summer arrives.

Goodness, I'm still doing a pretty poor job of keeping up with this space. Apologies, apologies. To be fair, I do have quite a bit going on at the moment. There's work, of course, plus playing fiddle for my church's worship band, I finally got my garden sown and my tomato plants in the ground, running, spending time with Jeremy, cooking dinner, walking Cael, making dresses, still unpacking and any other number of sundry tasks that I decide to throw in. But life is good. God is good. There are some new opportunities coming up for Jeremy and I that could change things, but be challenging and good; blessings.

The fireflies are out in full force in the evenings now, they have been for a couple weeks. The first gloaming that I saw their luminescent song playing across our front yard I knew summer had arrived in the mountains. I also realized how long it had been since I had enjoyed the sight of them--lightning bugs don't grace the streets and closes of Edinburgh, though that would make summer dim up in the Highlands that much more magical.

Lately the heat of summer has made its way into the valley, though the nights are still cool and fragrant to temper the summer sun of the daytime. I'm happy to be home, happy to realize and recognize the things that I missed and enjoy them once again.

these mountains mean home.

God is so good. All of the time.


Here's what my lately has looked like, care of Instagram:

lightning bugs lightening up the dim.

i walked for lunch one day at work.

zucchini cakes. {recipe!}

always in awe.

fresh summer south carolina strawberries.

come and sit a spell.

I realize how terribly negligent of this space I have been, and for it I sincerely apologize. I also realize that that apology is more for myself, as I don't really know how many people actually missed my writings here--but I do know how much I missed it. Life has happened, and there have been a multitude of other things that I should be doing, or sometimes could be doing, that this lonely blog has gathered metaphorical dust of disuse. I will make no promises because I know that I probably won't be able to keep them, but I do want to be more of a presence here than I have been of late. I suppose I feel that my life isn't nearly as exciting to write about as it was when we were in Edinburgh-- I'm fairly certain those feelings are well-founded, but that doesn't mean that I've naught to write about. 

In these nine (has it truly been that long?) months since we've been home in the mountains I have missed Edinburgh and Scotland tremendously. But those feelings are always tempered with the sheer delight of being home. These mountains never cease to inspire me; they frequently have me pointing and staring at their beauty and mist-shrouded secrecy like a wide-eyed child. Being away, and being away in such a beautifully similar landscape, gave me a new appreciation for the valley in which I live. Black Mountain is surrounded by green-clad peaks that rise and fall on the horizon, valleys deeply shaded in verdant hues, and all familiarly robed in grey mist and low clouds that hug the lines of the glens and shroud the softly rounded mounts. It really is incredible how similar the landscapes between these mountains and many Scottish ones are. It brings a gladness to my heart to know that my ancestors, who undoubtedly loved the familiarity of their own Scottish and Irish landscapes, made it to a place thousands of miles away that looked, felt, and even smelled like home. No wonder they settled here, no wonder the folk cultures between the highlands of Scotland and the highlands of Western North Carolina are so alike.

It's a grey and rainy morning, and I greet it with a knowing smile and a cup of breakfast tea in hand. Good morning, misty mountains. Good morning, soft grey air that hangs just a bit heavier, envelops the senses and smells so sweet. I hope we can continue this quiet rendezvous. 

contemplation over evening tea.

