IN THE MAGNIFICENT HIGHLANDS

Cathy's photo from the moving car

MadChauffer, where were we in the Highlands on the narrow road with mountains looming on both sides and the occasional lake round the bend when we had to say "Oooh!" and "Aaah!" on command? I have to use Cathy's pictures when I write, because I have none, because my camera did not work taking pictures from a moving car window. Can you send me a map with the approximate location of that ride? It was achingly beautiful.

And lo! MadChauffeur sent me the map with the arrow pointing to the road we traveled, the one-lane road with two-way traffic, which we sped along amidst the breathtaking views. We made a couple of stops, but not many. Cathy and I were careful to "Oooh!" and "Aaah!" at the proper time, when MadChauffeur raised one hand to point out the view, because we feared consequences of non-compliance, such as, "Get out of the car!" MC's other hand stayed on the wheel, TBTG.



(Not the correct map. See update below.)

To ride along with gorgeous mountains closing in on either side, with only the occasional break for a glimpse of a sparking blue lake was, for me, an indescribably joyful experience. I'm waxing lyrical, because the beauty was nearly beyond what I could bear. I love mountains, and I've visited quite a few mountainous areas. The Highlands are right up there with the best I've seen.



Another photo by Cathy from the moving car

Although stopping places were few and far between along much of the road, we passed a small number of areas with parking, but our driver did not stop. Finally, we paused to stretch our legs, and, I'd guess, to give the driver a bit of a rest. The man can drive.

Below is a picture of Cathy taking a picture of the beautiful landscape. We seemed to do quite a bit of snapping away at one of the others snapping away.



Keep in mind that for much of the ride that day, and every day, so long as MadChauffeur drove, the sound of soul music filled the car.

Look below. I have tears in my eyes, as I type. Ah, it was beautiful.

 

I hand it to MadChauffeur. He stopped for the deer, as you see below...

 

...and for the waterfall.

 

At the pub where we stopped for supper, I ordered a wild boarburger, which was quite tasty, but too large for me to clean my plate. Nevertheless, I chose to share a dessert with Cathy, but she'll have to say what we ordered, because I've forgotten.

From right outside the pub, last, but not least, what you've all been waiting for, a photo of a Rowan tree.

 

The perfect end to a perfect day, yes?

UPDATE: I'm clearer now on where we were when we took the ride that was, to me, the most beautiful of all. It seems that MadChauffeur sent me the wrong map. Not that the scenery wasn't beautiful where the arrow points on the map he sent me, but that was not the place I referenced in my email. Below are Google maps showing the area around Glencoe to which I referred and the location of the pub where we ate supper. Thanks to Cathy for her help in getting the location right.

 

 

The Clachaig Inn where we ate supper.

MARGARET AND HELEN ON THE BOOK BURNING

God Loves A Good Book Burning:

Margaret did we really expect anything less? Religious intolerance has defined the Republican Party for almost 30 years now. A culture of life. Family values. America’s Christian Heritage. The sanctity of marriage. Gays in the military. Prayer in school. A mosque in Manhattan. For goodness sakes, the current leaders of the Republican Party (Palin, Limbaugh, and Beck) have been screaming about a Muslim family in the White House for months now. It was only a matter of time before someone called for a good ‘ole fashion book burning. Does it really matter if that book is the Quran instead of The Catcher in the Rye?

There is just one thing I haven’t been able to figure out yet. How many more groups of people does the Republican Party have to hate before its members finally call for a new platform? Those signs they carry at their rallies are getting pretty full. The print will have to be pretty small at the next Beck rally to fit God Hates Gays, Jews, Blacks, Muslims, Clinton (him and her), the Liberal Media, Obama, Pelosi, French Fries, Activists Judges, Environmentalists, Feminists, Mexicans, and small puppies. Maybe they can just print up a sign that simply says God Hates Everyone Who Isn’t Like Me. (My emphasis)

And trust me Margaret. The minute Matthew puts this on that web page blog of ours, a bunch of jack-asses are going to tell us that God hates us too and we shouldn’t generalize all Republicans like that. Well all I have to say is if it quacks like a Duck and sets a Quran on fire then it must be a Republican.

Read the rest of the post at the link, and read the comments. I love Margaret and Helen.

Thanks to Ann at Facebook for the link.

UPDATE: The book burning is cancelled.

THIS IS A LOVELY STORY ABOUT ME

One day, long, long ago, there lived a beautiful woman who did not whine, nag or bitch. (That would be me...)

 

But that was a long time ago and it was just that one day!

Thanks (or no thanks?) to Susan S. Or is the story about her?

ATTITUDE

There once was a woman who woke up one morning, looked in the mirror, and noticed she had only three hairs on her head.

'Well,' she said, 'I think I'll braid my hair today.'
So she did and she had a wonderful day.

The next day she woke up, looked in the mirror and saw that she had only two hairs on her head.

'H-M-M,' she said, 'I think I'll part my hair down the middle today.'
So she did and she had a grand day.

The next day she woke up, looked in the mirror and noticed that she had only one hair on her head.

