Travel Fun....map

I just tried out a new website with lots of cool stuff for geeky folk like me. It lets you create a map that shows where you have been or where you are going......

Where I have been

Make yours @ BigHugeLabs.com

Here is the web address....
http://www.bighugelabs.com/

One of the things Mr. Duncan said, was how excited he was about “young, new teachers.” I find young new teachers exciting also, but what about those of us who are seasoned, who have ridden some of the waves of change and reform? Education’s problems have never been solved by getting rid of everyone who is over 30! When I first finished my Masters, and encountered resistance to change, I remember professors who said you just have to wait for the “old guard” to retire. But the “old guard” did retire, and change didn’t come.

Every year starry-eyed new teachers go into education willing to do whatever it takes to make education work.

Mr. Duncan, the problem is

• deeper than the “old guard,”


• deeper than the curriculum,


• deeper than training teachers,


• deeper than what kids bring to school from their personal experiences,


• deeper than issues of merit pay (I would not and could not work harder or longer than I have worked...no matter what I was being paid. Most educators go into education because they are altruistic, not because they planned to amass a fortune).

The real problem is systemic. How can we move teachers into the coaching role when they are held responsible for each student’s mastery. Realistically, coaching implies that the student decides how much s/he will invest. When you coach students are allowed to wash out. There is no allowance in the current system for this.

If we want education to work better, most of our communities need to do the hard work of changing. It means changing schools, teachers, parents, students, and administrators. Indeed, it means changing everything. This kind of systemic change takes time and and requires long-term consistency. People must relate to one another in ways beyond pointing fingers and suggesting that if we just had better prepared and serious teachers things would be better, or better parents, or better …………

Before we can make it better we must know what we want education to be. We must be a village to raise our children --- we must have trust in one another. We must have shared understandings about the kind of world we are educating children for. Until we understand what we want and where we want to go we won’t even be able to tell if we have arrived!

Following Dean as he went to earn his Phd. I found myself in a small district in West Texas. I stood in the middle of a “library” that clearly offered many opportunities for my gifts, with a group of teachers and administrators who were promising to give me the tools I needed to make a difference in this school library! It was an offer I couldn’t refuse! I never looked back toward a classroom again.

My expectation that teaching quality in this dusty little town would be poor was altered by the reality. I found teachers who were passionate about math, science, history and art. Inspired by this and the students I met, I found myself working non-stop…. I worked at school all day, and came home and got online at night working to educate myself about possibilities on the Internet. It was 1993, and the Internet was new to public educators. It was a place filled with idealism, freedom, collaboration, encouragement and support.

I was pushed and pulled by the educational reforms of the day. The introduction of technology seemed poised to push the reforms in which the college of education had grounded me. Delight-directed education and the ability of students to do authentic research and publication of their thoughts! I wrote grants to gain funds to implement these lofty ideas. But looking back I realize that we are always under the gun of someone’s political agenda, and I do not see the reforms I so cherished were part of that landscape. Control of information is the ultimate goal of those in power. It keeps them in power and doesn't allow for a divergent world view to challenge theirs. As long as that is the case, I am not convinced change can take hold.

I think about this reform movement and how it came to be often since I am still in education and still in the midst of campaigns to change. We need to ask some questions.

1. What is driving "education reform?"
2. Are we comparing apples to apples when we look at our statistics and compare them to other countries?implementation.
3. What would a school that actually implemented change look like?
4. Is the goal of educating all children to the same level of competency achievable?
5. What does Mr. Duncan mean when he says that the tests have been "dumbed down?"
6. What is it we are testing for?
7. Has any of this recently driven standardized testing resulted in a positive improvement in educational outcome and how would we measure that? What would it look like?

Most historians pinpoint the beginning of the modern educational reform movement to the publication of A Nation At Risk, by the Reagan administration's conservative Education Secretary, William Bennett. But in truth it goes back much further all the way to the writings and experience of John Dewey. To understand the scope of all this you must also become familiar with the writings of educational psychologists like Piaget, who wrote at the early part of the last century. By the time I was on my path, we had already experienced the first round of the Bennett driven educational reform. This reform focused on standardizing American Education and standardized testing.

