These final two photos I took with my old iPhone:<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VLVQdKUMOOI/Vnmw31p1BWI/AAAAAAAAHSw/BoAGTSpuG6g/s1600/IMG_3870%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="autumn trees along the River Kelvin in Glasgow" border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VLVQdKUMOOI/Vnmw31p1BWI/AAAAAAAAHSw/BoAGTSpuG6g/s1600/IMG_3870%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="autumn trees along the River Kelvin in Glasgow" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Colorful trees surround the River Kelvin in Glasgow. By this point of fall, we had used up all our blue sky.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--YSq_7-I0ws/Vnmw3KiiS9I/AAAAAAAAHSo/FlJCIWvdlL8/s1600/IMG_3863%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Kelvingrove Museum in autumn" border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--YSq_7-I0ws/Vnmw3KiiS9I/AAAAAAAAHSo/FlJCIWvdlL8/s1600/IMG_3863%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Kelvingrove Museum in autumn" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I love the rich color of the Kelvingrove Museum, especially in autumn.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
And that was our third and final autumn in Scotland, definitely the most colorful of the three. While I'm looking forward to new places to explore here in southwestern England, I'm bittersweet about leaving beloved Scotland behind.<br />
<br />
It'll be hard for next autumn to compete.<br />
<br />
<br />Coloring Without Bordershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00217261486666011245noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5569670220516132426.post-45209681597660602062015-12-17T16:56:00.000+00:002016-01-14T12:16:23.329+00:00And we have moved to . . . Our expat journey continues!<br />
<br />
We hadn't planned on moving. At least, not yet.<br />
<br />
{<i>Ed.'s note: That implies you actually </i>have <i>a plan.</i>}<br />
<br />
Okay, true enough, we don't have a plan. But when we first moved overseas, back in June 2013, we assumed we'd be in Scotland for at least three years. Kate's <a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2013/07/how-we-ended-up-in-glasgow.html">contract with the University of Glasgow</a> was for three years, and at the end of those three years <span class="st" data-hveid="50">—</span> i.e., next June <span class="st" data-hveid="50">—</span> our toddler would have turned five and been ready to begin school. We figured June 2016 would be an excellent time to take stock of our lives and see how this expat adventure was working out.<br />
<br />
Then Kate developed a crush.<br />
<br />
Actually, she's had the crush for a long time. Years. Since before we ever moved overseas, she had developed a crush on a small veterinary diagnostic company.<span class="st" data-hveid="50"> (I've been assured the crush is only for the company, and not for its owner.) She loves their fantastic work and clientele. She loves that although they are a small business, they nonetheless have (inter)national leaders in the field of anatomic pathology who produce good scholarship and give talks at major conventions. She loves that they're so well respected in the field that the Royal Veterinary College in London sends its pathology residents to spend as much as a year getting training at the company. She loves that the job advertisement indicated baking skills were not required, but definitely a bonus.</span><br />
<span class="st" data-hveid="50"><br /></span>
<span class="st" data-hveid="50">She really loves that they all stop work every day and have tea, and every Friday is "cake Friday." And that she'll get her own mug with her name on it, although not until she's been there long enough to earn it.</span><br />
<br />
It's the little things.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j0X5anMHy9s/VlYYlqCglUI/AAAAAAAAHNo/ZdLShMnucfE/s1600/Sefton%2BPark%2B1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Our new home in Bristol, England" border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j0X5anMHy9s/VlYYlqCglUI/AAAAAAAAHNo/ZdLShMnucfE/s1600/Sefton%2BPark%2B1.jpg" title="Our new home in Bristol, England" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our new home, a nineteenth century Victorian row house. (Photo by leasing agency.)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
{<i>Ed.'s note: Okay, get on with it. Where is this new job?</i>}<br />
<br />
I thought you'd never ask. We have moved to . . .<br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Bristol, England!</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<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="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tNe7D8PWVYY/VnBBFSDZqtI/AAAAAAAAHOE/do6yjxkoCxo/s1600/Bristol%2Bon%2Bmap%2Bof%2BEngland.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Bristol on map of Britain" border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tNe7D8PWVYY/VnBBFSDZqtI/AAAAAAAAHOE/do6yjxkoCxo/s1600/Bristol%2Bon%2Bmap%2Bof%2BEngland.gif" title="Bristol on map of Britain" width="259" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bristol on map of Britain (<a href="http://www.cornell-brown-penn.ac.uk/getting-to-bristol">link</a>)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
We left bonnie Scotland for the auld enemy, England. Some of you might think we've simply moved south within the same country (the United Kingdom). In the view of many Scots, though, we left one country and moved to another. I'm glum about leaving Glasgow and the lovely nation of Scotland. We truly loved our time there.<br />
<br />
But a new city beckoned.<br />
<br />
And what a city it is. According to frequent rankings and polls, Bristol grades as the U.K.'s best city to live in. It's funky. Artsy. Home of renowned street artist Banksy. Home of multiple Oscar-winning studio Aardman Animations, which created characters like Wallace and Gromit and Shaun the Sheep. Home of the illustrious Bristol Old Vic Theatre School, founded by Sir Laurence Olivier and whose alumni include Jeremy Irons, Gene Wilder, Olivia Colman, Patrick Stewart, Stephen Dillane, and the incomparable Daniel Day Lewis. Home of iconic engineering marvels, like the Clifton Suspension Bridge. Home of numerous festivals, including, because the area is so gorgeous, an international hot air balloon extravaganza.<br />
<br />
Bristolians get roughly half the yearly rainfall as Glaswegians. And Bristol enjoys approximately 360 more hours of sunshine per year than Glasgow, which equates to a full month more of sunny days. When you're coming from damp Scotland, these aren't insignificant bonuses. <br />
<br />
Bristol's best draw, to my mind, is its ideal placement to explore so much of England and Wales. We're on the threshold of: the Cotswolds; the wilds of southern Wales; the rolling countryside of Somerset, with its cider and Cheddar (as in, the actual birthplace town of Cheddar cheese); the moors of Devon; the beaches of Cornwall; and UNESCO world heritage sites like Bath and Avebury and Stonehenge. <br />
<br />
With our 19th century Victorian row house, we've seriously upped our Britishness. The house comes complete with
ten-foot ceilings, original stained glass, wide-plank floors, and,
well, not one goddamn closet. Moreover, we now live within a stone's throw of three sporting complexes <span class="st" data-hveid="50">—</span> lawn bowling,
grass court tennis, and a cricket pitch. It's as though we've moved into a British <span class="_Tgc">cliché</span>.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3AIRR7lC-5U/VlYZfLVGoSI/AAAAAAAAHNw/QqRZK8MbKzs/s1600/Sefton%2BPark%2B3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Kitchen" border="0" height="426" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3AIRR7lC-5U/VlYZfLVGoSI/AAAAAAAAHNw/QqRZK8MbKzs/s1600/Sefton%2BPark%2B3.jpg" title="Kitchen" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our kitchen, as lived in by our predecessors. (Photo by leasing agency.)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Our move to Bristol has forced a painful but necessary scantiness in blog posts here. For the past few months, we've been preoccupied with the move <span class="st" data-hveid="50">— finding a place to live, figuring out schooling for Jackson (kids in England start at age 4, unlike in Scotland where they start at age 5), packing boxes and arranging movers, and on and on. Plus, ever since we saw our move on the horizon, we spent every available day in Scotland traveling and sightseeing and absorbing as much as we could. I wanted to devote time to experiencing Scotland instead of writing about it.</span><br />
