changing my fate.

This happens every year, I resolve to be more present in this space at the beginning of January, and for that month I'm totally on it, writing and posting fairly often. Then it tapers a bit in February and then all of a sudden boom I'm gone, and there are one or two stray posts here for the remainder of the year. It seems like things are going that way this year too, but I'm here to change my fate in this space!

It's a little odd to think how much my life has changed since I began writing in this blog, and I mean at the very beginning when it was still Black Currant Thoughts and my blog titles were the kind of tea I was drinking while I sat writing that particular post. I was still finishing up my undergrad degree at Montreat; in fact, beginning this blog was an assignment in the computer class I had my last semester - a class I'd been putting off and should have taken my freshman year. From there I went on to a sundry of different jobs, Movie Gallery being the worst, being a nanny to four-month-old twins having the steepest learning curve, and working at Biltmore being the most fun and enjoyable - not to mention a sprinkling of photo shoots and weddings in and among those - all before Jeremy and I packed up and moved our lives to Edinburgh, Scotland for a year. Still before Scotland though I encountered my first real tragedy, a close friend from high school was taken from this world in an early morning car accident that shocked and saddened so many. Ryan's death, and that of my grandfather shortly thereafter, taught me to live each day in the knowledge that it could be my last, or the last of any of those around me - not in a depressing way, but in a way that allows me to love freely and care deeply in each moment. I hope she'd be proud of the way I'm riding my wave in life.
Then Scotland captured us with her beauty, heritage, and culture. We are so fortunate to have been able to follow our dreams and live for that year in a place like Edinburgh. It was good for our souls, our marriage, and our individual collection of experiences too. Scotland has always been part of our heritage, but now I daresay it will always be part of our own stories and our family's future as well. Our children will grow up knowing and loving that place as we do now.
We've travelled, we've moved, we've had numerous different occupations, we've had a few different family things going on, but the biggest most life-changing occurrence, of course, has to be the arrival of our own sweet Josephine MacLaren - almost a year ago now! I can't believe that next month she'll turn a year old! I cannot believe how much I've changed because of her, and how much pure joy she brings to me on a daily basis. Even when she crawls behind the couch and thinks it's a game to run away from me so I have to move the side-tables to get to her and pull her out. Even when she poops or pukes or drools on me. Even when she screams when I have a headache. I love her, with every fiber of my being and love who her presence has made me into. I love being her mum, and love watching her grow and learn and change.

So all in all, this space has seen a lot of changes and a lot of being events in our lives, and I intend to keep recording them here, even if I don't get to write as often as I'd like, I'll continue to make it a point to come back here and update. Thanks to all who have been with us since the beginning, and all our new friends and readers too. Love to you all.

Caitlin

degree.

I guess a lot can be said for the fact that I have a Master's degree, regardless of what occupations are or aren't being thrown at me because of it. It's an awesome thing that I was accepted into a postgraduate program, went to Scotland for a year, and came home having earned a Master's degree. I know that I chose my degree on what some might call a whim, but it was the culmination of years of curiosity and passion about Celtic studies. It's just frustrating not having anything substantial to show for it now. Perhaps I will in the future; in fact, I'm kind of counting on that. But part of me wishes I would have gone for something a little more practical--like Museum Studies, so that I might have a legitimate claim to having an interest in being a curator. But at the same time I hear my good friend, Ellar, talk about her MFA in progress at VCFA, and all the fiction writing experience she's getting with huge names in the YA Fiction world, and I wish I'd maybe done something like that. That's what it boils down to though. All the degrees I coulda, shoulda, woulda, all come down to the same thing: writing. I can do that with or without a Master's degree. But I have one, and one that inspires creative writing at that. I just have to do it. I need to buckle down, stop wondering what might happen if I had done something else, and realize that I have a Master's degree in Highland Studies because I'm supposed to. I have a Master's in Highland Studies, and I spent a year in Scotland learning, studying, and experiencing that culture and taking in such incredible opportunities. I don't know what I will ultimately do with my degree, but I know that I have it for a reason and I've wasted enough time wondering if I've done the right thing. I need to write. I already know that is what I am supposed to be doing. I know it--even if I doubt it sometimes. I have been given the experience and resources for some amazing stories, why don't I write them?

As a wise friend once told me: "Don't doubt in the dark what God has shown you in the light."

No more doubting. More doing. More writing.

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. 

new year. new ideas.