I should insert here, the commentary of my grandmother and mother – both of whom tried to explain to me that all educational reform is cyclical and that I would soon discover that the ideas I subscribed to, would fall from favor and I would then watch as educational reform worked its way through constantly like a snake eating its own tail.

The more things change part I

Last weekend I watched Education Secretary Arne Duncan discuss the state of American Education. You can take a look for yourself at what he said at the following link -- Mr. Duncan's remarks generated a lot of thought for me, and my response is too long for a tweet, too long for one single blog post.....so if you are curious after reading todays post, you will have to return daily to see what I want the secretary to know --- that he seems not too understand.... http://www.cnn.com/2009/POLITICS/02/27/education.school.year/index.html


Dear Mr. Duncan;

My mother taught, my grandmother taught, and I swore I would never teach! Growing up in a virtual medieval gild of educators made me want to run from education. Every family gathering (which included teachers, college professors, newspaper publishers, park rangers, and farmers) wound up being a discussion about education. Stories were shared around the dinner table. Always in the background – never spoken outloud—was the message that we are part of a community to which we owe ourselves and all that we are.

I became a librarian, because I believed in that concept of public service (and to avoid public service as an educator). Gradually, I recognized that my service as a public librarian was teaching. This was a freeing concept. People may not realize that being a librarian is often about teaching;

• helping people find their real question,


• coaching them as they seek their own answers,


• rejoicing with them when they answer their question to their own satisfaction, and


• helping them frame what they learn so that they can utilize their new knowledge as they desire.

When I recognized that I was already in education, I decided to make the relationship formal. I returned to college and got my masters degree in Education! It was stimulating as I found many people who understood education as my grandmother did! Whole language was a philosophy and mirrored what I did as a librarian with literature and kids! You couldn’t bottle it, replicate it, or sell it! It was more like a disease -- an infection of educational curiosity. In this new world of educational reform I learned that students would be driven by delight and questioning! We would no longer be bound by the steel bands of skills alone. Of course, skills could not be under-rated! They were necessary, but not the goal of education. Skills helped kids acquire the tools to think. THINKING CRITICALLY was the goal. My professors understood that education was, as Dewey had seen it, related to personal experience! These were ideas I could give over my life to!! I graduated and looked around for a job in my "new-old" calling, education!

Who am I and how did I get here?

Yesterday, I found myself searching for a pair of Crocs (those plastic shoes that are great for summer gardening). For some reason the shoes, once available at most stores, were illusive. I found myself at Greenhills Mall here in Nashville. Unlike the mall nearer my home, which is struggling to survive and lacks any clear understanding of who their consumers are, Greenhills caters to a wealthy clientele.

I felt uncomfortable, out of place, as someone stopped me to inquire what message my shirt was intended to convery (it says quite simply "talk books to me") It seemed like an easy message to understand, but the very well-dressed young women teetering on 5" black heals thought it might have some more mysterious message. Everywhere I looked people were coiffed, made up and dressed in the latest fashion. I was meandering in t-shirt and jeans with no makeup (a daring fact -- considering that I have just begun my sixth decade of life.)

I sat for 15 mintues in the shoe section of Dillards. No one waited on me. The youthful shoe sales people rushed past me with their arms loaded down with boxes of shoes for customers who appeared to be engaged in some sort of dance. "I really love these, but I am going to look further, even though I can hardly think I will find another pair as nice. I will probably be back later, thank you dear. And what was your name again?" The exhausted young man gathered up six boxes and carried them past me to the back room. Little did he know that I was there to make a purchase --- all I needed was to tell someone.

Finally, an older woman in the department asked if I had been waited on. "Nope."...."I want this pair of crocs," I said, AND if you have a nice sandal like that one," I said pointing to a strappy leather, "in my size I will take it too." She stopped what she was doing and following my clear directions was able to make a sale in less than 3 minutes!