<span class="st" data-hveid="50"><br /></span>
<span class="st" data-hveid="50">{<i>Ed.'s note: Now that you've left, will you no longer blog about Scotland?</i>}</span><br />
<span class="st" data-hveid="50"><br /></span>
<span class="st" data-hveid="50">Heck, no! I have oodles and tons and reams and gobs of fascinating stuff in Scotland still to write about. Truly, years worth. Especially at my current snail's pace. Indeed, Scotland will still feature very prominently here. I loved it and have much more to share. England and Wales, however, will now become major players here, as well.</span><br />
<br />
<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="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gN2MCsOZ2x8/VnLlNZ_M4iI/AAAAAAAAHOU/p1joi4YQrZg/s1600/DSC_7592%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="pregnant with the lil' scribbler" border="0" height="160" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gN2MCsOZ2x8/VnLlNZ_M4iI/AAAAAAAAHOU/p1joi4YQrZg/s1600/DSC_7592%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="pregnant with the lil' scribbler" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kate at 5.5 months pregnant with the new lil' scribbler.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Our <i>carpe negotium</i> (i.e., seize the job) move to England has once again stretched our boundaries and expanded our expat lives. While our first move, to Glasgow, always had a possible deadline of three years, this second move, to Bristol, feels like a long-term stay. We're only three to four years from getting our U.K. citizenship, which is a huge goal we're eyeing. That'll give us a multitude of options and advantages for our futures, particularly for Jackson and <span class="st" data-hveid="50"><a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2015/10/new-scribbler-joining-our-team.html">the new baby on the way</a>. A passport from the U.K. provides European Union citizenship (assuming the U.K. doesn't boneheadedly vote to leave in an upcoming referendum), as well as the many perks of being members of the Commonwealth.</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
After two and a half years, expat life is still relatively new to us. Living outside the U.S. for a few years seemed adventurous; we were ready to color outside the lines. Now that we're earnestly contemplating getting foreign citizenship? Well, we've gone from scribbling on the page to drafting an entirely new picture.<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="color: red;">UPDATE:</span> I've gotten a few inquiries about whether we'd give up our U.S. citizenship. Getting U.K. citizenship doesn't require giving up U.S. citizenship. We have no intention of relinquishing our U.S. passports.<br />
<br />
<br />Coloring Without Bordershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00217261486666011245noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5569670220516132426.post-7484929085437711842015-11-04T17:13:00.000+00:002016-01-14T12:08:52.296+00:00You don't know Jack (#8)<div class="post-header">
</div>
<div class="post-body entry-content" id="post-body-2833340442755965862" itemprop="description articleBody">
Like all toddlers, Jackson provides the occasional nuggets of
observation or wisdom or humor. These are generally unprompted, often
silly or nonsensical, and usually come out of the blue with no context.<br />
<br />
The kid seems to be feeling quite full of himself. Here are some recent ones:</div>
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ECX5h5VXd0Y/Vjo0Rv15ZhI/AAAAAAAAHM0/2qMEbkYSmPQ/s1600/IMG_3845%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Narcissus meets his reflection" border="0" height="382" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ECX5h5VXd0Y/Vjo0Rv15ZhI/AAAAAAAAHM0/2qMEbkYSmPQ/s1600/IMG_3845%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" title="Narcissus meets his reflection" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> Fancy meeting you here, Narcissus.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
• "You know, Dad, it's much quieter around here without all of Mommy's talking."<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
• "Next year, can we go on X Factor? I want to sing <i>Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star</i>. They would like that."<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
• <i>On eating:</i> "I think I'm the slowest boy in the whole world." <i>It sometimes feels like that, kid.</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
• "Mommy, you and I need a long time before we reach Daddy's age. A long, long, long, long, long, long, long time."<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
• "I'm much more excited about having a baby than you guys are!"<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-opXo2xjgyMc/Vjo3iuRaIyI/AAAAAAAAHNI/TfHOivefn6w/s1600/DSC_6992%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Waiting for mom and dad at Abbotsford" border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-opXo2xjgyMc/Vjo3iuRaIyI/AAAAAAAAHNI/TfHOivefn6w/s1600/DSC_6992%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Waiting for mom and dad at Abbotsford" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Why are mom and dad so slow?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
• <i>To Kate:</i> "I know much, much more than you. And I am more advanced than you. And my memory is far better than yours."<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
• "I bet my great, great, great grandfather was the 'Star of the Week' at school."<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
• "Mom, your bum is too big for this seat." <i>Well, it does happen to be a toddler seat, you little bastard.</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
• "I may still be little, but I have BIG plans."<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
• "Hey, dad, do you like toots? Do you? Do you? Guess what . . . "<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5jJBJMHEXos/Vjo1veSIVYI/AAAAAAAAHM8/q4q4kYvqveU/s1600/DSC_7365%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Hulk SMASH!" border="0" height="456" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5jJBJMHEXos/Vjo1veSIVYI/AAAAAAAAHM8/q4q4kYvqveU/s1600/DSC_7365%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" title="Hulk SMASH!" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Daddy, can I grow up to be a superhero?" <i>Of course you can, dear.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />Coloring Without Bordershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00217261486666011245noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5569670220516132426.post-60391688265812758552015-10-29T17:45:00.001+00:002016-01-14T12:18:40.700+00:00Spine-tingling tales from Scotland<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="The old Alloway church" border="0" height="424" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eWBWg_WI_Hg/VFKaakTYUzI/AAAAAAAAEv0/G1G6fctR0z8/s1600/DSC_0946%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="The auld Alloway kirk" width="640" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Scotland delights in its tales of misery, mystery, and misfortune. Some tales are historical, like <span class="st">the 15th century "Black Dinner" which inspired <i>Games of Thrones'</i> famous "Red Wedding." Some are mythical, such as the elusive <a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2015/07/loch-ness-monster-likely-large-catfish.html">Loch Ness Monster</a> or the dangerous <a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2014/09/monday-exposure-kelpies.html">kelpies</a>. Others are fictional, like <a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2013/10/made-in-glasgow-gruffalo.html">the Gruffalo</a>.</span><br />
