Showing posts with label Nana. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Nana. Show all posts

Tuesday, July 19, 2016

Dormant . . . but soon awakening

This blog has been hibernating.

Well, that's not quite right. It hasn't been sleeping 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.

In truth, my blogging energies have been *temporarily* wrenched away toward other things. For example, I present Exhibit A:

Dormant baby as a Sour Patch Kids sorting table
Sleeping, and arrayed with pretty colors, but not becoming a butterfly. Though he seems occasionally to metamorphosize into a Sour Patch Kids sorting 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.

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 drudgery joy of entertaining an infant. Hey, keep that screaming kid away while I sit here and . . . blog.

That's not a good look as a father, I've found.

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 Kate has 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.

Jackson at the climbing gym
The photo we used for Jackson's birthday party invitation.
Just because we have bright and shiny Exhibit A doesn't mean we can neglect Exhibit B, the older kid. Jackson started school in January when we moved from Scotland to England, 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).

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.

(Ed.'s note: Who gives homework to kindergarten-age children?)

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.

Nana and Grampa Bill take Jackson to school
Nana and Grampa Bill take Jackson to school.
I mean, isn't the point of the vacation to be a break from schooling?

But I digress.

What else has wrenched away my blogging hours? We've had the requisite visits with the grandparents (Exhibit C) for the new baby, with some de rigueur sightseeing thrown in.

Exploring the grounds of Berkeley Castle in Bristol, England
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.
Similarly, Exhibit D: travel 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 or nearby in the Cotswolds, or even further afield in Cornwall.

Kynance Cove in Cornwall, England
The captivatingly beautiful Kynance Cove in Cornwall, England.
Jackson levitates above the beach in St. Ives, Cornwall
On a beach in St. Ives, we learned he can levitate!
But all those things — new baby, older kid starting school, visitors, and travel — pale in comparison to the giant time-suck time waster recipient of my devotion. Exhibit E is . . .

Kate, of course.

Kate
Who, me?
Now, I'm not saying she doesn't allow me to blog while she's home. That wouldn't be accurate.

It's not quite true she would frown upon it.

But let's say that life goes more smoothly if I'm putting my full efforts and energy toward her the baby and our chores and our family activities. Fewer eye rolls and sighs.

(Ed.'s note: She will deny this. Vociferously.)

Ohh, I know.

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.

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?


Friday, February 5, 2016

(Nearly) favorite family photos of our second year in Scotland

Choosing 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.

From more than 20,000 photos during our second year — the capacity of digital cameras and memory cards are a blessing and curse, too — 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.

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 would 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.

Anyone wanna lay odds on how long it takes me to compile our third year photos?

Hiking on the Trotternish Peninsula on the Isle of Skye
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.
On the beach in St. Andrews, Scotland
On the beach in St. Andrews, during one of five trips we made to the fantastic city during our first two years in Scotland.
Face painting
It's an alligator, but Jack decided it was a dinosaur. Because toddler.
Narrow lanes of Anafiotike in Athens, Greece
Kate and Jackson exploring the narrow lanes of Anafiotika, at the base of the Acropolis in Athens, Greece.
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.

Kate and Jackson skiing
While visiting Kate's family in Colorado, Jackson got his very first chance to ski.
Resting in Kilmartin Glen
Taking a breather while exploring the prehistoric sites in Kilmartin Glen, Scotland.
At the Edinburgh Zoo
We watched some monkeys groom each other at Edinburgh Zoo . . .
Mock bug-eating at the zoo
. . . so Jackson had to groom and eat the bugs in Kate's hair.
Baking cookies
Baking cookies on Valentine's Day. Could I have made this more like a Betty Crocker advertisement?
Mattie at Jedburgh Abbey
Few dogs in the world were more loved than Mattie; I still feel her loss keenly. Click on this link to see her adventures in Scotland.
Mattie was a full-fledged member of our family. Jeez, do we miss her.

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 spent three weeks back in the States, which has been our only trip home during our first three years abroad.

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.

Cup and ring marks on a stone at Clava Cairns
My sister-in-law, Rachel, helps draw your attention to this cup and ring marked prehistoric stone at Clava Cairns in Scotland.
Oh!
"Oh!" says my niece, Rosalie.
Hiking atop the Quairaing on the Isle of Skye
Enjoying the view atop the Quiraing on the Isle of Skye.
Nana at home in the States
My mom, whom Jackson calls "Nana," at home in North Carolina. Looking pretty good for an old broad who'll turn 70 this month.
Jack in a hat
Jack in a hat, after watching a performance of The Cat in the Hat at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival.
Sledding in Colorado
If only she had seen this sign, perhaps my niece, Macie, might've fared better.
Off to the races
A race back to the car in freezing temperatures.
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.

Wearing a kilt in Glasgow
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.
Performance art in Dryburgh Abbey, Scotland
One of several dozen white-robed performance artists strode mysteriously around Dryburgh Abbey in the Scottish Borders.
Horse crash at the Blair Castle International Horse Trials
This harrowing horse crash resulted in a broken leg for the rider. Check out the full sequence of the horse crash, which took place over six seconds.
Horse jumping at the Blair Castle International Horse Trials
A more scenic view of horse jumping at the Blair Castle International Horse Trials, with Blair Castle as the backdrop.
Military band at the Royal Edinburgh Military Tattoo
A military band performing at the Royal Edinburgh Military Tattoo.
Bagpiper at the Three Sisters in Glencoe, Scotland
A busking highlands bagpiper at the Three Sisters in Glencoe, Scotland.
Enough about all these random people. Let's finish off this collection of almost favorite family photos with pictures of, well, actual family.

