#215 Scottish Villages

Ballatter, Scotland

This blog may seem tp go in strange directions, but they really are related—our big move, my trip with Parkinson’s Disease, and the Scottish village photos.

The first factor controlling life for us today is our selling of the 6th Avenue house we’ve lived in for more than 35 years and moving into our new abode in Hope Village (still in Canby). As I write this we’ve just signed our share of the closing papers and are waiting for the buyers to sign their share. The house was on the market for only five or six weeks (they all blur together) and we are getting a fair price for it. The next part of the move has been putting all our accumulations into the newer smaller unit. Downsizing seems a universal problem for our neighbors in the village. Advise like, “if you haven’t used it in [fill in a time period] throw it or give it away,” is hard to adopt if you’ve lived by “I’ll keep it because I’m sure I’ll need it” for years and years. Anne is a real trooper and has the bedroom nearly box free, the kitchen completely useable, the hallway walkable, and at least some floor in the new garage v\visible. We are even able to start joining in some village social functions such as Tuesday 10 AM Coffee in the Community Room. We are beginning to enjoy our move to senior living.

Factor number two controlling our lives is my new life with Parkinson’s. Besides Carbidopa Levodopa (the gold standard medicine for treating PD symptoms), the fact that the new house doesn’t have even one step is a godsend for me—it seriously takes away a falling hazard it was getting difficult to face in our three story home. As degenerative as PD is it is also interesting—as soon as one symptom is controlled or adapted to, another pops up. This morning my left elbow started hurting seeming for no reason. Stiffness or rigidity needs my attention now. Slowness (bradykinesia) is my main motor symptom—who knew I’d need a short hospital railing on my bed to help me get in or out or rollover. Through it all my most Important help is Anne, who has had to take on new tasks I can’t do or giving new help to me when I can’t pull my pants off by myself. Beyond an Angel is she!

The move and PD have limited our travels (but not our golf). So, it’s back to the files for travel photos for this post. I’ve mostly used my photos for slide shows or for prints to sell at art fairs or highland games. So, I look at the blog as another way to share photos I like. We wish we could be in Scotland this year, but since that’s not possible, let me give you a picture of Scottish village life we’ve enjoyed in the past.

HOUSES

Early in our trips to Scotland we learned that houses weren’t always numbered, they were named. We spent most of our time in Merlindale B&B in Crieff and learned that the name was just a pleasant sounding name. Glenearn House was next door with Arduthie (the owner, Nigel, didn’t know where the name came from) down the street. Galvelbeg was a B&B we stayed at when Merlindale wasn’t available. When we got home from that trip we put up a sign naming our little white house in Canby Fionabeg, which mens “little white” in Gaelic. We have yet to name our Hope Village house.

Callander

Kinneuchar

Fortingal

STREET SCENES

One of our biggest joys of our travels in Scotland was wandering the busy streets of the villages, towns and cities. It was like being in mid-century America with crowds of bustling people and cars, doing their daily shopping and other local business.

Elgin

Linlithgow

Health and Safety weren't amused. 

A good night's work.

Peebles

Dornoch

Crieff

Crovie

RETAIL

In the time we spent in Scotland particularly in Crieff, we became familiar with many local shops and eateries. We became known in many of the shops like the Corn Exchange in Crieff—a local whisky and specialty shop. Andrew would help me find special whiskies to bring home which weren’t available in the states. He’d help Anne find new local gins to taste. It was always a difficult task to decide which four bottles, the legal limit duty free, we’d bring home from a trip. Difficult, yes, but we were up to the task.

Crieff

Kingussie

Crieff--gone now, Covid got him.

We also serve who sits and wait.

Stirling (Duh)

Callander

J L Gills, the Corn Exchange, Crieff

NIGHT

As much as we enjoyed our days in Scotland, touring and golfing, we also enjoyed the nights. In the spring the daylight lasts well into what we considered evening and in the fall night came early with its special glow. In the evening too there was usually the special smell of peat fires warming the homes.

Ballatter

Crieff

Crieff

BLACK AND WHITE

As colorful as the village scenes are they also fit the black and white photo world. That was the premise to my small coffee table-style book Scotland in Black and White: 90 Photos, which is still available on Amazon. Sorry for the shameful commercial plug.

Comrie

Dunkeld

Crieff

Kirkwall, Orkney Islands

NEXT: It's anybody's guess.

#214 Paths and Roads

 

The topic for this post—late as it is—is paths and roads, the highways and byways we choose or are forced to travel. This topic is dictated by the current path Anne and I have had to travel recently. It’s a path littered with boxes and bags filled with too many things—extra clothes, dishes, books, photos, hats and much, much more. We’ve chosen to move into a single floor home from a three story home and thus have been forced to downsize from three bedrooms and a basement to two bedrooms and a den (small bedroom size but no window). And neither of us have been good about throwing or giving things away.

With fantastic help from Anne’s sister, her husband and son, Anne’s cousin from Redmond, and various friends, we’ve managed to get everything out of our house of 38 years and put it somewhere in storage, the new garage, or the new house. Now comes the next hard task of deciding what we need to and can keep, and what must go to family, friends, and favored local charities. It’s long road, but we’ve chosen it and are happy with our choice.

That leads me to the path for this post. I’ve poured over files of photos (digitals are easy keepers) for interesting paths and roads we’ve taken in the past. Hopefully, the paths and roads I find in may files will remind you of choices you’ve made and paths you’ve traveled. And may those bring back good memories for you. 

I’ll begin and end our travels with parts of the poem “The Road Not Taken” by Robert Frost. In between I hope to present some salient comments to guide our way.

The Road Not Taken   by Robert Frost

“Two road diverge in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both…” 

A younger Anne hiking the Cascade mountains in the early 1970s.

The Birks of Aberfeldy

A darling belle and lovely Scottish bluebells.

A typical path through an old Scottish forest.

“It’s not the destination, it’s the journey.”  —Ralph Waldo Emerson

Danger Road in Colorado.

The beech road into Drummond Castle near Crieff in central Scotland.

Birch forest in Cairngorm National Park, Scotland.

The Bridge to Nowhere on Isle of Harris, Outer Hebrides -- the road literally ends after you cross the bridge.

“Roads are a record of those who have gone before.”  —Rebecca Solnit, writer,   historian, activist

Dunnattor Castle

The climb to the fifth green at St Fillans GC, Scotland--many attempt it, few make it.

Heavy traffic on the Glen Lyon road. Guess who has the right of way.

Leadhills, Scotland, is one of the highest villages in the UK.

“People don’t take trips, trips take people.”  —John Steinbeck

Branklyn Garden path, Perth, Scotland.

Highland Gate

Farm road in Sma'glen, Scotland.

Tree tunnel near the east coast of Scotland south of Aberdeen.

“I may not have ended up where I intended to go, but I think I’ve ended up where I intended to be.”  —Douglas Adams

The myriad of paths at Zabriskie Point in Death Valley.

A unique path at Johnston Creek near Banff, Alberta, Canada.

Glen Lyon, the longest glen in Scotland.

Rush hour in Glen Quaich, Highlands.

“If you don’t know where you’re going, any road will get you there.” Lewis Carroll

Path into the Red Cullins, Isle of Skye.

This path leads to the oldest capital of Scotland, Dunadd.

Yewe shall go no farther!

“…Two roads diverged a wood, and I

I took the one less traveled by

And that has made all the difference.”

NEXT: Scotland May Be Calling