<br />
<span class="st">And some are ghostly and macabre. Trickster faeries. Cutty Sark and the hellish legions. Damn near any Scottish castle worthy of its name has at least one ghost. You might spot the Pink Lady of Stirling, the harpist of Inverary, the handless ghost of Cawdor, a pacing William Wallace at Ardrossan, or perhaps Moaning Myrtle of Hogwarts.</span><br />
<br />
Last year, I collected a few of my favorite stories. As Halloween approaches this year, here are some Scottish tales to get your spine tingling: <br />
<span style="color: #cc0000;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></span></span>
<a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2014/10/monday-exposure-old-man-of-storr.html" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt=" Old Man of Storr and the faerie king" border="0" height="132" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CyNOkHCI8gs/VDK_yAnm64I/AAAAAAAAEls/391UfMHsNj4/s200/DSC_0893%2B-%2BVersion%2B3.JPG" title="Old Man of Storr viewed from the south, Isle of Skye" width="200" /></a><span style="color: #cc0000;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #cc0000;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2014/10/monday-exposure-old-man-of-storr.html"> Old Man of Storr and the faerie king</a></span></span></span></span><br />
<br />
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></span>
<a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2014/10/tam-o-shanter-and-brig-o-doon.html" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt=" Tam o' Shanter and the Brig o' Doon" border="0" height="142" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZVwln5413Ds/VFKosPoLREI/AAAAAAAAEwo/qoCybJnrtRg/s200/Tam%2Bo'%2BShanter--Richard%2BCockle%2BLucas.jpg" title="When out the hellish legion salled, by Richard Cockle Lucas" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2014/10/tam-o-shanter-and-brig-o-doon.html"> Tam o' Shanter and the Brig o' Doon</a></span></span><br />
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<a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2014/10/monday-exposure-ghost-piper-of.html" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt=" The ghost piper of Edinburgh Castle" border="0" height="111" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rKyFO3KhOSo/VDlG3kpeTYI/AAAAAAAAEnY/9U1xpWzMGPU/s200/DSC_0286%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Torches burn at the gatehouse of Edinburgh Castle" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2014/10/monday-exposure-ghost-piper-of.html"> The ghost piper of Edinburgh Castle</a></span></span><br />
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<a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2014/10/monday-exposure-devil-plays-cards-at.html" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt=" The devil plays cards at Glamis Castle" border="0" height="133" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fiShuAj6ipU/VEUcfJEm7wI/AAAAAAAAErU/XYtK99c9_bo/s200/DSC_0985%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Haunted Glamis Castle" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2014/10/monday-exposure-devil-plays-cards-at.html"> The devil plays cards at Glamis Castle</a></span></span><br />
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<br />Coloring Without Bordershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00217261486666011245noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5569670220516132426.post-2135879366553064812015-10-21T17:29:00.000+01:002016-01-14T12:12:15.642+00:00Scotland's plastic bag charge, one year laterYesterday marked Scotland's first anniversary of requiring retailers to charge customers five pence (5p) for plastic bags. And generally speaking, the news is outstanding.<br />
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Over the past year, the number of plastic bags handed out by retailers in has plummeted by approximately 80%. These statistics come from the main supermarket stores, such as Tesco, Waitrose, Morrisons, and so on, though many other retailers have also slashed their plastic bag use. At present, no good figures are available from retailers other than the grocery chains.<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QRpsE07f8OE/Vie5jBxIz-I/AAAAAAAAHMk/yFaEu8ojsV4/s1600/IMG_2804%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="plastic bag / carrier bag / single-use bag" border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QRpsE07f8OE/Vie5jBxIz-I/AAAAAAAAHMk/yFaEu8ojsV4/s1600/IMG_2804%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="plastic bag / carrier bag / single-use bag" width="320" /></a></div>
This 80% reduction indicates a tremendous drop, and it's a huge victory against pollution and carbon emissions. Eliminating roughly 650 million bags per year is amazing, quite frankly. (Actually, once you calculate the amount of plastic in reusable bags and so-called "bags for life," the reduction in plastic is actually closer to 500 million. Still, that's fantastic.) Scotland has followed the lead of Northern Ireland and Wales, which both showed a similar drop in plastic bag usage. England, for its part, began its own 5p charge earlier this month, and we can assume it'll have similar statistics.<br />
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While it's an accomplishment to be cheered, not everything is perfect. <a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2014/11/one-month-later-scotlands-hugely.html">As I noted last year, the retailers saw an 80% drop within the first month of the new charge.</a> After folks adjusted in the first month, however, no further percentage reduction has been achieved. Now, to be reasonable, we all might occasionally forget our reusable bags and need a plastic bag or two in a pinch. But that doesn't account for anywhere near the 150 million plastic bags given out by the grocery stores this past year.<br />
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In other words, there remains a portion of the population undeterred by the 5p charge and who see no reason to change. These are hardcore users of the bags, and changing their behavior will be the key to future reductions.<br />
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So, while the 80% reduction is terrific, there's room to improve. <br />
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With England at last on board, the U.K. finally has started to catch up with the rest of Europe. <br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nRkH625UZKE/VieyO69zHJI/AAAAAAAAHMU/uEeTpd1rvDQ/s1600/IMG_3858%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="reusable shopping bags from Waitrose" border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nRkH625UZKE/VieyO69zHJI/AAAAAAAAHMU/uEeTpd1rvDQ/s1600/IMG_3858%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="reusable shopping bags from Waitrose" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Reusable shopping bags from Waitrose, a major British grocery chain.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />Coloring Without Bordershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00217261486666011245noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5569670220516132426.post-16294865678254790912015-10-10T13:02:00.000+01:002015-10-10T13:02:45.303+01:00New scribbler joining our teamRecently, posting has been kinda . . . sparse . . . here at <span style="color: red;">Coloring Without Borders</span>.<br />
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{<i>Ed.'s note: That's a bit of an understatement, huh?</i>}<br />