It made me think about our country. We hear a lot about "the American people" But who are the American People? Certainly, I was not one of these American People, as my 11-year-old stick shift Saturn in the parking garage attested, but in this mall I felt like a foreigner. If you want to take a look at what I was experiencing here is a great link

The L-Curve website which graphically represents this data. http://www.lcurve.org/

Despite my level of education, and the fact that I do not feel inferior. I was clearly a stranger in a strange land here. My question might be, as a person who believes in community and shared responsibility, why would people of similar economic demographics to mine choose to identify with the extremely wealthy? Why would they fear the "government" (translate that WE THE PEOPLE)and give over trust to corporations and banks, the very people who plunged us into the current economic straights, NOT to mention the Gusher In the GULF!

What would Jesus Read?

Some days you know you are where you belong! A week of Dr. Seuss Fun, thanks to teachers who support Read Across America! Then this afternoon as I was heading to "car duty" I noticed one 1st grade student at the computers. "I've got to do dismissal," I said. "But I have to take this test," he wailed. "If I don't I'm gonna get a spankin'!"

I told him to let me do dismissal and then come back to the library (he is in YMCA aftercare) and he could take the test. I was thinking I'd come back and let, him take the test and be free in 10 minutes to head to physical therapy. Like so many things in life, it was not what it seemed. When he arrived he almost immediately called for help. "There are big red letters and the computer won't let me take the test."

When I read his screen I discovered that, indeed, he couldn't take the test because he had already done so. (We use Accelerated Reader, a program that encourages students to read books of their choice, take computerized quizzes, and earn points toward a goal which when met - entitles them to attend and win prizes at a special party).

"All right, go pick out another book and we will read it together and you can take that test," I said. He went to the shelves and picked a book at his level and returned to my desk. Sitting next to me, we began the laborious process that reading is for a non-fluent reader. In all it would take nearly 45 minutes of intense individual attention to complete this task.

After just a few pages he stopped and said, "This is too hard." I looked at him and said, "Yes,
Alex, this is hard, but most everything in life is hard if it is worth anything at all. When you master these words and learn to read you will feel proud because you will know you achieved something worthwhile."

"Do you think I am having fun?" I asked. "No." was the meek response. "I could be out having fun, but I am here with you working very hard to help you learn to read."

"Why do you think I am doing this with you?" I asked. "I don't know." was the limp reply of somone who knows they have already lost the argument. I knew that his parents were participants in a church so I used resources I don't ordinarily employ as a public school librarian. "What does Jesus tell us to do?" I asked. You could see the wheels turn, "Read?" he replied earnestly.

"Well, I don't know if Jesus every told anyone to read, Alex, but he should have! I told him I was expecting him to say Jesus taught us to "love one another," and if we do that we will help each other, and while I was not having fun, I was doing what Jesus told me to do, helping him read!

When I got home I used the concordance to see if Jesus had perhaps told us to read, and Alex knew something I didn't. --- 1 Timothy 4:13 "Till I come, give attendance to reading, to exhortation, to doctrine." Of course Jesus didn't say it, but at least it is about reading....

It was a good day at school!

Another new thing...or is it?

Friday afternoon at school our leadership team met with Dr. John Norris, a consultant to our school district's central office. He brought encouraging news of a new process to help our district reach its educational goals. He made a point of noting the fact that it is a process rather than a product. This is a real change in a district that spent a lot of time and money seeking silver-bullet programs that could be bought, imported and executed.

My time in this district has been punctuated with a new program every year! Perhaps the assumption was that teachers are not adequately trained, or perhaps that they are lazy --- you know the old saw..."those who can do and those who can't teach." The search was for the right program --- one that even a caveman could use. The issue is much more complex, and whether this new initiative can help remains to be seen, but John posed a question at the conclusion of his presentation which left me pondering. Did I wish to be on the metaphorical bus?

This bus, bound toward a more positive future, filled with possibility--did I want a seat? Could I be part of a team to recreate our building culture? Change -- the word sounds great. BUT exactly what change in culture is sought? I think that this is the crucial question --- which must be clearly defined --- otherwise we won't be able to identify our success or failure.

Whether we like it or not, the whole of what we are about in education is vastly changed for we live in a world where print media are disappearing, broadcast is dieing and narrow-cast allows for us to hear only one voice in an argument. Technology has provided the vehicle for these changes, and even though it is not immediately apparent from the curriculum or our surroundings, the change is quite palpable. If you doubt this please look at this presentation from TED. Where is the bus stop?

