Birthday Brunch Pictures
The Saturday after Aidan’s birthday, we had a little brunch at our flat to celebrate. I made blueberry muffins, cinnamon rolls, and a fruit salad; a friend brought some banana bread and we put out bagels and cream cheese and juice. Three other little people and their parents came, along with a couple grown up friends, and we sang happy birthday and enjoyed some story books and balloons. You can see pictures on Flickr!
to celebrate, let’s get stitches
Well, he didn’t actually need a stitch, but unfortunately the evening of Aidan’s birthday was a rather bloody one. He tripped and fell, landing surprisingly roughly on his forehead. Much blood was shed upon him and upon his clothing, as well as Tim’s. He has a nasty cut (not bad enough for a stitch; we had it checked at the local hospital) and some bruising. He’s going around today with a white bandage on his head. Poor 2 year old boy!
Happy Birthday to Aidan!
If perchance you should call us (before 2 p.m. according to Eastern Standard Time–we are 5 hours ahead of EST and Aidan goes to bed at 7 GMT) and ask to speak with Aidan, and ask him how old he is, he will tell you proudly–”I’m TWO!” We celebrated this morning with some presents and singing (he asked us to sing Happy Birthday twice!) and will have a small birthday brunch with some of his little friends (and our bigger friends, their parents) on Saturday morning. I am definitely more excited about this day than Aidan is, although he is quickly catching on to the idea that an object wrapped in colored paper is likely to contain something desirable.
vacation photos are up.
If you like, you may view them at the flickr site (see link on the right).
one more time, honey
It’s a truism that children do what their parents do (and say what their parents say) but I am amused by Aidan’s current habit of calling Tim and me “honey.” He says, “Aidan walk please honey,” “more rice cracker, honey,” and so forth. Another thing he says that he appears to have picked up from me is “one more” or “just one more” (one more time, one more cracker, etc.). Last night, after several particularly enjoyable rounds of bouncing and tossing with Dad, we chuckled to hear him say, “one more time, honey.”
Flickr
To the right you will notice that under “blogroll” there is a link to my Flickr page. This is where I will post most photos. But the disclaimers are two: 1. my Flickr page is disorganized and out of order, because I have a terrible time figuring out how to organize it, and 2. I tend to be horrible about updating my photo page because that involves multiple wires and electronic devices and voltage adapters, and it can be overwhelming. But don’t worry, Mom, I’ll do it eventually–if only for you. =)
Scottish Holiday
Last night we returned from a week-long vacation (“holiday,” as the British say) in which we visited the central and western highlands. (We rented a car for the trip; those of you who know that we’re carless may be wondering how we managed a toddler and loads of luggage on public transport.) We spent four nights in a youth hostel in Aviemore and two in a B&B in Inverinate, near the Isle of Skye. It was a thoroughly enjoyable time all around, and Tim has become quite proficient at driving a standard transmission on the left side of narrow, shoulder-less roads–even some single lane roads on the Isle of Skye!
Having lived in Scotland nearly a year (it’ll be a year exactly tomorrow, in fact) without having explored it much, it was great to get out of the beautiful but tiny town of St Andrews and see more of this lovely land. We were struck with just how beautiful so much of Scotland is–it was delightful simply to drive through the country and look around.
We started our trip with a visit to Blair Castle, Scotland’s most visited historic home, where we saw the evidence of many hunting trips and much taxidermy, beautiful furniture, paintings, tapestry, and needlework, as well as spectacular gardens and trees. From there we made our way to the hostel in Aviemore. This was the first time I had stayed in a hostel, and I think it won’t be the last. Although I was happy to get to the B&B for the sake of a regular (not bunk) bed and en-suite facilities, being able to cook, to do laundry, and to sleep in a clean (if spare) place at such a great price was good. And when you stay in the spartan place first even a modest (if lovely) B&B seems very luxurious.