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Partly, that's due to our fanatical traveling. We haven't been out of the country, as was our original plan. But we have ventured all over Scotland these past couple of months, <strike>squeezing</strike> <strike>eking</strike> milking our late summer and early fall for every drop of Scottish wonder we haven't yet experienced. And, for good measure, we threw in a long jaunt to southern England.<br />
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Nearly every weekend has been a day trip, overnight trip, or three-day weekend. And that's not counting a horde of midweek trips while the kid is in nursery. Ye olde family car has seen several thousand miles of the U.K. in just the last couple of months. And with British petrol prices, <i>oh my</i>.<br />
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So much travel goodness to share in the months ahead!<br />
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But the travel, remarkably, has been the <i>least</i> of our preoccupations. Several other items on the agenda recently bellied up to the top. Not least, this one:<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7bOkl76EIqs/VhaYVWbfocI/AAAAAAAAHME/BTokl0kKM-w/s1600/IMG_0364%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="ultrasound of the new lil' scribbler" border="0" height="297" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7bOkl76EIqs/VhaYVWbfocI/AAAAAAAAHME/BTokl0kKM-w/s400/IMG_0364%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" title="ultrasound of the new lil' scribbler" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The new lil' scribbler.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
He's scheduled to join us on 29 February 2016. A pretty rare start date, I think. Unfortunately, he gets some flexibility regarding his arrival, though not if it were up to me.<br />
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And yes, he is a he. <strike>Damn it.</strike><br />
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Woe is me. All I wanted was to have girls.<br />
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Our news doesn't end with just the new <span class="Latn headword">bébé. More updates to come. Soon(ish).</span><br />
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<br />Coloring Without Bordershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00217261486666011245noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5569670220516132426.post-46666631003001269012015-08-31T17:38:00.000+01:002016-01-14T12:20:14.267+00:00Monday Exposure: Dancing House in Prague<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bB7dpiPV31M/VeRvRVwLPZI/AAAAAAAAHLg/kWcjwolHNN4/s1600/DSC_6685%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Dancing House in Prague" border="0" height="446" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bB7dpiPV31M/VeRvRVwLPZI/AAAAAAAAHLg/kWcjwolHNN4/s1600/DSC_6685%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Dancing House in Prague" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Prague's modern architectural masterpiece: the Dancing House.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
In a city renowned for its abundance of medieval, Baroque, and Art Nouveau architecture, the completion of the "Dancing House" in Prague caused quite a stir.<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2IvXVQ0c2M4/VeRvOpIUctI/AAAAAAAAHLc/u78hsT5u7GE/s1600/DSC_6689%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="In the Dancing House, Ginger leans into Fred" border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2IvXVQ0c2M4/VeRvOpIUctI/AAAAAAAAHLc/u78hsT5u7GE/s1600/DSC_6689%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.jpg" title="In the Dancing House, Ginger leans into Fred" width="266" /></a>The previous building was bombed by the United States at the end of World War II, and its rubble finally cleared in 1960. Václav Havel, a famed dissident during the nation's communist era, had lived in the building adjacent to the destroyed site since his childhood. Havel's neighbor, architect Vlado Milunić, suggested using the empty corner site for a building in two parts, as though in dialogue with each other.<br />
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After Havel became the Czech Republic's first president in late 1989, the project got off the ground. Milunić eventually secured the services of renowned Canadian-American architect Frank Gehry, who designed the building in his inimitable style.<br />
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Gehry glibly nicknamed the building "Fred and Ginger," referencing dancers Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers. Milunić, on the other hand, saw the building as a reflection of his nation's discourse as it left behind the totalitarian Communist regime and explored its new parliamentary democracy. According to Milunić, Gehry later had misgivings about importing a Hollywood theme to the Prague building.<br />
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Nowadays, most people refer to it as the Dancing House.<br />
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The eight-legged female figure leans in toward the male. Her steel and glass dress sweeps out from her. The male figure is more solid yet still light on his feet, with 99 individually-shaped concrete panels undulating its windows down the block. A steel mop of hair swings in the breeze atop his head.<br />
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The Dancing House, unfortunately, is not a home. Nor is it
open to visitors. It serves, rather, as office space. However, an
upscale restaurant occupies the top floor, offering fantastic views over
the Vltava River toward Prague Castle in the distance.<br />
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Completed in 1996, the Dancing House was not instantly beloved. But now, two decades on, most residents and visitors acknowledge it as a late-20th century masterpiece. It is the newest gem in a treasure-trove of gorgeous Prague architecture.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-z8A6W-XGxtc/VeR8KRG90cI/AAAAAAAAHLw/tLkFeWWHfs4/s1600/DSC_6719%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Dancing House at the end of the Art Nouveau block" border="0" height="384" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-z8A6W-XGxtc/VeR8KRG90cI/AAAAAAAAHLw/tLkFeWWHfs4/s1600/DSC_6719%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Dancing House at the end of the Art Nouveau block" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Dancing House overlooks the Vltava River in Prague.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />Coloring Without Bordershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00217261486666011245noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5569670220516132426.post-33016751314629921222015-08-06T16:59:00.002+01:002016-01-14T12:35:03.605+00:00Busy travel seasonTomorrow we set off for our latest adventure: the far north of Scotland. After an overnight stop in Inverness, we'll head up the eastern coast to the tippy-top of Britain; spend eight nights in the Orkney Islands; take a driving tour across the northern coast of Scotland; head down the northwestern coast with a couple of nights in Ullapool; and then (sadly) return home to Glasgow.<br />
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This trip has me so excited, I'm nearing the realm of euphoria.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-z3f7sBKLpIY/VcN0-uMCHdI/AAAAAAAAHKo/dDKCymPCbdo/s1600/DSC_7551.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Magnet board sailing boat" border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-z3f7sBKLpIY/VcN0-uMCHdI/AAAAAAAAHKo/dDKCymPCbdo/s1600/DSC_7551.JPG" title="Magnet board sailing boat" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We'll enjoy many boat rides among the islands of Orkney.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Trips like this keep me busy for weeks in advance. Planning, planning, planning. I'm a natural planner <span class="st">— or, at least, I was raised to be one </span><span class="st">— and that <strike>curse</strike> trait goes into overdrive when a trip is looming. Seriously, I spend hours upon hours upon hours researching where to go, what to do, events and festivals, housing, eating, photographing . . . and somebody <i>slap me!</i> or else I'll abandon all other activities.</span><br />
