England and Scotland for fun
Day 5 - Wednesday, April 27 -
England/Scotland
Didn't get to bed last night until early this
morning (like nearly 2 a.m.) for the packing (I am in SOOOO much
trouble next Monday night if I had this much trouble fitting it all in
last night -- and dragging the suitcases to the tube station this
morning)(Francesca was giving me her own Mediterranean evil eye -- HEY!
I wanted to call a cab! -- and also complaining "I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU
GOT A FREE KRISPY KREME!" except you have to say it outloud with the
really long e's for her Sicilian accent -- I CAHN'T BELIEEEEVE YOU GOT
A FREEEE KRISPEEE KREEEEME).
The train ride up was swell, except for the orthodox
Jewish father with three children in the seats/table ahead of me,
chattering away (and him reading them children's stories in a sing-song
voice -- made it difficult for me to attempt to read my Monarch of the Glen library book --
I don't think I got to page 4) for most of the trip.
Especially cruel that he was getting them all psyched about York, and
what to do when the train pulled in to York, and I just knew they were
getting off soon and I'd have some peace, but when the train pulled in
to York, they pulled out lunch and started eating! Happily they
got off in Newcastle and left me some quiet time (it was a "quiet car,"
which meant no electronic music devices, turn down the phone rings, and
speak softly -- sadly, I think they were being quiet for them, because
they were well-behaved and nice).
Totally grabbed a cab from the Edinburgh station to
Rhona's, who met me with Lady Grey tea and chocolate and coconut
macaroons. We sat out in their new gazebo in the garden, and her
"little one Jonathan" (who's now full grown, goes by Jonny, and lives
in the house with his girlfriend whom I've yet to meet), joined us.
(Jonny could easily be a handsome cousin of William and Harry's -- even
better since he's got a gorgeous relaxed but throaty Scottish accent,
dropping his aye's for every yes, and effortlessly saying things like
"looking over this wee lovely garden...") Rhona showed me the list of
Scottish country dances for the evening (she'd emailed me that it was
the evening for her and Rod's Scottish country dancing club to meet,
and they'd be taking me), and I was beginning to feel a bit weak that
failing doomnation was ahead of me. (Not to mention that
mysterious comment Jonny had made about not being invited because he's
too young for the crowd.)
Rhona made a very nice tomato soup and lasagna that
she and I ate in the kitchen (Rod was staying at the school where the
dancing would be, since he was working there anyway), and it turned out
we were running a bit late, as she said we were probably missing the
first dance. (She didn't appear worried, though.) I was
pleased that she was dressed for it, and wearing regular slacks and a
jumper, and she said I was fine in my jeans and long sleeved Eddie
Bauer. She did offer to loan me a pair of her slippers (pretty
much ballet shoes), but said I was fine in my sneakers. (I sensed
I'd need some familiarity to cling to when the dancing started.)
So we got there (the University of Edinburgh Royal
School of Veterinary something), a huge old (Scotland old) building, and went up
the grand polished wood staircases (with an oil painting hanging over
it) up to a regular emptied classroom, where people (definitely my
parents' Sunday School class retirement and beyond age) were dancing to
the Scottish music, and some guy calling out the steps. (Rhona
said she wasn't worried about being late, since it wasn't her turn to
call.) When they finished, Rod came over to hug hello and drag me
out with him for a dance (I'll have to get a list of the dances later),
and it was a relatively easy one to almost keep up with, having four or
six of us dancing, and Rod and Rhona to guide me along.
As the evening progressed, of course, it got less
easy, and I was just dizzy with the colors of people's clothing passing
me left and right and circling and me having no idea what "corners"
they were referring to or where I'd end up -- but the people were
extremely lovely, encouraging me to not worry about it (several of them
had trouble keeping up, and Rhona commented on the way home that she
noticed I managed to pick up a few sets in one evening that others
still haven't gotten the hang of after a couple of years).
Several of them guided me through steps by holding out their hands and
telling me what to do, and by the end of the evening, a few of the
gents started dancing behind me and guiding (gently pushing) me through
the intricate courses, with everyone smiling along. Whew!
When the evening was over, I was congratulated by several who
complimented me on being so brave in just jumping in.
Afterwards, we went to a friend of Rod and Rhona's
who'd been dancing with us -- Susan and David, and their daughter Emma
-- who'd invited us over for drinks. They had a lovely house, and
a very nice black lab which Rod enjoyed playing with as much as I did,
and the conversation often returned to talk of the daughter's wedding,
which is this June. (Earlier talk today in the gazebo included
looking at pictures from Alistair's wedding, another one of Rod and
Rhona's -- and pictures made by their third and final son Chris, a
professional photographer.) Anyway, my wine practicing had paid
off, because I easily drank two glasses of white wine with the best of
them without flinching, then a cup of hibiscus tea that Rhona had
brought back from their Egypt trip earlier this month. (Rod commented
that it looked like blood, and that I'd probably like it -- and I
did.) At one point Susan asked what I do, I said you mean for a
job, for work? and Rhona said, "She works in her pajamas!" And
David said, "Well, that could mean a lot of things -- are you sure you
want to tell people that?"
Anyway, we're all back now, having left David and
Susan's at nearly midnight, and Rod's got a one-day London business
trip tomorrow, so all are sleeeeeepy... (except Jonny, who's still
downstairs watching telly).
Tomorrow sounds like me just roaming Edinburgh (Rod
says they've got an Edinburgh Dungeon!), looking for penny smashers and
whatever. Hopefully I'll have Friday to do basically the
same. (Friday NIGHT, however, Rhona's informed me we'll be
leaving to spend the weekend at their place near Aviemore, where, ahem,
Monarch of the Glen is
filmed. She also said the Scottish National Gallery has a display
of Monarch of the Glen paintings, so I'll be seeing that as well
hopefully this week.)
England and
Scotland for fun
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