Our first full day in Aviemore, we went to the Highland Wildlife Park. It’s a kind of a cross between a wildlife preserve and a zoo; you stay in your car and drive through dirt roads to enjoy close views of bison, red deer, and other large wild animals, and then there is a considerable walk-through portion where mostly native British animals are featured. I appreciated how the design of the enclosures was meant to mimic closely the animals’ natural habitat, but struggled a bit when I noticed that the way they feed the animals is meant to be similarly close to their natural way of eating. By which I mean to say, when we watched the wolves being fed, I was amused and horrified to overhear the feeder proclaim “in the States they give them frozen meat; it’s quite bad actually” as she hurled freshly killed bunnies over the fence to the snarling wolves, who caught them and crunched them whole. Difficult to imagine THAT happening at the Bronx Zoo. I kept trying to shield Aidan from the scene, but he saw what was happening and seemed unfazed.
The next day we visited both branches of the Highland Folk Museum, and in the afternoon, after Aidan’s nap, we walked around Loch Morlich. Aidan kept shouting “go for HIKE, go for HIKE” to anyone who’d listen, before, during, and after the hike around Morlich. That night, instead of cooking at the hostel, we ate at a fish & chips place that had been highly recommended. The cook came out and had a chat with Aidan, who unaccountably began saying “eat ice cream!” even though he has never had any. After our meal, the cook came back with a complimentary ice cream cone, of which Aidan was afraid. We encouraged him to taste it, and he eventually did, but declared it “too cold” and looked disgruntled. This is the same child who cries if I run out of cucumber slices for him to eat.
Thursday included a trip on the Cairngorm Mountain Railway, which, predictably, appealed greatly to Aidan; in the afternoon, we hiked partway around the lovely Loch en Eilean. We finished that hike Friday morning, and left for the west coast that afternoon. Friday and Saturday were spent roaming around the mountains of the west coast and Skye (alas, mostly in our car, as it was then and there that we saw the heaviest rain we’ve yet to see in Scotland) and Aidan made great friends with the hostess of our B&B–he was calling her “Grandma” by the time we left Sunday morning.
And now we’re back in St Andrews, after taking the long way home and enjoying yet more beautiful countryside and mountains, and I think we’re all feeling refreshed. Tim’s back at work on his thesis, Aidan’s settling back into his routine, and I’m trying to put the flat back together and get back to normal life without forgetting how nice it is, sometimes, to get away to somewhere glorious.
warmth!
After a very wintery summer season, we are enjoying a rare Scottish heat wave! Well, it’s not what most Americans would consider a heat wave, but it is warm enough to wear shorts and sandals and feel quite comfortable doing so. Amazing, as there were plenty of days in July and August when I was wore wool sweaters and shearling slippers in the house. (You are reading that correctly.) Today Aidan and I celebrated by going for a run (wearing shorts!) in the morning and taking a walk in the afternoon. It is glorious, and something to hold in mind during the short, dark, chilly days of winter. Scotland can be beautiful!
golf course
On Sundays in St Andrews, the Old Course is open to the public to take a stroll on. We’ve enjoyed doing just that the past two Sundays. Aidan has particularly enjoyed this outing, especially after Tim found an old golf ball for him to play with. We throw the ball, and Aidan chases after it, and then throws it again, and so on. The first week we did this he must have walked for nearly a mile without tiring. (He slept well that night!) It’s a beautiful place to walk and it reminds what a lovely place we live in. How thankful we are to be in St Andrews!
walk gravel please!
Aidan loves to walk on gravel. This love, which borders on obsession at times, began several months ago when we were in Greenport, New York, visiting Grandma and Grandpa LaMothe. Grandma would take Aidan down to the Mitchell Park Carousel, which is surrounded by paths of gravel, and Aidan would gleefully prance around on the gravel, stopping only to examine bugs or smile at passersby. Today, Tim, Aidan, and I tried to make the most of some unusually warm weather by eating our lunch on the cathedral grounds. Aidan, however, refused to sit on the grass to eat with us, preferring instead to run toward the gravel paths that weave through the cathedral lawns, exclaiming loudly, “walk gravel! walk gravel please!” He ended up eating nothing for lunch; Tim and I ate ours and then walked with him on the gravel for a while, which seemed to satisfy his gravel desire, because when we reached the end of the path, he was happy to get back in his stroller. Gravel. Who would have thought?