'Well,' she said, 'today I'm going to wear my hair in a pony tail.'
So she did, and she had a fun, fun day.

The next day she woke up, looked in the mirror and noticed that there wasn't a single hair on her head.
'YAY!' she exclaimed. 'I don't have to fix my hair today!'

Attitude is everything.

Be kinder than necessary, for everyone you meet is fighting some kind of battle.

Live simply,

Love generously,

Care deeply,

Speak kindly, and,

Pray continually.

Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass...

It's about learning to dance in the rain.

It's not what you gather, but what you scatter that tells what kind of life you have lived.

Thanks to Ann.

AFTER KATRINA - THE REST OF NEW ORLEANS

From the Daily Episcopalian:

Like most who visit New Orleans, its identity for me was defined by the French Quarter: the food, the music, the funky vibe of walking the streets. For seven years we lived three hours from the Crescent City, two and half if you didn’t stop. Becky and I spent several anniversaries there with a common agenda: wake up to a leisurely courtyard breakfast, walk the streets, eat lunch, head to antique shops for more walking, eat dinner, and walk the streets some more. The walking was a feeble attempt to balance the amount of calories consumed (forgot to mention the stops at Café du Monde for beignets). On other trips we took our children and widened the experience with the Children’s Museum and Aquarium.
....

The drive into the city drive was like some 1950s sci-fi movie. Unlike the horror of the Mississippi coast which was leveled by Katrina, New Orleans’ damage was primarily flood. Thus, one drove by buildings which were standing, yet empty. One saw apartments and shopping malls basically intact with empty parking lots as far as the eye could see; neighborhood after neighborhood, which from the interstate appeared intact, with no people or movement. It was surreal.

As we exited the interstate and drove along the streets, a severe silence overtook the van. Our friend described aspects of the devastation and the contexts of the neighborhoods. There was still no electricity in most of the flooded areas, no working stop lights, no working street lights. The debris of the yards and streets offered faint suggestions of the internal debris of those who once lived there.

The Very Reverend Todd Donatelli is dean of The Cathedral of All Souls in Asheville, North Carolina.

Read the rest over there.

I'm grateful to Todd for his account of his visits to New Orleans before and after Katrina and the federal flood. I'm grateful also for the help from Todd and his church community in the aftermath of the disaster.

The people of my native city have come a long way, but they still have a long way to go.

Thanks to Ann Fontaine for the link.

THE SCOTTISH EPISCOPAL CHURCH INTRODUCES INCLUSIVE LANGUAGE

From the Telegraph:

The new form of worship, which removes words such as "Lord, he, his, him" and "mankind" from services, has been written by the church in an attempt to acknowledge that God is "beyond human gender".

Episcopalian bishops have approved the introduction of more "inclusive" language, which deliberately removes references suggesting that God is of male gender.

Traditionalists have criticised the changes on the grounds that they smack of political correctness and because they believe they are not consistent with the teachings of the Bible. The alterations have been made to provide an alternative to the established 1982 Liturgy, which, like the Bible, refers to God as a man.
....

"The changing of God language is a little tricky," admitted Rev Darren McFarland, convener of the church's liturgy committee.

"It is then that opinion is much more divided. We have really tried not to mess around with the descriptions of God in the biblical text. But what we want to see is generous language when it comes to gender. God is above and beyond human gender.

"We are not saying God is not masculine. God is also feminine. The problem is trying to use human language to describe the indescribable.

"The bishops have permitted these changes, people do not have to use this form. But we are trying to honour the breadth of descriptions of God in a way that's helpful to the church and its membership."

In truth, I have never been as bothered by non-inclusive language in worship services, in the Bible, or in prayers as some of my fellow Christians, both female and male. (I know "Horrors!", but that's my story.) In my mind, I rather easily make the leap to inclusive language, but I understand those who have problems with the constant references to a masculine and masculine-only God.

In my own writing, I've mostly moved away from references to God as "he" or "him". Even before the days of PC, I thought of the Holy Spirit as more feminine than masculine, with the "Wisdom of Solomon" and Lady Sophia in mind. Correcting the worship service to gender-inclusive makes for awkward phrasing at times, but, on the whole, I think the change is good. Of course, certain of my fellow Christians see the change to gender-inclusive language as earth-shaking.

I wonder.... I hope the change is not the aftershock from the travels of the Mad Three to Scotland. As my correspondent who sent me the link said, "Grandmere, you take one trip to Scotland and controversy ensues." With due respect, Ann, I won't bear the entire responsibility on my shoulders. After all, we were three.

Thanks to Ann V. for the link.

THE MIDGES OF SKYE

On our last night in Skye, after we returned to our B&B, Cathy and I watched "Milk", the story of Harvey Milk's life and death. We chatted and commented on blogs on Cathy's Notebook while drinking a dram or two of single malt, which I had never liked before, but for which I acquired a taste due to Cathy's repeatedly putting a glass of the drink in front of me. She made me do it. You know how that is and shame on Cathy.

While we were walking from the car to the house, we slapped at a few midges. Once we were in my room, we felt more bites, and I killed more than a few of the annoying insects that I saw on the bed. Where were they coming from? We couldn't have carried that many in with us when we entered the house. I checked the windows, and both were closed.