Posing in front of the Acropolis in Athens, Greece
Posing in front of the Acropolis in Athens.
Chocolate tasting at Skelligs Chocolate on the Kerry Peninsula, Ireland
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.
A snack at Krispy Kreme
A North Carolina delicacy.
Lunch break in the fields above Helensburgh, Scotland
After visiting Charles Rennie Mackintosh's famed Hill House we took a hike in the hills above Helensburgh, Scotland. Here, a pause for lunch.
Kate and Jackson on a boat
On a boat from Iona to the Treshnish Isles to see puffins.
Jackson posing within the Kenmare Stone Circle in Ireland
Sometimes, even Kate takes pictures. Jackson reclined in the Kenmare Stone Circle in Ireland.
Hiking through The Whangie in Kilpatrick, Scotland
Hiking through The Whangie in Kilpatrick, Scotland.



Want to see more? Here are the favorites from our first year in Scotland:


 http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2014/07/favorite-photos-of-places-we-visited.html


Favorite photos of places we visited our first year




 http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2014/07/nearly-favorite-photos-of-places-we.html

(Nearly) favorite photos of places we visited our first year




 http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2014/06/favorite-family-photos-of-our-first.html

Favorite family photos of our first year in Scotland




 http://www.coloringwithoutborders.com/2014/06/nearly-favorite-family-photos-of-our.html

(Nearly) favorite family photos of our first year in Scotland




Saturday, July 25, 2015

Playing (on) the Old Course at St. Andrews

Putting on the Old Course in St. Andrews

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 one of the two sports invented by Scotland, golf looms large in the nation's sporting psyche and draws many thousands of visitors each year to play its famed courses.

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 dreich 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.

Holding a flag on the Old Course
Crazy old man seizes the flag on the 17th hole.
Many folks don't realize, however, that it's easy to play a round on the course.

{Ed.'s note: Really? Easy to play a round?}

Okay, that's not quite true. It's easy to play around on the Old Course. We've been to St. Andrews three times, and each time have frolicked on the links.

Yep, the Old Course is actually a public park


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.

Roaming the Old Course with dog and beach ball
Bring a ball and let your dog roam (under control).
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 — for the other days of the week, obviously, the course is reserved for golf — but nonetheless you have a good chance of showing up on Sunday and finding the course open.

The Royal and Ancient Golf Club
The Royal and Ancient Golf Club at the first tee.
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.

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.

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.

Heather, hills, and Hell


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 rough. With few landscaped trees, the wind can gust and swirl. And the frequent rain can leave spots boggy.

Gorse and heather on the Old Course
The Old Course can look a bit scruffy.
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.

As one tour guide told me, American courses are manscaped for ease and beauty, while Scottish courses are for men.

The most interesting feature on the Old Course, however, are the bunkers. All 112 of them. Each one named.

"The Spectacles." "The Sands of Nakajima." "The Coffins."

"Hell."

Hell bunker on the Old Course in St. Andrews
The bunker on the 14th hole called simply, "Hell."
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 process which readily can be seen on the Isle of Iona's golf course.

Sheep creating bunkers on the Isle of Iona's golf course
Sheep range freely over Iona's golf course, creating their own bunkers as they burrow out of the wind.
Bunkers on the Old Course
Bunker cluster.
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 — and failing — 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. The famed road hole bunker on the 17th is nicknamed "The Sands of Nakajima" after 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.
Bunker on the Old Course
The bunker walls are built with stacked turf.

18 holes and not one more


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.

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.

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.

18th tee marker on the Old Course
The tee marker for the Old Course's 18th hole.
And thus the Old Course settled on 18 holes.

With the Old Course's role as one of the rotating hosts for the British Open, and the R&A's role as the governor of golf rules, 18 holes became standardized across the world.

Go ahead, strike a pose on the Swilcan Bridge


Everyone does it, even the pros.

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.

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.

The pose on the bridge has become an iconic scene, one of the most famous in golf, and of all sports.

You can pose, too.


Conquer the Old Course . . . well, actually . . . er . . . its putting green


So you're not a real golfer, but you still want to play on the Old Course?

You're in luck. To the side sits the Himalayas, a miniature golf course set on the rippling hills of the real Old Course.

Putting on the Himalayas at the Old Course
Sadly, Nana didn't read the break to the right.
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 harder 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.

Okay, maybe a six, too. Ahem.

Playing mini-golf on the Himalayas in St. Andrews
Grampa Bill didn't make this putt.
{Ed.'s note: C'mon, admit it. You needed more than six.}

Fine. I got a frickin' eight on a hole.

The shame.

Toddler with an unorthodox golf grip
Unsurprisingly, this unorthodox golf grip does not lead to good putting.
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 — which, if you've ever played golf with a toddler, you'll agree is plenty.

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.

Studying the lie for a putt on the Himalayas