A friend of mine just posted about her New Year resolutions, except she called them goals rather than resolutions. I liked that. I like the idea that I have things that I'm striving toward as this new year dawns, not just things that I've resolved to do, period, and then as soon as I leave off one of them I feel like a failure. These 'resolutions' or goals, are works-in-progress. And that makes them feel more doable, and makes me feel less completely worthless when I forget one day or just don't have the energy another.

I have great hopes for this year, and even bigger question marks, but bottom-line is that I know that I've been blessed beyond any bit of what I deserve, and I cannot wait to see what God has in store for Jeremy and me this year. Over the last couple days I've been thinking about some of the goals I have for this year, and have jotted down the ones I think should be mentioned, that way I can come back this time next year and not see what I've failed at, but how close I've come to accomplishing some goals and how I've blown others out of the water.


Caitlin's Goals for 2012 [in no particular order]


1. Create a budget, and stick to it.
  - I've come close to doing this one right before. I never quite got into the swing of things since we've been back from Scotland, and while Jeremy and I are both making decent money I know I need to be saving. I want to create a smart and doable budget, and really be able to keep up with it, while saving the maximum amount possible per month.

2. Quiet time every morning.
  - I've always been pretty good at finding excuses not to carve out a time each day for devotions, for reading the Bible, and spending time in prayer. Now that my biggest excuse is now non-existent (not having a regular schedule; I now work Monday through Friday 9AM to 5PM), I need to get over myself and wake up just one half hour earlier than I normally would. I know this is doable, and I know it will enrich every aspect of my life.

3. Exercise regularly.
   - Before we left Edinburgh I was consistently working out three days a week, and it felt good. I know that there are other things I'd like to do that regularly rather than working out, but I need to be exerting myself in some kind of cardio activity and muscle toning at least a few days a week. I don't know what that exercise will be yet, but in light of the 15K I signed up for in May I should probably run.

4. Eat healthier.
  - I don't eat particularly unhealthily now, but I know I need to put in more of an effort. I'd like to start juicing daily and doing smoothies (but those involve appliances that I do not have), so some kind of regular raw veggies and fruit would definitely do me good.

5. Set aside one night a week as 'date night' with Jeremy.
  - This one doesn't need to be anything fancy or even necessarily cost money, but I want us to do something once a week out of the ordinary and outside of our normal watching movies on Netflix in the evenings.

6. Play and practice my fiddle regularly again.
  - I've been depressingly negligent of my fiddle since we moved home. I've been using the excuse of its natural volume when I play and the fact that we basically live in someone's house to deter me from playing, which is fair enough. But I want to purchase a mute for my bridge and begin playing again. I've still got my ten year goal in mind.

7. Write more and write often.
  - I need to be writing every single day, period. Whether it's in my journal, on my blog, or creative writing and development for my novels, I need to be putting pen to paper, so-to-speak.

8. Work on creative writing at least three times a week.
  - You may think this falls under number seven, but I would probably find my way around working diligently on my stories if I didn't specify a set amount that I need to write per week. This is very important and I need to be writing creatively as often as possible.

9. Read.
  - I got a Kindle for Christmas (thanks, Jeremy!) and I definitely want to read more. But I also want to continue academic reading related to my Master's degree. I want to try to read some amount of something Highland Studies-ish once a week, because I think I have a while to go before truly becoming a Master of Highland Studies.

10. Begin studying Gaelic again.
  - I do not want to lose my Gaelic, and I enjoyed learning the language too much to just let it go to waste. I want to start studying up on it again, to continue learning it and to create opportunities for me to use it. Tha mi ag iarraidh Gàidhlig ionnsachadh a h-uile seachdain! (I want to study Gaelic every week.)


Bliadhna mhath ùr!  Happy New Year!



Caitlin

done and done.

I can hardly believe it, but it's true. My dissertation is officially finished and turned in, there's nothing else I can add to it or change about it, even if I wanted to--and I don't, I'm done. It feels pretty good, I have to say, though there's still the small detail of whether or not I'll get a good mark on it or not. I'm pretty certain I'll graduate though, regardless of my mark (unless I wildly fail it, which I'm not anticipating), so that's pretty cool. I'm going to be a Master of something--though to be fair, I don't know that I'll ever feel comfortable calling myself a Master in Highland Studies, there's so much more for me to learn.
Here's a little peek into what the last few days looked like for me:

Hard at work, editing and honing my argument. And adding in a key element to my analysis that I didn't consider to add until this past Monday. Whoops, haha, at least I got it all in there.