With what shall we come before the Lord?....with rivers of pennies

The library smelled of hot chocolate, marshmellows, and homemade brownines....crystal snowflakes hung from the ceiling and the monitors flashed a deep blue with snowfalling and a snowman doffing his hat in its center. Some children sat at the tables decorated with frosty blue and silver arrangements enjoying their treats, while the other half sat at the computers designing virtual snowflakes with visions of snowdays, snowballs, and snowmen with carrot noses dancing in their heads.

Names were called as the children lined up to choose their prizes from the old steamer trunk. Three moms helped serve, clean, and work with the students as they reaped the rewards of reading independently and reaching their reading goals! On days like this, I don't wonder why I am a librarian in an elementary library carved out of two old classrooms filled with disintegrating books in need of replacement.

The day began with over 60 children lining up bearing coins from their piggy banks to put in the big jar marked "Help Haiti." A first grader, Sophie, had to have help as she proffered the heavy small bucket filled with her pennies, nichols, and dimes. These children were bringing their 'widow's mites,' their personal fortunes because they shared the grand human characteristic of caring for others.

As I walked out of the building this afternoon, Jasmine, a beautiful chocolate colored little girl with flashing brown eyes, rushed up and threw her arms around me, "Did you see me at the party?" she asked. "Yes," I said. "I was so proud of you."

"I got three points!" she announced. "I'm gonna get 5 points next time." Then she danced away toward the drinking fountain.

The answer to my post last week about Micah 6:6, which grew from a growing dispair about our failure to think and respond, as a country, with depth to reality suddenly became a 'thing with feathers' as Emily Dickinson said.

Hope is the thing with feathers That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune--without the words, And never stops at all,
And sweetest in the gale is heard; And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chillest land, And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity, It asked a crumb of me.

And so ....my children brought me hope and answered the question, "with what shall I come before the Lord?" The prophet asks, "shall I come with burnt offerings.....Will the Lord be pleased with thousands of rams, with ten thousands rivers of oil?"

"No," said my children as they came.......with rivers of pennies, and offerings of purity of spirit. So how shall we respond? Micah answers that too, We must do justice, love kindness and walk humbly with our God.

Thoughts for the new year....prophets or profits....

Each day last week I used State-of-the-Union Addresses from history as the interesting fact of the day. Some of these speeches remind me of the Old Testament prophets. January 6, 1941, was FRD when he gave his famous speech about the four freedoms. He spoke about what everyone (not just Americans) should have.

"In the future days, which we seek to make secure, we look forward to a world
founded upon four essential human freedoms.
The first is freedom of speech
and expression -- everywhere in the world.
The second is freedom of every
person to worship God in his own way -- everywhere in the world.
The third is
freedom from want -- which, translated into world terms, means economic
understandings which will secure to every nation a healthy peacetime life for
its inhabitants -- everywhere in the world.
The fourth is freedom from fear
-- which, translated into world terms, means a world-wide reduction of armaments
to such a point and in such a thorough fashion that no nation will be in a
position to commit an act of physical aggression against any neighbor-- anywhere
in the world."

These visions of a better world are something that every world citizen might welcome--with the exception of religious freedom. What amazes me is that some among us reject these lofty goals as evil, saying that FDR put us on fast track for socialism. The word itself seems to have a life of its own, but focusing on words can be idolatrous. Whether the word is flag, America, Christian, conservative or liberal -- we can all be seduced to idolize the words --- without thinking much about the true meaning.

We need to look beyond the symbols for meaning.....and here are some sobering facts to ponder when we put our nation on a pedestal.

• We will spend an estimated $802 million to develop drugs to help men have sex, and give women eyelashes to attract the men on those drugs. We spend $11.7 million yearly on sculpting sagging flesh and smoothing wrinkles in medical procedures.


• Agri-companies genetically alter our food producing infertile seeds that are dependent on the same company's herbicide to survive -- insuring profits for the company that created both the seeds and herbicide.