I sit at my computer as Edinburgh's evening light spills into my living room and down the left side of my body. The evening is cooling down from today's heat wave of seventy degrees Fahrenheit, and the clouds have come to bask in the glorious colors that always illuminate the sky at this time of day. It will still be some time before the sun decides to call it a day, but though the day lasts well into what should be night, it seems that the sunset itself stretches its own life during this time, lengthening that time between times, rather than lengthening the day or shortening the night. I have a trusty cup of tea in hand, well, near hand anyway, I can't exactly type very well (or quickly) while holding my over-sized green Ikea mug, I'm not quite that good.
My dissertation is actually coming along swimmingly, and I'm quite pleased with how well I'm staying on schedule. I'm due to finish the first half by tomorrow, which leaves me the latter half of the month to finish my first draft, and the whole nineteen days I'll have in August before its due to edit and revise, edit and revise, and edit and revise some more. I'm about twenty-two pages in, and over 7600 words down. So I really should be about half way--I'm fairly certain they're going to be pretty stringent about not going over fifteen thousand words, so hopefully I can keep it below that mark without having to exclude things I really wanted to write about. I've gone through ancient Celtic mythology, and then traversed the early Irish literature with Cúchulainn and Fionn MacCumhaill and other notable characters, and now I'm finally getting to settle down with the real meat of the dissertation, the folktales. I just read an article about folk-memory within folktales, and how important is it to remember that while these tales are entertaining and amusing to us now, they once held vital information and vestiges of beliefs and customs held by the people who so lovingly perpetuated them. To the early Celt, it was no stretch of the imagination for people to transform into animals and vice versa, it came with a great knowledge and as a way to continue learning through new eyes and new experiences. There was no rigid barrier between the human and animal forms, and in fact many animals held certain characteristics that mirrors things people saw in themselves, so it seemed not strange at all that there were those who could shift from shape to shape. I love the freedom of folktales, the innocence of imagination, the lack of that-isn't-possible attitude, where we can lose ourselves in a good story of a maiden being turned into a swan for one year, then back to her own form the next year, and a man who, having fallen in love with said maiden, turns himself into a swan to be with her. Why not? Why can't we fancy those things occurring at some where, some time, and transform our own minds from the cold scientific reality of what can only be tangibly proven.
I for one am a firm supporter of imagination, and 'what if?' stories of wonder and romantic notions of shape-shifting and things we cannot explain.
Here's to the unknown.

Caitlin

a journey of a lifetime. [day one]

I'll admit I had pretty normal expectations for this trip. It was with a touristy tour company called Macbackpackers and while I was looking forward to seeing all the of the things listed on the website's description of the tour, I knew I wouldn't get to see everything I wanted to and have to put up with around twenty other people vying for the best photo op and just generally around to get on my nerves. While, yes, there were a few people on the tour who bugged me, it was enormously outweighed by the genuinely likable other people on the tour, the quirky fount-of-knowledge that was our tour guide, Ewan MacLeod, and the splendor of the landscape and scenery that constantly surrounded us. And also while, no, I didn't necessarily get to see all that I wanted (that's most likely an impossibility at this point) we got to see and experience things that were way above and beyond the things I was expecting--which was pretty amazing.
Let me start at the beginning. We left Edinburgh around 9AM on Monday morning and headed north, over the Forth Bridge and into the Kingdom of Fife, all the while hearing stories about the places we were going through, Edinburgh, over the Firth of Forth and the bridge, talking about the origins of 'a botched job' and the unfairness of the moniker. The land surrounding us was already beautiful and just kept on being gorgeous as we passed small towns and large towns, stone house ruins, and little wooden bridges. Our first stop was Dunkeld, a small town on the edge of the Highlands perched on the powerful River Tay with an ancient stone cathedral and narrow village roads. We stopped shortly to see the cathedral and get some lunch--and both were lovely. The Church has been around in Dunkeld for over 1400 years when Celtic monks used it as a base for mission work, it's location at the edge of the Highlands and Lowlands being ideal.

We piled back onto the bus with a whetted appetite for what was to come, yet I know for Jeremy and I, we would have liked to spend a little more time at the cathedral--we only had about a half an hour to see it, get our lunch, and be back on the bus. But a little time is better than no time.
The next stop was Ruthven Barracks ruins, but on the way we went through the pass of Killiecrankie and heard the story of the Jacobite rebel, Bonnie Dundee, who in 1689 routed the English government with only 3500-5000 men and three guns. Dundee used guerilla tactics and the knowledge and familiarity he and his men had of the land and, far outnumbered and up against new warfare technology--grenades among other things, defeated the English gloriously.
Ruthven Barracks were built by the English in 1719 after the first Jacobite rebellion of 1715 in an attempt to get a better rein on the Highlands. The Jacobites set fire to the barracks to rile the English, and what stands today is for the most part what was left by the departing Jacobites after the Rising of 1745.

We then took an unscheduled stop, as our guide called it, at Tomatin Distillery, where we took a tour of the distillery and store house and then sampled it's 'water of life' or uisge beatha as it's called in Gaelic. I'm not a huge whisky fan, but it's growing on me. I can definitely appreciate a hot totty on a frigid Scottish winter night, and it does set a small warming fire in the pit of your stomach that warms you long after you've stopped drinking it. Jeremy, however, is definitely a fan of whisky and thoroughly enjoyed the tour and the taste we got afterwards. We also procured ourselves some whisky fudge, which I for one can most assuredly get on board with.

Checkin' out those legs on the 12 year old. Whisky, of course. Hah.