I was rewarded for my diligence when Jeremy called me to tell me to look out our window at the beautiful sunset playing on Arthur's Seat and the surrounding crags. Just breath-taking.

I finished it around lunchtime on Thursday afternoon, and opted to go ahead to get it printed that day instead of fretting and overworking it that night and standing in a queue for ages waiting to get it printed and bound at the print shop. I was rather excited to be done and see it looking to lovely and professional, hence my goofy grin.

My pretentiously long and academic dissertation title, and cover page. Hah, it's not as complicated as that title makes it sound. Ooer, but don't I sound smart?

Today with my two bound copies, ready to go turn it in. A bit more subdued than Thursday, you know, being a respectable academic or some-such nonsense, and wearing my academia (and glarey) specs.


Yep, so that's it. It's done, and all I can do is wait. Well, that, and pack and pull details together so Jeremy and I can go home in two and a half weeks. Here we come Western North Carolina!

Thanks for all your encouragement and prayers during this whole process. It's been difficult and trying, but overall it's been so good, and so good for me. And this year here has been brilliant for Jeremy and I as well, we've grown and matured and learned to appreciate one another in completely new ways. All of it has been more than a blessing.

Here's to two and a half more weeks in this amazing city, let's soak up as much as we can before we're spirited away back home.


Caitlin

diagon alley.

When Jeremy and I were out and about in Edinburgh the other night to go see Ed Byrne, we decided to walk back home through Grassmarket and take a jaunt up to the castle to see if we could hear the tattoo going on. We heard the pipes from the tattoo before we even reached Grassmarket. We stood below impressive castle rock, gazing up at the huge new stadium seating and listened to the show.
On our way back down to Grassmarket, we took a close that we hadn't taken before. We found the clear remains of an arched door in the wall, probably once leading to a garden, that was all stoned up and filled in. I had my umbrella with me in case it rained, and couldn't help channeling a little bit of Hagrid.

Hah. Nothing happened unfortunately. But it's quite easy to imagine Harry Potter happenings and places around Edinburgh since Rowling birthed the idea of HP while living here. I mean, come on, doesn't Cockburn Street look like it could be Diagon Alley?

Or Victoria Street for that matter. Or any number of curvy, whimsical looking streets in Edinburgh.



Anyway, I'm still plugging away at my dissertation. Due the day after tomorrow! Ahh. On to more editing and perfecting.


Caitlin


Oh, thanks to all who have been praying for us and our imminent move. We just got word yesterday that our landlord wants to buy pretty much everything we offered her from what we've furnished the flat with. We basically just have to clean, pack and get out at the end of the month now (among other little things, but it's such a load off!). God is good!

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

four years later.

It was four years ago today that I made the best decision of my life.
It was four years ago today that I embarked on a journey full of love, laughter, tears, and life.
It was four years ago today that I married my best friend.
It was four years ago today that I married Jeremy Edmund Foreman.

I am so blessed to have spent these past four years being married to the love of my life, my best friend, my sweetheart, my one choice of the men on this earth. I will carry his heart with mine for all of my life in this world and beyond it. 


Here's a look back on our anniversaries past:

Year One. With our sweet pup, Cael.

Year Two. At Craggy Pinacle.

Year Three. At Biltmore Estate.

Year Four. In Dollar Glen on the way to Castle Campbell.

Our anniversaries just keep getting better and better. I can't wait to see what year five has in store for us. I love you, Jeremy, thanks for loving me back so well. 


Our day in Dollar Glen and the hike up to Castle Campbell was some of the most fun and jaw-dropping beauty I've had and seen here--which is saying something. It was amazing to spend it with the one person I really ever want to spend those moments with. 
We stopped to have our piece at a picnic table on the way into the glen. Jeremy, the romantic that he is, left our mark on the table.

An amazing day, an amazing husband, and we love each other an amazing amount. I am truly blessed.






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.

an afternoon in Roslin, and an evening on Arthur's Seat.