• We support huge agricultural firms that raise and genetically alter animals to produce mass quantities of tasteless meat for our tables. Turkeys for Thanksgiving that are so fat they cannot stand or walk on their own, pigs held in buildings where they never see the world that they were meant to experience. This is done worshipping at the alter of greatest profit.


• We live in a country where the extraordinarily wealthy have convinced ordinary wage earners that there should be no inheritance tax --- a tax which, by-the-way, applied to only 1% of the population. All this as our country moves toward the greatest discrepancy between wealth and middle class since 1928 and the Great Depression.


• We live in a nation where the top 1% of American households received 21.8 percent of all wealth.(2005) Coming close to matching the figure of 1928, when 23.9 percent of all income went to the richest one percent. (http://www.inequality.org/) .


• We have spent (as of Dec. 2009) $1.05 trillion on the war in Iraq alone. If you follow the link there is an interesting means of comparing the expenditure on war to what it could go for.
  

So in the truest sense of the Old Testament Prophets....let me suggest that we re-read Micah 3:5..."Thus says the Lord concerning the prophets who lead my people astray, who cry "peace" when they have something to eat, but declare war against those who have nothing to put in their mouths." But wait --- there is hope.....read on....come to the part about beating swords into plowshares....and learning war no more....and finally ....what does the Lord require of you, but to do justice, and to love kindness, and walk humbly with your God.."

I pray that we will be deeply thoughtful and be that kind of people....

Passports, Bags and International travel

Bitting cold has driven a choreographed flock of twittering birds to the tree outside my window. They gleen juniper berries and are gone with the sound of fluttering wings. How do they know where to search for and find food? They remind me that in their own way they are filled with hope and faith. Hope -- that there will be a nutritious reward along the way and faith that they will find it! The sight of this morning ritual gives me hope to go forward even though my day is looming filled with imperfectly completed tasks!

Our yearly cookie exchange with my Ingram friends was on the horizon, but after I took down all the decorations in the gym for our Celebration of Nations last night I just didn't have it in me to bake cookies. Now I had to decide whether to call and cancel, or just go to the neighborhood bakery and buy the cookies!

The "Celebration of Nations" was the reason for my inability to get everything accomplished...To see the rest of the photos click here.

"This was the best tea party I've ever attended!"

Four moms and one librarian worked to make a memory in the library today. High tea was served on linen and china! Kids were treated to the real thing - High Tea. 150 of them who had met their reading goals for the first 9 weeks were escorted into the library which was transformed into a tea room. Little girls wore their hats and gloves and several of the boys wore their ties and vests along with their best manners! Proper tea-time manners and the art of conversation were demonstrated, and even the 4th grade boys practiced pouring and conversation at the tea table. It was only proper in this month-long celebration of geography and our world's nations that we celebrated their remarkable achievements as they would in another country!

As the 4th graders were leaving, one table of boys who had been exceptionally civilized, (a remarkable divergence from typical behavior which is more attuned to hunting frogs in the creek that passes by the school)stopped as they left to return to class, "This was the best tea party I've ever attended," said one. To say that this tickled me to my toes understates it's impact. It was what makes all the work to produce such an event worthwhile!

Wonder, Eccentricity and the Library

When most people think of librarians they think of stacks of books, people who walk about speaking in hushed tones smelling faintly of moth balls, wearing reading glasses, with pencils stuck in their mousy buns. That image and my experience with librarians who valued order over people was why it took me a long time to finally admit that I was a librarian! Still, after all these years, people are confused about what a librarian is. If you visited my school yesterday, you might have asked what on earth is a librarian doing with children in the middle of a garden?

Upon my graduation from college my recently discharged husband and I headed for Syracuse New York so that he could begin his education. I soon learned that my history degree prepared me for very little in the real world, and quickly settled into a job at Syracuse University Library. Librarians there added a new dimension to my existing stereotype. I'll call it the ECCENTRICITY Factor. I was astounded and fascinated by Betty Henes, a great reference librarian. She shared the dubious honor of being the most eccentric person I'd ever met with my high school chemistry teacher, Mr. McGregor. In fact, I often thought that it was a shame they never met, it would have been a marriage made in heaven!