After the whisky tour we continued on our way up into the Highlands, passing gorgeous scenery after more breath-taking hills and lochs. After a little while, Ewan decided to take us on a couple detours near Inverness, telling us that'd we be a little late into Kyleakin that night, but it'd be worth it. And goodness, was it! Firstly, just outside of Inverness we stopped at Clava Cairns, ancient stone memorials of stacked rocks as well as standing stones in the midst of an old moss-covered forest. It was incredible to behold. I wished it could have been just Jeremy and me there, so other people wouldn't spoil the solemnity and grandeur of the place, but it was amazing enough even with them there. The cairns date back nearly four thousand years and are a Bronze Age prehistoric site of a cemetery. The entire area comprises passage graves, ring cairns, kerb cairns, and standing stones which together make for a beautiful setting and mystical atmosphere with the surrounding forest and rolling hills in the distance. 

Too soon we had to be off again, and this time we were headed for another solemn but infinitely more somber stop: Culloden Battlefield. In 1745, Bonnie Prince Charlie and his Jacobite men took one last stand here, just outside of Inverness on 16 April 1746. Tired and hungry from their long march from England, Charles Stuart's army fought bravely. The battle took place in less than an hour, but the repercussions from this battle can still be felt to this day. Nearly 2000 Jacobites were killed or wounded in the battle while the English Government's losses were substantially smaller. The aftermath of the battle and subsequent crackdown on Jacobitism was brutal and violent, earning the Duke of Cumberland--who saw the deeds done and no quarter given--the moniker of "Butcher". Following this harrowing loss, steps were taken to further integrate Scotland into the Kingdom of Britain; civil penalties were introduced to weaken Gaelic culture, outlawing the speaking of the Gaelic language and the wearing of traditional Highland dress, as well as an attack the Scottish clan system. The short time we had to walk around the seemingly now peaceful battlefield were sobering, and as we neared the large stone cairn towards the center of the field built in memorial to the sacrifice of the brave dead we also passed large stones on either side of the path marking the mass graves of the clans who fought there. It was hard to hold back the tears that sprung to my eyes as I passed the stones and felt the ghosts of men whose lives were cut far too short fighting for their country and their families, fighting for something they loved and believed in whole-heartedly.

We had some time on the bus to regain our composure as we drove through Inverness and toward the western coast toward the Isle of Skye. We had few short stops at Loch Ness then Urquhart Castle, then we drove through the area called Kintail, through some of the most breath-taking mountains I've ever seen--and coming from Western North Carolina, that's saying something. I kept wanting to stop and take photos, but we didn't so the only shots I got were out of the dirty bus window.

Lovely, but the stains on the window really don't do it justice. Anyway, we didn't stop until we reached Eilean Donan castle which is one of the most recognized and photographed castles in Scotland being in such movies as 'Highlander', 'Entrapment', and 'Made of Honor'. Just look at the photos I managed to get and you'll see why.

It was only a little further after this that we were in Skye. After a quick stop at the store for some neccesities, we crossed the bridge to Skye, the Cuillin hills in the distance across the water on our right and the little sea town of Kyleakin, where we were staying, on our left. This was the view we had from our room at the hostel.

We got situated in our cute little house that the hostel was in, and we had the rest of the evening to do what we liked. We got dinner at the local pub, Saucy Mary's, then went walked along the coast. We went towards the castle ruins, which was used by the Vikings in ages past to control the narrow strait between mainland Scotland and that coastline of Skye. 

After meandering towards the castle, we thought we might miss the sunset, so we turned back to walk over the bridge and get some shots of the sun going down behind the Cuillins. There really aren't any words I could use to describe the beauty and peace of that sunset, and I really don't want to even try, because I know that I'll fall far, far short of what we really experienced. Even the photographs don't do it complete justice. 

We walked back into town still awed at what we had just beheld. By the time the sun was completely down, though it wasn't really completely dark, it was around midnight or later. The summer dim was in full effect the nights we were there, it never got fully dark, the light always kept a hold, if tenuous, on nightfall. It was lovely.

We stayed up in the hostel talking and carousing with the friends we had made on the tour, and finally went to bed, in anticipation of what the next day held.

I think I'm going to post this as 'day one' and do day by day posts, because with working on my dissertation and other things I really don't know how often I'll get to work on this. So here you go, day one of our adventure in the Highlands and the Isle of Skye. Hopefully days two and three will be able to be written and enjoyed within the next few weeks.

coming soon.