<span class="st"><br /></span>
<span class="st">{<i>Ed.'s note: Like blogging, for example?</i>}</span><br />
<span class="st"><br /></span>
<span class="st">Yup.</span><br />
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<span class="st">Besides our twelve-day excursion tomorrow, we've also been gallivanting around elsewhere. For example, we just returned last Friday from five days in Prague.</span><br />
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And a week before Prague, we spent a weekend in the southwestern Scottish borders.<br />
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Three weeks before that, we toured northeastern England for five days, visiting places like Durham, Bamburgh, and the holy isle of Lindisfarne. Even hiked a glorious stretch of Hadrian's Wall.<br />
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A month before that we were in Ireland, part of our three-week visit from Nana and Grampa Bill.<br />
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Next month, we'll likely fly off somewhere. Possibly more eastern Europe. Maybe somewhere warm. Perhaps even northern Africa. <i>Must start researching, must buy guidebook(s), begin internet sear -</i><br />
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<i>{Ed.'s note:</i> <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pAYwGS2HlrY/VcOArNFTTzI/AAAAAAAAHK4/vT86SsQ4-4I/s1600/slap.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="slap gif" border="0" height="360" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pAYwGS2HlrY/VcOArNFTTzI/AAAAAAAAHK4/vT86SsQ4-4I/s1600/slap.gif" title="slap gif" width="640" /></a></div>
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Thanks. I needed that.<br />
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Topping all the planning and traveling, we're in the midst of some professional and personal fermentation. All good stuff, but nonetheless time-consuming.<br />
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How's that for a teaser?<br />
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Hang tight, folks. I shall return <strike>soon</strike> <strike>soonish</strike> <strike>promptly</strike> eventually.<br />
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<br />Coloring Without Bordershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00217261486666011245noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5569670220516132426.post-84203622779581898802015-07-25T11:12:00.000+01:002016-01-14T12:31:24.948+00:00Playing (on) the Old Course at St. Andrews<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BOCce4_uyJM/Va91k8r3q4I/AAAAAAAAHE8/xbWhz390Uug/s1600/DSC_0295%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Putting on the Old Course in St. Andrews" border="0" height="382" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BOCce4_uyJM/Va91k8r3q4I/AAAAAAAAHE8/xbWhz390Uug/s1600/DSC_0295%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Putting on the Old Course in St. Andrews" width="640" /></a></div>
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Earlier this week, the Old Course at St. Andrews finished hosting the 144th British Open. Scotland, of course, is the birthplace of golf, which has been played at St. Andrews since the 1400s. As <a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2014/03/made-in-scotland-curling.html">one of the two sports invented by Scotland</a>, golf looms large in the nation's sporting psyche and draws many thousands of visitors each year to play its famed courses.<br />
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The most famous course, and by far the biggest draw, is the Old Course in St. Andrews. Sportscasters intone solemnly about the Old Course as the "home" of golf. Experts expound on intricacies of Scottish winds and <i>dreich</i> weather, of devilish sand bunkers, of the blind tee shot on the "road hole" at the 17th. Golfers make pilgrimages to the Old Course, scheduling trips a year in advance to secure a coveted slot to play.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Inp-lKbeCP4/VbEDZO0S_UI/AAAAAAAAHFg/O1jVmsv54H4/s1600/DSC_0894%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Holding a flag on the Old Course" border="0" height="265" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Inp-lKbeCP4/VbEDZO0S_UI/AAAAAAAAHFg/O1jVmsv54H4/s1600/DSC_0894%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Holding a flag on the Old Course" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Crazy old man seizes the flag on the 17th hole.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Many folks don't realize, however, that it's easy to play a round on the course.<br />
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{<i>Ed.'s note: Really? Easy to play a round?</i>}<br />
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Okay, that's not quite true. It's easy to <i>play around</i> on the Old Course. We've been to St. Andrews three times, and each time have frolicked on the links.<br />
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<h3>
</h3>
<h3>
Yep, the Old Course is actually a public park</h3>
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On most Sundays, the Old Course is open to the public. Which means you can wander around freely. Take a picnic. Walk the dog. Sunbathe. Throw a frisbee. <br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Cxugij1kUjc/VbEEYQrgG2I/AAAAAAAAHFo/3fErGRlmaeA/s1600/DSC_0366%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Roaming the Old Course with dog and beach ball" border="0" height="384" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Cxugij1kUjc/VbEEYQrgG2I/AAAAAAAAHFo/3fErGRlmaeA/s1600/DSC_0366%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Roaming the Old Course with dog and beach ball" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bring a ball and let your dog roam (under control).</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The right of the public to enjoy the links goes back to a charter set out by an archbishop in the mid-1500s. It's a "right" with limits <span class="st">— for the other days of the week, obviously, the course is reserved for golf </span><span class="st">— but nonetheless you have a good chance of showing up on Sunday and finding the course open.</span><br />
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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="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Tisrj77e0f4/VbESLzcvmuI/AAAAAAAAHF4/PJjSdtw0blc/s1600/DSC_0283%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="The Royal and Ancient Golf Club" border="0" height="212" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Tisrj77e0f4/VbESLzcvmuI/AAAAAAAAHF4/PJjSdtw0blc/s1600/DSC_0283%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="The Royal and Ancient Golf Club" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Royal and Ancient Golf Club at the first tee.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span class="st">Locals and tourists alike stroll the course on Sundays. Some use it as an easy shortcut to get to the beach just beyond its edge. Others play fetch with their dogs. A handful take guided tours, either for an hour (my choice) or up to three hours. Many are content just to snap photos, smell the sea breeze, and head off for ice cream.</span><br />
<span class="st"><br /></span>
<span class="st">As a surprise to many, the Old Course, as well as several other companion courses in St. Andrews, is not controlled by the Royal and Ancient Golf Club (R&A), which sits at the first tee. Indeed, the R&A is only one of several golf clubs with access to the courses. Even local hotels can offer weekend packages and tee times.</span><br />