I watched as timid freshmen approached her in need of help with the myriad research sources available for their first projects. She never tired of expressing intense interest and pleasure in each student's tentative questions. She had a unique way of expressing that interest. It involved a cross between a snort and and an Oooooooh (which I can reproduce but have difficulty describing)!

She wore two uniforms for work both were wool A-line jumpers, varied only with blouse or sweater color. As a recent graduate, I viewed her, how shall I say, as strange until I recognized that this unique individual (who I later learned had a Phi Beta Kappa key) could find more information in less time than I had imagined possible! She was only a beginning to the Eccentricity Factor -- there many others! Ms Mullins was the Government Documents Librarian. Anyone who has tried to navigate the vast number and variety of government publications knows that it is nothing short of labyrinthine. I could always find Ms. Mullins by trailing her scent. She had dyed jet-black hair, highly coiffed in a style popular 15 years earlier, and was always dressed to the nines. She kept a bottle of her favorite expensive Cologne in the right hand drawer of her desk and used it liberally!

All these varieties of eccentricity shared one thing in common; they all loved to learn, were highly curious, and cared about helping people find those things that helped them along their journey in life!

Later I found myself drawn to Public Librarianship just after the birth of our daughter. I began working part time in the Libraries of San Bernardino County as a substitute librarian. Again, I met librarians who exuded eccentricity. Ms. Brown, the librarian at the Apple Valley branch lived far out in the desert where she had built her own home brick-by-brick, pipe-by-pipe. She had worked in Hollywood on the quiz shows in the days when she sat hidden beneath part of the set with her reference books checking answers as they came! Author Hardy Gramatky was a friend and frequented her library in his sunset years! This eccentric librarian shared that same love of learning and finding things with the eccentric but dedicated crew at S.U.


Today as I took the garden helpers into the garden --- and saw the glee and excitement of those 10 children who paid their dragon dollars to go to the garden instead of getting jicky-junk-- I wondered in my heart --- will these students recall me as that eccentric librarian in their life? As I think of it --- I am pretty eccentric because I get this basic fact --- when we encourage curiosity and real life experience --- we all learn so much -- I know, you are asking, "What in the world does a garden have to do with a school library?" That is a valid question, and here is the answer. Just like Betty Henes, I delight in the budding curiosity of my fellow travelers to the grave. (a literary illusion to one of my favorite author's Dickens) Though it is not in my job description it is necessary to prime the pump by encouraging curiosity --- questioning is the first step in the process of INFORMATION LITERACY! There it is the big Librarianship word!! Before you can do research you must have a question for which you seek an answer!

As those children pulled up the last of the carrots --- they began to compare the carrot they pulled to their neighbors carrot...they were measuring them --- Then we found caterpillars which we looked at with magnifying glasses... we planted vines that we'd started in paper cups three weeks ago! We investigated how the vines had woven their little tendrils around the blind pulls next to the window where they had been growing in the library. We gently unwound them so we could take them out to the garden. Little fingers quivered with excitement as they tried to be gentle and in a hurry all at the same time. As we planted the vines --- One of the students pointed to the bottom of the paper cup. It was disintegrating. She wondered why!?

We smelled the herbs, we picked tomatoes ---all this was generated by the kids -- not me...We were finally driven to return to the library by falling rain. The children came in wet --- covered with weed seeds --- still chattering with excitement. I, on the other hand, came in deeply content. At least for this one day --- an eccentric librarian shared with children who shrieked with delight -- the joys of curiosity sparked by something that was real --- and watched in wonder as they strengthened that remarkable muscle that makes us human; the Brain!!!!

Learning to live with blessings and courses!

As someone who embraces technology and has used it throughout my adult life, I recognize that it follows the pattern established by God in Deuteronomy where he places both blessings and curses in our paths. With every new blessing there are ways we can use them that bring on curses!

The blessings of technology are easy to spot. Access to so much information, staying in contact with people, creating virtual communities...so much good. What could be the curses? They are the curses of unintended consequences. People who connect only with people who present a single side of a story --- people who concentrate and increase the separation among people in our country.