Just to let you all know that I will be writing up a sizable post about our trip to the Highlands and Skye, but it'll take some time. It was the most incredible trip I've ever been on, I'm still reeling from all the beauty and wonder we beheld. So here's a wee taster to tide you over until I can get it finished. Enjoy!

The overlook at Ruthven Barracks ruins.

One of the stone cairns at Clava Cairns near Inverness.

Eilean Donan Castle.

The castle ruins at Kyleakin, Skye.

The Faerie Glen, Skye.

A 'Hairy Hieland Coo' in his natural habitat.

Jeremy and me at Glen Coe.

And that's not even the half of it. Stay tuned.



Caitlin

away to Skye.

We're saying goodbye to bonny Edinburgh for the next few days, and taking a trip up to the Isle of Skye. Two nights in Skye, one full day, and then on either side the traveling days will be going through Pitlochry and Inverness and then Glen Coe and the Wallace Monument. We're quite excited to get a better (and longer) view of the Highlands and Islands, especially Skye, as it's the one place that everyone tells us we need to see. In Gaelic a common moniker for it is Eilean a' Cheo--the island of mist--so we're looking forward to inspiring landscapes and mysterious mist-covered mornings.

Bye bye for now, fair Edina!

And a very happy Father's day to the best Dad a girl could ask for. Thanks for being an awesome dad, Dad. I love you an incredible amount.


Caitlin

a week back.

Well, it's been a week since we returned from our fantastic trip home and things are going well. I took my Gaelic exam, at least the second half of it, on Saturday afternoon and I think I did quite well on it. We went to a great church service at our church, New Restalrig on Sunday and enjoyed a nice walk through Holyroon Park, even if it did sprinkle on us a bit. We also went to go see Thor at the Omni Center, and thoroughly enjoyed it. It's not Oscar-worthy by any means, but it was a fun and humorous comic book based film to go see on a date with my husband. On our walk home I snapped this photo of the Duke of Wellington horse and rider statue with the Balmoral Hotel in the background.

Taken with my phone.

I've also gone on a cooking kick, where I'm not only making dinner pretty much every night, but also making lunch for the both of us a few days out of the week as well. I'm on this omelette spree right now. On the day of Laurel's wedding, Christal made the both of them (since they hadn't eaten all day, silly girls) an omelette with red bell pepper, spinach, and feta cheese--and I haven't stopped thinking of it since. Today I kicked it up a notch and added quartered plum tomatoes, fresh cilantro, and a hint of lemon juice, and boy was it tasty! I've also got this Moroccan Chicken Tangine recipe that I make quite often, and did again the other night. The spices and flavors of everything together is near divine. That cous-cous is simply a store-bought instant bag boiled with chicken broth and apple juice instead of water, with dried apricots, honey, lemon juice, and sliced almonds. It's absolutely delicious.

Also taken with my phone.

The days are lasting surprisingly long already. I suppose it's not surprising for someone who has lived here during the summer, but when there's still light in the sky at 10:45PM, and the sun starts it climb back into the sky sometime between three and four in the morning and you don't expect it, it's surprising. Up in the Highlands and Islands in midsummer the sun never really completely sets, it's what's called the 'summer dim'. I honestly quite like it as one who loves sunlight, even muted grey sunlight, coming through the windows of whatever room she's in.
It's nice actually, where I was walking to my fiddle class at 7PM in near darkness only a few months ago, now I walk home from my fiddle class in plenty of light and usually able to observe a brilliant light show by the dazzling sunset. Case in point, last night:

Also taken with my phone, though I wish I'd had my DSLR.

There's nothing quite like a spectacularly bright and colorful ending to a drearily cloudy and drizzly grey day is there? Well, Edinburgh sure knows how to do that right.

I'm still plugging away sifting through books and articles for my dissertation, and it's going well, but nothing of substance to really report, other than how lucky I feel to be writing a dissertation for which I must read old Scottish tales and examine Celtic beliefs and deities relating to animals among other things.

Oh, and happy birthday to Josh Foreman and Rachel Foreman Courser!

Caitlin

a day in the highlands and other such happenings.