Our original plan with one of Jeremy's two days off this week was to go to see Holyrood Palace and Holyrood Abbey here in Edinburgh, but after we got ready and went to double-check the website about entry fees we saw that it is apparently closed for another week or so, I suppose someone important is in residence just now, since the Royal Family still uses the palace for their personal uses.
Anyway, so with that plan out the window we decided to use the afternoon to hop the bus down to Roslin to see Rosslyn Chapel and the small town of Roslin itself. It's quite an easy jaunt down there, just taking the number fifteen Lothian bus for about thirty minutes and it spills you out right in the middle of Roslin, the chapel being another five minute walk away.
It was a gorgeous, sun-filled day, warm with sweet breezes that come just as the heat from the sun begins to get under your skin. We walked down to the chapel, catching glimpses of it from behind fences and stone walls--yet the glimpses we caught made us pause to think whether we wanted to spend the seven or so pounds each to go in yet, since it is such an easy trip. The whole outside of the chapel was covered with scaffolding for renovations, and since they don't allow you to take photos inside, the outside was going to be my only opportunity to document our visit--and scaffolding is seriously a pain to photoshop out. So we decided to walk around the grounds of the chapel, outside the stone boundary wall, and enjoy our afternoon in the country.

After spending sometime laughing with each other and sighing at the views we walked the five minutes back into town and sat in the outdoor area with a couple pints and more laughing and more talking was the order of the afternoon. As usual, it was so nice to get out and just be with each other, to talk, to laugh, to reminisce, to make plans, and mostly just to love each other.

After our pints in the 'beer garden' area of the original Roslin Hotel we crossed the road to another little hotel with a bar area. This time we sat inside, in a large sun-let room with dark greens and blues in the plaid carpet and rich window treatments. I picked the table in front of the back center window which illuminated us like royalty--especially since we were the only two in the whole pub. When Jeremy brought our drinks, he also brought a chess set that was sitting on the bar just waiting to be used. I personally dislike chess with a pretty good-sized passion, though I've tried liking it with a brother and sister-in-law who love it and are avid players--I'm really just completely rubbish at it, seriously, rubbish. But Jeremy made me play anyway, and though I nearly lost within the first five moves (Jeremy found a way for me to block him) and then I proceeded to make stupid moves for the rest of the game and get frustrated with myself and the game--all the while muttering under my breath 'I hate this game'--despite all of that, I enjoyed myself. I enjoyed being the only two people in the whole bar, sitting at the far window, back-lit by the afternoon sun, and playing a game together. Again, the idea of just being together seems to simple, but it is just so good too.

We came back to Edinburgh then, another thirty-minute bus ride past the Pentland Hills, through Morningside and Bruntsfield, back to Tollcross where we had decided before we left to stop at another pub we had been meaning to try: The Cloisters. This pub is pretty much attached to the beautiful cathedral that is nestled right next to it, and the building may be just as old as well. Apparently, they have an amazing selection of cask ales which Jeremy enjoyed sampling, and the atmosphere in that place made them taste somehow better. We had our own little table tucked away in a corner between a window looking out onto the cathedral and the spiral staircase that lead to the basement. We stayed there a while then finally ventured back home to have dinner.

After dinner, and an episode of 'Game of Thrones', Jeremy looked at me then out the window and said, "It's gorgeous out there. You wanna hike up Arthur's Seat and watch the sunset? If we leave now we'll easily catch it."
How could I say no? So we packed up a backpack of essentials and made our way down to Holyrood Park, crosses its green spaces and paths and made our way up the extinct volcano of Arthur's Seat. We decided to stop just below the summit so we could have a little area to ourselves instead of having to share the area with the other people who thought it'd be a good idea to go up to watch the sunset. It was lovely to watch the colors deepen and the light fade as the sun set behind the city and the Firth of Forth--oddly setting to the North here. We could see all the way to the Highlands, their high and craggy peaks visible beyond the Forth Bridge. As the sun disappeared, the coolness of the night became more of a noticeable chill and we pulled on our jackets, and Jeremy pulled out a flask of whisky for a nip to keep us warm. It really is amazing what just a mouthful of whisky can do for your body temperature.
When the sun was gone and only remnants of its brilliance were left streaking the sky in a kind of tribute to its former glory we began the hike back down.

It was a truly lovely day, and one that Jeremy made sure to point out was all for the most part spur-of-the-moment, yet just as full and exciting as any day planned weeks ahead of time. Sometimes his laid back attitude definitely does trump my planned and organized one in ways that I don't expect, but love to see.


Caitlin

[Skye still coming soon, it's ridiculous how many photos I took and how much we saw, I want to do it all justice.]