Our children more than any other generation have lost touch with reality. The spend so much time in virtual worlds that they lose touch with the real world that surrounds us. They do not know how to observe nature, they don't know where their food comes from or how the earth nourishes us. They perhaps don't even experience real depth of relationships, because they spend so much time in virtual relationships. I cannot stop or change the technology, but I can encourage experiences that let them be touched by that which is real, even as I encourage them to use the tools of technology!

Martha Stamps, cookbook author, newspaper columnist, and chef, visited Westmeade on Friday. Nearly 80 children got to watch a real chef turn a few healthy ingredients into a great after school treat. Vegetables from a real garden don't wait --- so even though the event was fraught with incredible difficulty, she was there at 2:00 in the afternoon to make a difference!

Timing was bad for her --- (she was in the midst of a move) --- because of this fact she had trouble getting my phone messages and I didn't get her email until late Thursday night (she had sent the message to my daughter whose email address is quite similar to mine but, thankfully, Noelle had forwarded it to me).

When I left home Friday --- I walked off without the cucumbers that had been in the refrigerator waiting for her! But not to be stopped by the lack of a significant ingredient --- I hopped in my car and in 15 minutes flat had organic cucumbers ready for her....She had been preparing the other tasty ingredients and didn't miss a step....I washed them up....and returned to help "strip" them and carve out their centers to make an edible bowl for the delicious heirloom tomatoes, herbs and spices!

As I helped her carry out the remaining ingredients to the car, a warm and gentle rain began falling. We finished loading the car and I watched as this lovely woman drove off to her own family. I stepped back into school to do my "car duty." Where children were eager to tell me about what they had seen. As if I had not been there, they shared the story of the lady who came and fixed "salsa" in cucumber cups!
Much better than the "virtual food" we are used to.....

Hummers and health care......the Zen of manure!

My father taught me always to make every job, no matter how menial, into something that I was attentive to. His favorite example of how to do this was mucking out the stable on his brother's ranch. Shoveling manure was not something he looked forward to, but it was necessary. When I close my eyes I can see him and hear his voice as clearly as though he were sitting next to me today. "Always try to make whatever job you are doing interesting. See if you can find a way to do it better or differently than anyone else."

Then he would describe this very unpleasant job and how he made it something he could be attentive to. While he shoveled the foul smelling brown sludge he planned how he could stack the manure in piles (pun intended) that were carefully executed squares--level and even, or sometimes more fanciful shapes... He would often laugh and say, "If you have to shovel sh_t you might as well make it interesting!"

My mother hated his use of such graphic language, but the message seemed to be worth the words --

Washing dishes is a task that I find boring at best. Unlike Brother Lawrence, I seldom think of it as a gift to God -- but, in deference to my Father's philosophy, I do try to make it more interesting by placing bird feeders directly in my line of sight. They hang in front of the window in a nearby tree. This Sunday as I washed dishes I glanced at the feeder and saw a bird. He seemed to be sick -- the way birds look just before they expire --- but on closer observation --- he was occasionally beating his wings and clearly trying to extricate himself from the feeder. He was caught!

So instead of saying "birdie last rights," I grabbed a paper towel to protect him from the sight of a giant hand and to protect me in case he had some strain of avian bacteria that I could contract! Ultimately, I had to call in reinforcements and my daughter and I removed the feeder from the tree. (All the while I had to hold the little bird to keep him from further injuring himself. He had already managed to pull a feather from his wingtip and was bleeding.)

Using a tweezers and turning the feeder upside down --- I was finally able to free his beak which had gotten wedged between the ingenious prongs that kept the squirrels from being able to reach the seeds. It gave us joy to have saved this one small bird.

At school yesterday I had the opportunity to intervene on behalf of a Ruby-Throated Hummingbird! There is a butterfly garden outside my library window, and the butterfly bush attracts not only butterflies, but also hummers! Suddenly I heard the little fellow. The familiar hum followed by his little body bumping against the light fixture. I jumped into action turning out the lights.....I was going to make sure the bird escaped! Last year this same thing happened and I thought the bird had gotten out --- only to find his carcass later in the week! I was determined not to let that happen again so I chased that little fellow around until we were both worn out. He landed atop the 800's....no doubt a literary bird! I climbed up on the OSHA stool and cupped my hand over him. Sliding him to the edge of the shelf I gently placed my other hand so as to catch him. Thus did I trap the tiny fellow.