After Cathy left, I slapped at the remaining midges on the bed and got ready to go to sleep. One of the bed pillows was on the love seat in my room, and when I looked at it, it was covered with midges, like the picture above! My picture is a crude Photoshop, and the size of the midges is way out of proportion, as the insects are tiny, but it gives you an idea of what I saw. I gently picked up the pillow and placed it on the floor outside the door to my room and went to bed. What attracted the large number of midges to the white bed pillow?

Not for a second did I believe that all the midges were out of my room, and sure enough, after the light was out, I was still slapping at them as they bit me. When the midges were not actually biting me, I imagined them biting me, so, as you can guess, I slept very little that night. Unfortunately, the next day was a marathon travel day, beginning early in the morning, and involving ferries and trains after we turned in our car.

The B&B was lovely; the rooms were beautiful, and each morning we were served a delicious breakfast. I doubt that the large number of midges in my room was the fault of the proprietors.

From Wyrdology:

Midge Facts

The midge, also known as "midgie" or "midgy", is a tiny flying insect of the genus "culicoides". There many thousands of known midge species, of which only a few bite. One of the most ferocious biters is the Highland Biting Midge, Culicoides impunctatus. This is known in Gaelic as "Meanbh-chuileag" which means "tiny fly".

That's about right.

BLONDE POLE DANCER

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GOTTCHA!!
May you always have enough HUMOR in your life! I knew you couldn't resist scrolling down to look!!!

Don't blame me. Blame Doug.

THOUGHT FOR THE DAY - GOOGLE'S BOUNCING BALLS

The bouncing-all-over-the-place, multicolored balls on the Google homepage will be Google's gift only for today, right? They are driving me nuts.

UPDATE: Doug sends us this link as a possible explanation.

DINING ON THE ISLE OF SKYE

On the Isle of Skye, Cathy (the gourmet cook) and I dined out at a fine restaurant every day or evening. We savored delicious meals at several wonderful restaurants. We were turned away, and not very politely, at the Harbour View Seafood Restaurant in Portree, but we finally had an excellent meal there another day after we make a reservation. From the description of the menu:

Oysters, lobsters, crab, langoustines, clams, mussels, monkfish, scallops, sole, salmon, trout... a truly outstanding selection of the purest, freshest, most nutritious and delectable seafood.

What's not to like?

 

Harbour View Restaurant

After we were turned away at the Harbour View and another restaurant, whose name I've forgotten, we ended up at the Restaurant @ the Rosedale, where we shared a seafood platter for two, which was quite tasty and which we cleaned in a very short time and licked the platter, too.



Check out the gull in flight that I caught in the picture of the Rosedale.

The crowning dining moment came when we dined at The Three Chimneys Restaurant, pictured at the head of the post, in the back of beyond "on the shores of Loch Donvegan" on the Isle of Skye. Cathy knew about the restaurant from an earlier visit to Scotland, but she'd missed out on having a meal there, so she was determined not to miss again. In fact, Cathy was so determined that she made the reservation for our meal a good while before we left for our travels.

Ever since eating outstanding Scottish seafood at the Western Isles B&B in Mallaig on the Isle of Mull and then eating langoustines that I would kill for, from the water right into the pot, at the Glenuig Inn in Arisaig, I gorged on les fruits de mer for most of the rest of the trip. I'm from south Louisiana, and I'm quite accustomed to excellent, fresh seafood, so for me to praise Scotland for its seafood is a compliment beyond measure.

By the time we went to The Three Chimneys, my fingers were so scratched and cut from grappling with shellfish that I knew I had to give them a rest and time to heal, so I chose venison for my entrée. I don't remember what Cathy ordered. In the midst of a dining experience like that offered at The Three Chimneys, who cares what others are eating unless you want a taste? I went at the food with gusto, my readers, as did my travel companion. It's refreshing to dine with another woman who appreciates good food and enjoys it without constant worry about calories. Time enough for that when the holiday is over.

For dessert we both chose the "Dark Chocolate Ganache with Blairgowrie Raspberries & Issy’s Crème Fraîche", which came in two courses, which confused me a little. First came the palate cleanser, the berries and cream and then the dark chocolate ganache. I express my profound gratitude to Cathy for insisting that we have a meal at the restaurant. Without a GPS, I can't imagine how anyone finds their way to the place. One day, I'd like to spend a few days in one of the "6 spacious bedrooms next door in The House Over-By", but I expect that will never happen. But then, I thought the trip to the Northwest of Scotland would never happen.

 

The harbor at Portree

 

A sea gull with pink feet at the harbor in Portree.

And MadChauffeur told us the Isle of Skye was boring! We now know that he is not infallible.

UPDATE: From Cathy in the comments - a reminder:

We had damn good fish and chips in Portree too - that's worth mentioning. (And in Mull, but that's maybe another story?) It took a while to get it at that place at the top of the hill in Portree, only because there was such a long queue though, but when it finally arrived it was everything fish and chips should be.

Indeed, we did.