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<span class="st">Instead, the courses are managed by the St. Andrews Links, a public trust. Unlike a fiercely private club like Augusta with the Masters course, St. Andrews Links must provide access to any golfers with a sufficient handicap (24 for men; 36 for women). Some tee times are reserved months in advance, but nearly half are won by lottery 48 hours in advance. And it's possible to show up in the morning and squeeze into a duo or trio, who are supposed to "warmly welcome" a singleton or duo into their group.</span><br />
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<h3>
<span class="st">Heather, hills, and Hell</span></h3>
<span class="st"><br /></span>
<span class="st">For the times when it hosts the Open, the Old Course tends to get tamed and manicured for television consumption. But at other times, the gorse and heather are allowed to grow a bit. Scottish courses are generally less trimmed and proper than American courses. The rough is actually <i>rough</i>. With few landscaped trees, the wind can gust and swirl. And the frequent rain can leave spots boggy.</span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-55aQ4oYeNq8/VbEXJ99Q-5I/AAAAAAAAHGI/yefmqBDQ7WY/s1600/DSC_0301%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Gorse and heather on the Old Course" border="0" height="382" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-55aQ4oYeNq8/VbEXJ99Q-5I/AAAAAAAAHGI/yefmqBDQ7WY/s1600/DSC_0301%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Gorse and heather on the Old Course" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Old Course can look a bit scruffy.</td></tr>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tIYRgstn9s8/VbEXj_rdsCI/AAAAAAAAHGQ/6bBfyIYDi4Y/s1600/DSC_0303%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="211" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tIYRgstn9s8/VbEXj_rdsCI/AAAAAAAAHGQ/6bBfyIYDi4Y/s1600/DSC_0303%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" width="320" /></a>Moreover, the topography of the land determines the layout of the course. That's the reverse of most U.S. courses, which are designed and then landscaped into place. Scottish courses abound with awkward slopes, inconvenient patches of rough, and undulating greens.<br />
<br />
As one tour guide told me, American courses are manscaped for ease and beauty, while Scottish courses are for <i>men</i>.<br />
<br />
The most interesting feature on the Old Course, however, are the bunkers. All 112 of them. Each one named.<br />
<br />
"The Spectacles." "The Sands of Nakajima." "The Coffins."<br />
<br />
"Hell."<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bDLErAKrZeI/VbEZe_6kmoI/AAAAAAAAHGc/pgIkgY20hRw/s1600/DSC_0298%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Hell bunker on the Old Course in St. Andrews" border="0" height="424" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bDLErAKrZeI/VbEZe_6kmoI/AAAAAAAAHGc/pgIkgY20hRw/s1600/DSC_0298%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Hell bunker on the Old Course in St. Andrews" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The bunker on the 14th hole called simply, "Hell."</td></tr>
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The size, shape, and location of many of these bunkers were not predetermined. In fact, many have arisen naturally over the centuries. A good number were created by, of all things, sheep. Before the introduction of lawnmowers, sheep were often used to trim the course. Those same sheep often burrowed down into the sandy soil to escape the hard-blowing winds from the North Sea, <a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2014/11/monday-exposure-seaside-golf-on-isle-of.html">a process which readily can be seen on the Isle of Iona's golf course</a>. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JkHJCSZ7YD0/VbJUAYP08_I/AAAAAAAAHHM/kYppnZ8Rhvc/s1600/DSC_0775%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Sheep creating bunkers on the Isle of Iona's golf course" border="0" height="424" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JkHJCSZ7YD0/VbJUAYP08_I/AAAAAAAAHHM/kYppnZ8Rhvc/s1600/DSC_0775%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Sheep creating bunkers on the Isle of Iona's golf course" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sheep range freely over Iona's golf course, creating their own bunkers as they burrow out of the wind.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PnnSUP-XFlE/VbJXBlkQ7pI/AAAAAAAAHHk/1rTcKrhNm24/s1600/DSC_0289%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Bunkers on the Old Course" border="0" height="212" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PnnSUP-XFlE/VbJXBlkQ7pI/AAAAAAAAHHk/1rTcKrhNm24/s1600/DSC_0289%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Bunkers on the Old Course" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bunker cluster.</td></tr>
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Some bunker walls on the Old Course reach as high as ten feet, though most seem to be roughly six or seven feet deep. The bunkers are notorious for golfers trying <span class="st">— and failing </span><span class="st">— to escape them by trying to hit over the high walls instead of backwards onto the fairway. One of golf's greatest golfers, Bobby Jones, hit into a bunker on the 11th, made four failed attempts to get his ball out, and simply walked off the course. </span>The famed road hole bunker on the 17th is nicknamed "The Sands of Nakajima" after<span class="st"> golfer Tsuneyuki Nakajima was tied for the lead in the third round in 1978, only to fall out of contention when it took him four shots to get out of the bunker. </span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-sAUCg2s9xiY/VbJW-M-LHwI/AAAAAAAAHHc/FWOnQn8RtX4/s1600/DSC_0299%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Bunker on the Old Course" border="0" height="424" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-sAUCg2s9xiY/VbJW-M-LHwI/AAAAAAAAHHc/FWOnQn8RtX4/s1600/DSC_0299%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Bunker on the Old Course" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The bunker walls are built with stacked turf.</td></tr>
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<h3>
18 holes and not one more</h3>
<br />
Until quite recently, the R&A governed the game of golf worldwide, except for Mexico and the United States. (Nowadays, an offshoot of the R&A jointly issues the "Rules of Golf" in
conjunction with the United States Golf Association.) Back in the 19th century, the R&A began standardizing and codifying the rules of golf.<br />
<br />
One of the most significant reasons for why the Old Course reigns as the "home" of golf stems from its role in standardizing golf courses at 18 holes. In the early days, golf courses could be any number of holes, from five or six to 25 or more. In the 1700s, the Old Course itself was 22 holes, generally played by heading out for 11 holes and then turning around and playing the same holes backward toward the clubhouse. Incidentally, even today there are seven "double greens," which means fourteen of the holes share a green with another hole.<br />
<br />
Eventually, the Old Course's first four holes and its last four holes were deemed too short. The members took these eight shorter holes and combined them into four.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rpEFdlbdnos/VbJl0WnaiNI/AAAAAAAAHHw/TBxGqQnk6ys/s1600/DSC_0928%2B-%2BVersion%2B3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="18th tee marker on the Old Course" border="0" height="265" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rpEFdlbdnos/VbJl0WnaiNI/AAAAAAAAHHw/TBxGqQnk6ys/s1600/DSC_0928%2B-%2BVersion%2B3.JPG" title="18th tee marker on the Old Course" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The tee marker for the Old Course's 18th hole.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
And thus the Old Course settled on 18 holes.<br />
<br />
With the Old Course's role as one of the rotating hosts for the British Open, and the R&A's role<span class="st"> as the governor of golf rules, 18 holes became standardized across the world.</span><br />
<br />
<h3>