This past week has been a whirlwind of emotion, of fun, of fellowship, and of sight-seeing. As you know from my last post, my parents came to Edinburgh last weekend to visit Jeremy and me, and to celebrate my birthday as well. It was wonderful not only seeing them, but being able to see Edinburgh through the eyes of a tourist again. I know there's a stigma attached to being touristy, especially when you live in a place, but there's something special about looking at a place through the lens of the expectant and awe-filled tourist. So it was nice to get another glimpse of this amazing city--and Scotland itself--with that doe-eyed wonder of newness and awe. We did a number of things in Edinburgh itself, and also went to Stirling, which was brilliant. On Wednesday we went on a tour at the Whisky Experience at the top of the Royal Mile, and I have to admit that it was quite well done. They have the largest single collection of single malt whisky in the world, which was quite impressive in its back-lit glass shelving. My father and Jeremy enjoyed a tasting session of the four biggest whisky regions in Scotland: Lowland, Highland, Speyside, and Islay. I personally enjoyed my tasting of whisky from the Highland region, a distillery called Ben Nevis--named after the highest peak in Scotland. I can't say the same for my mum's tasting, she declared that it just tasted like rubbing alcohol. She's never enjoyed alcohol though, so to expect her to enjoy a single-malt was unfair. I'm proud of her near-perfect ability to not screw up her face at each sip of her glass though. Way to go, Mum.

A very small part of the largest whisky collection.

The lads' whisky tasting.

The lads tasting their whisky.

Then on Thursday my parents booked a trip that Jeremy and I would have never done ourselves--as 'locals' that like to think they can't do anything touristy at the risk of exposing our real state of long-term and awe-struck tourists desperately trying to be locals (mostly for want of money to do touristy things). Ahem, anyway, my parents booked a day trip to the Highlands with Haggis, yes Haggis, Tours. We piled into a bright yellow midi-bus at 8AM on Thursday morning that had bright red letters on the side that said 'Wild and Sexy Tours'. Luckily, it was easy to forget what the bus looked like when you were inside of it. Also luckily, it was actually a really great tour. Our guide was really funny and engaging, and really knowledgeable as well--full of stories and history. We drove up through the countryside to Glencoe, the site of the infamous and terrible Glencoe massacre by the Campbells of the MacDonalds. We stopped there briefly, then continued on up to Fort Augustus and the southern end of Loch Ness, and we went on a cruise of the loch and hoped for a glimpse of Nessie, but we had no such luck. But Loch Ness is gorgeous and daunting, at nearly a mile deep and the waters as black as a moonless night. I have no problems imagining a kind of 'monster' able to keep itself hidden and elusive down there. After we left Fort Augustus we came back down the other side of the Highlands, and saw the Glenbogle house for anyone who has seen the show 'Monarch of the Glen'. We went through Perthshire, and had a quick stop in Pitlochry. Back on the bus and around the city of Perth, then finally through the Kingdom of Fife and over the bridge back to Edinburgh. It was amazing to see the differences between the west and east Highlands, but to also recognize the beauty and glory of both--and all in the same day to boot. It was nice to finally get up to the Highlands, if only for a wee taster session, and Jeremy and I are looking forward to finally get up there to spend some real time in the countryside camping, walking and backpacking over hills and through glens.

Glencoe.

How'd you like that house in Glencoe? Yes, please.

Loch Ness.

The east Highlands. Any Western North Carolinians recognize something familiar?

 My dad even connected with his Scottish roots and bought a Harris Tweed flatcap. That, and drank plenty of Scottish single malt and beer. Aye, he's got a little Scotland in him all right.

The handsome Scotsman.

I'm still trying to pin down my elusive dissertation topic, which seems to have taken a dive into murky waters to imitate Nessie--but I'm confident in my ability to track it down and force it to succumb to my will, and unlike Nessie, it will be broken and tamed. Hah.

On a more serious note, Jeremy and I received word last night that our pup, Cael, was taken to the emergency vet yesterday (mostly because it was the weekend, and no other vet was open) due to his unexplained whimpering and crying, and inability to move around very well. Drew tells me that the vet can't find anything specifically wrong yet, and worst-case scenario it could be a slipped-disc. So please, please pray for Cael, and the vet looking at him, and also for  Drew and Kelsey who are having to deal with all of this. Pray for Jeremy and me and well, because as it was hard to be away from the Cael before, it's even harder knowing that he's in pain and scared, and I'm thousands of miles away from him. Cael is on bed-rest of a couple weeks, and on some pain-meds so pray for his speedy (and honestly, pray inexpensive) recovery as he'll be going back to the vet in a week's time to see if he has improved.

Pray for this little guy.

Hopeful,


Caitlin