Go ahead, strike a pose on the Swilcan Bridge</h3>
<br />
Everyone does it, even the pros.<br />
<br />
Built at least 700 years ago, the Swilcan Bridge originally helped shepherds guide their sheep (remember those bunkers?) over a creek. Today, it guides golfers and tourists over the channeled Swilcan Burn on the 18th hole.<br />
<br />
Champions at the Open pose on the apex of the bridge, usually with the 18th green and R&A building in the background. Jack Nicklaus bid his farewell to golf atop the bridge. Tom Watson, on retiring after his final round, kissed it.<br />
<br />
The pose on the bridge has become an iconic scene, one of the most famous in golf, and of all sports.<br />
<br />
You can pose, too.<br />
<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pj5-gnx6lNY/VbKgsg7dy-I/AAAAAAAAHIc/CCJhZwcMo5U/s1600/DSC_0318%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="382" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pj5-gnx6lNY/VbKgsg7dy-I/AAAAAAAAHIc/CCJhZwcMo5U/s1600/DSC_0318%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ziSrqhn7DL4/VbKgrQMc6JI/AAAAAAAAHIY/gnC3yZyjHgc/s1600/DSC_0311%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ziSrqhn7DL4/VbKgrQMc6JI/AAAAAAAAHIY/gnC3yZyjHgc/s1600/DSC_0311%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<h3>
Conquer the Old Course . . . well, actually . . . er . . . its putting green</h3>
<br />
So you're not a real golfer, but you still want to play on the Old Course?<br />
<br />
You're in luck. To the side sits the Himalayas, a miniature golf course set on the rippling hills of the real Old Course.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DggXg7HI7fY/VbKoMC5dZkI/AAAAAAAAHI0/EX1ii58HRzA/s1600/DSC_0806%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Putting on the Himalayas at the Old Course" border="0" height="424" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DggXg7HI7fY/VbKoMC5dZkI/AAAAAAAAHI0/EX1ii58HRzA/s1600/DSC_0806%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Putting on the Himalayas at the Old Course" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sadly, Nana didn't read the break to the right. </td></tr>
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Operated by the St. Andrews Ladies Putting Club, the Himalayas gives you a taste of playing the real course. Truth be told, making putts on the Himalayas is <i>harder</i> than putting on the Old Course itself. No joke. Your putting line may break both left and right, along with ascending a hill and trickling down the far side. Pin positions change daily, and the crew seems to delight in ensuring no one will make a hole-in-one. Be ready for three putts. And four putts. And five.<br />
<br />
Okay, maybe a six, too. <i>Ahem</i>.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BlO6q9NIGu0/VbNbIjj-DPI/AAAAAAAAHJ0/idkmg-UGYIE/s1600/DSC_0781%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Playing mini-golf on the Himalayas in St. Andrews" border="0" height="424" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BlO6q9NIGu0/VbNbIjj-DPI/AAAAAAAAHJ0/idkmg-UGYIE/s1600/DSC_0781%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Playing mini-golf on the Himalayas in St. Andrews" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grampa Bill didn't make this putt.</td></tr>
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{<i>Ed.'s note: C'mon, admit it. You needed more than six.</i>}<br />
<br />
Fine. I got a <strike>frickin'</strike> eight on a hole.<br />
<br />
The shame.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YRXNzBnZhuE/VbNdVKgkv1I/AAAAAAAAHKA/dDvj_gZTCSo/s1600/DSC_0807%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Toddler with an unorthodox golf grip" border="0" height="424" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YRXNzBnZhuE/VbNdVKgkv1I/AAAAAAAAHKA/dDvj_gZTCSo/s1600/DSC_0807%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Toddler with an unorthodox golf grip" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Unsurprisingly, this unorthodox golf grip does not lead to good putting.</td></tr>
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What'll it cost you to play a round of either nine or 18 holes? All of £2. Note that kids under the age of six are only allowed to play nine holes <span class="st">— which, if you've ever played golf with a toddler, you'll agree is plenty.</span><br />
<br />
St. Andrews is one of Scotland's most charming small towns. It has a gorgeous beach; a fabulous set of cathedral and castle ruins; an ancient university spread through town; cliffside views; a small aquarium; and, of course, golf. For many, the Old Course is a draw all by itself. Whether you walk the entire course, merely pose for a photo-op on the Swilcan Bridge, or play a round on the Himalayas, a stop at the "home of golf" is a must-see if you're visiting St. Andrews. <br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-c_VeIBT4l7A/VbKm6kGg_FI/AAAAAAAAHIs/5UAf-WAoa0I/s1600/DSC_0845%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Studying the lie for a putt on the Himalayas" border="0" height="424" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-c_VeIBT4l7A/VbKm6kGg_FI/AAAAAAAAHIs/5UAf-WAoa0I/s1600/DSC_0845%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Studying the lie for a putt on the Himalayas" width="640" /></a></div>
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<br />Coloring Without Bordershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00217261486666011245noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5569670220516132426.post-52925790439339598232015-07-17T17:49:00.000+01:002016-01-14T12:36:16.812+00:00Loch Ness Monster: "likely a large catfish" ?!?<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4Uv6igZqvA0/VakpTh39xfI/AAAAAAAAHEY/U4bq51OKTIo/s1600/DSC_0712_3%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Loch Ness" border="0" height="424" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4Uv6igZqvA0/VakpTh39xfI/AAAAAAAAHEY/U4bq51OKTIo/s1600/DSC_0712_3%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Loch Ness" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Does a monster lurk in these waters? Or just a really big fish?</td></tr>
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Say it ain't so.<br />
<br />
I'm not a believer in the monster. But if I have to choose between Nessie being . . . umm, well, a <i>monster</i> . . . and not a large fish, then I'm choosing monster all the way.<br />
<br />
Now, though, a leading "expert" on the Loch Ness Monster says the monster is <a href="http://news.sky.com/story/1520208/loch-ness-monster-most-likely-large-catfish">"most likely" a "Wels catfish," which can grow up to thirteen feet long and weigh nearly 900 pounds</a>. In the Victorian era, people added these large catfish to Loch Ness for sport fishing. <br />
<br />
The so-called expert is a guy who, at age 28, gave up his job and girlfriend in southern England and moved to Scotland to search for Nessie. Which he's been doing for the last 24 years.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.reuters.com/article/2015/07/16/us-odd-britain-lochnessmonster-idUSKCN0PQ0U520150716">"I have to be honest. I just don't think that Nessie is a prehistoric monster,"</a> he says. He thinks that many of the reports and sightings fit with the catfish's long curved back.<br />
<br />
He's not saying, however, the mystery of the Loch Ness monster is solved. Rather, he thinks it's the best hypothesis right now. And he's going to continue to search for a better explanation.<br />
<br />
Those of us who prefer the monster explanation have a thread on which to cling. That's because reports of the Loch Ness Monster go back <i>long, long before</i> the Victorians introduced large catfish to the lake. Our earliest reports of the monster go back to the 500s AD, when St. Columba supposedly banished <span id="articleText">a "water beast" in the waters.</span><br />
<span id="articleText"><br /></span>
<span id="articleText">If you want to hunt for Nessie from the comfort of your own home, you have a new tool available. Earlier this year, <a href="http://google-latlong.blogspot.co.uk/2015/04/myth-or-monster-explore-loch-ness-with.html">Google unveiled a way to search the loch via Google Street View</a>, which allows you to search not only above water, but <i>below water, too</i>.</span><br />
<br />
As for me, I'm standing by Nessie the monster. None of these newfangled, evidence-free hypotheses about large catfish for me.<br />
<br />
What do you think? A catfish? Or a <i>monster</i>?<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mTsW3M79FtA/VakpQwmYUTI/AAAAAAAAHEU/7h54soGi6pI/s1600/DSC_0756_3%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Urquhart Castle on Loch Ness" border="0" height="382" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mTsW3M79FtA/VakpQwmYUTI/AAAAAAAAHEU/7h54soGi6pI/s1600/DSC_0756_3%2B-%2BVersion%2B2.JPG" title="Urquhart Castle on Loch Ness" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Urquhart Castle, which lies on the shore of Loch Ness, is an excellent vantage point for spotting <strike>monsters</strike> large catfish.</td></tr>
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<br />Coloring Without Bordershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00217261486666011245noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5569670220516132426.post-71127107196690653372015-07-03T17:46:00.000+01:002016-01-14T12:38:09.360+00:00Glasgow football club's terrifying new mascotLet's all agree, shall we, that a mascot's foremost job is to entice and entertain the wee laddies and lassies at sporting events.<br />
<br />
Not to make them shit bricks.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VEK3VuguX2M/VZaoM1gSUfI/AAAAAAAAHDM/gc1XzIsRlFs/s1600/Partick%2BThistle%2Bmascot%2B3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Partick Thistle football mascot Kingsley" border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VEK3VuguX2M/VZaoM1gSUfI/AAAAAAAAHDM/gc1XzIsRlFs/s1600/Partick%2BThistle%2Bmascot%2B3.jpg" title="Partick Thistle football mascot Kingsley" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The new mascot for Partick Thistle, a football club in the Scottish Premier League. (Photo from the <a href="http://ptfc.co.uk/fans/kingsley">team web site</a>.)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Recently, I've been having a think about choosing a sports team to support here in Glasgow. My wee laddie is on the cusp of starting to follow sports (well, a teensy bit), and hopefully he and I can enjoy attending some games together and maybe develop a rooting interest.<br />
<br />
The obvious two choices are Celtic and Rangers, the dominant sports franchises in Scotland. They're enmeshed in a heated rivalry called the "Old Firm." But as I explained a few months ago, <a href="http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2015/02/lift-alcohol-ban-at-scotlands-football.html">the rivalry between Rangers and Celtic continuously leads to enmity, vandalism, and violent clashes among their fans</a>. It's a sectarian hot mess which I'm determined my laddie will avoid.<br />
<br />
Rugby's a possibility, and we have an excellent pro team in the Glasgow Warriors. However, (1) I'm not much of a real rugby fan, and (2) I'll never allow Jackson to play rugby, just as he'll never be allowed to play American football.<br />
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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="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gG0RuuybMLk/VZauueOBCOI/AAAAAAAAHDc/Aas4ScuaHxg/s1600/Partick%2BThistle%2Bmascot%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Kingsley, the Partick Thistle mascot" border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gG0RuuybMLk/VZauueOBCOI/AAAAAAAAHDc/Aas4ScuaHxg/s320/Partick%2BThistle%2Bmascot%2B2.jpg" title="Kinglsey, the Partick Thistle mascot" width="231" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(Photo courtesy of the Press Association.)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Besides, living in the U.K., we need a football team to support. It's kinda mandatory. Even folks here who don't like sports still have favorite teams.<br />
<br />
So I was pondering Partick Thistle, a local Glaswegian football club that plays fairly close to our home in the west end of Glasgow. Though the team is named after the Partick neighborhood of Glasgow, it hasn't played games there in more than 100 years, instead playing in the scruffier Maryhill region of town.<br />
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The "Jags," as they're called, are a middling franchise which hasn't won the league in decades and regularly struggles to avoid relegation from the top league into one of the lower leagues. Our support wouldn't be based on winning, or fine football, or great tradition. It would be more of getting a taste of the long-suffering, oft-overlooked, perpetual loser vibe. Which comes with, y'know, cheap seats. And gallows humor, a specialty of Scots, particularly our local Weegies.<br />
<br />
And then, last week, came the new mascot.<br />
<br />
Whoa.<br />
<br />
Designed by a Glasgwegian artist, David Shrigley, the new mascot garnered a few plaudits, <a href="http://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2015/jun/23/partick-thistle-mascot-david-shrigley-kingley">with a major British newspaper declaring</a>: "Of course Kingsley’s glowering monobrow, empty eyes and toothy maw look
strange, aggressive, and unsettling. And? What do you expect? This is
what’s called Art."<br />
<br />
Suffice it to say, that's not the majority opinion. <br />
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Twitter has been afire with jokes, memes, and Photoshops of the mascot. Kids fleeing in terror. Comparisons to a demonic Lisa from <i>The Simpsons</i>. People wondering if the away-mascot will be a moon. Questions as to why Freddie Krueger, the clown from <i>It</i>, and other scary luminaries were passed over.<br />
<br />
I have to admit, the team's new slogan <span class="st">— <i>Not So Cuddly Anymore</i> </span><span class="st">— tickles me. Moreover, my thoughts on Kinglsey are slowly transmogrifying from <i>I can't believe they did that</i> to a certain affection. I mean, was the mascot intentionally humorous? Does it matter?</span><br />
<br />
<span class="st">This new mascot might just be genius.</span><br />
<br />
<span class="st">Whaddya think? Should we view Kinglsey as value-added? Or a sign to run away? The screaming toddlers at games could be worth the price of admission. </span><span class="st"><i><span class="st"></span></i></span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IaGQ1zQ2b1k/VZa6_MaKInI/AAAAAAAAHDw/O0Cgw0SslAI/s1600/Partick%2BThistle%2Bmascot--fire.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="379" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IaGQ1zQ2b1k/VZa6_MaKInI/AAAAAAAAHDw/O0Cgw0SslAI/s1600/Partick%2BThistle%2Bmascot--fire.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://twitter.com/adougl16/status/612978834690977792/photo/1">(Link)</a></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-oL2CS9tPgP4/VZa6_HSBQfI/AAAAAAAAHD8/1F48VbI6m-c/s1600/Partick%2BThistle%2Bmascot--kid%2Bfleeing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="422" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-oL2CS9tPgP4/VZa6_HSBQfI/AAAAAAAAHD8/1F48VbI6m-c/s1600/Partick%2BThistle%2Bmascot--kid%2Bfleeing.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://twitter.com/Jack_FFF/status/612991240628473856/photo/1">(Link) </a></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mryrwrHGOO4/VZa6_fJ0EpI/AAAAAAAAHDs/H4TDmsPIJhQ/s1600/Partick%2BThistle%2Bmascot--please%2Blet%2Bme%2Bdie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mryrwrHGOO4/VZa6_fJ0EpI/AAAAAAAAHDs/H4TDmsPIJhQ/s1600/Partick%2BThistle%2Bmascot--please%2Blet%2Bme%2Bdie.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://twitter.com/kamerdyner/status/612985019196436481/photo/1">(Link)</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br />Coloring Without Bordershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00217261486666011245noreply@blogger.com4