Just at that moment a group of 3rd graders lined up in the hallway on a bathroom break, and they were able to accompany me to see his return to freedom. Not, of course, before asking a number of questions about how I caught him and why he came into the library in the first place, and what would happen to him after I released him. I sent them back to their room and told them to investigate the links on their class links webpage. I had just put these up a week ago when I saw feeders attached to the third grade classroom windows.
http://community-2.webtv.net/Velpics/HUM/

Twice in the course of the last week I intervened to save the lives of my little feathered friends, and often as is the case that set me thinking about possible metaphors for these experiences. So here goes.

I saw a need. I didn’t think to ask myself is this worth the risk? Even though there was some danger in a woman of my advanced age and agility chasing the little humming bird and climbing up to rescue him…..I just didn't think of it.
I didn’t think to ask his country of origin. I didn’t expect anything in return, except the pure joy of saving a small life.

In the midst of the frantic healthcare anger fest -- My little birds reminded me that MOST people would do the right thing if confronted by someone in need. They wouldn’t ask his politics or even country of origin..…they would just reach out… I wonder if we couldn’t just do that…stop the shouting and reach out!

Assault on Truth

My return to America was as culturally shocking as my arrival in Europe two months earlier! I returned to a country where anger had utterly replaced discourse. It seemed that every day newer and more preposterous accounts of what was in the emergent congressional health care legislation was reported in news media lending credibility where none was deserved. Please read the article in AARP's September Bulletin "The Assault on Truth."

My husband pointed it out to me. He gets the AARP newsletter and has since he turned 50, but me....I like to think I am too young for such material! The article answers in reasoned ways some of the most egregious myths about health care and leaves it to the reader to draw conclusions. It also cogently explains why fringe ideas are finding their way into public acceptance. That is frightening. The knowledge that nonsense if repeated often enough might be perceived as truth lead me, weary from a long day at school with candle-in-hand, to a health care vigil at Centennial Park in downtown Nashville. Your won't find me in the pictures, but I was there.


As a Goldwater Girl wannabe (I was not old enough) I followed the 1964 election diligently. My brother, the much older college man, had plastered Goldwater or socialism bumper stickers all over the back of his 1953 Plymouth. I idolized him and read the books he left around the house. Several of these were the kind of fringe thinking that is getting so much play today. Filled with hateful speech and fear mongering about how Gestapo would be in my house if we failed to elect Goldwater. In 1963 the main stream news media would have used the "Fairness Doctrine" if these ideas had been in the main stream of news. It was the doctrine that required news to be separated from commentary, and opposing viewpoints were presented back-to-back to let people sort through the maze of misinformation themselves. I loved the old Johnny Carson spoofs of the fairness doctrine on the Tonight Show! My favorite was the NRA guy in his plaid shirt who always spoke in favor of guns...anybody remember his name?

The argument against the fairness doctrine runs that today you can get any viewpoint you want on media....so no need to require it of any network. That is 100% accurate, but the problem is people only choose to receive the feeds they already agree with. They do not hear or see opposing viewpoints. The news all comes form the same sources and is picked up and used by all news outlets. It is difficult to find any news organization supporting independent reporters. Independent reporters are critical to our democracy. They invest the kind of time and energy in unearthing what is happening and thereby holding government, politicians, corporations and individuals to a higher standard. I can no longer sit by silently as I watch my country degenerate into a bickering match between intellectually unarmed people. A democracy can only function if there is an educated electorate. I cannot stand yelling and hostility----so I stood quietly until my candle burned down for all the people who need health care, but can't afford it. For all the people who had healthcare, but lost their jobs, for all the people who will need healthcare, but can't imagine needing it. I stood until my candle burned down because we must return to civil discourse and thoughtful inquiry as a way to seek truth!

Toto, there is no place like home......

Doolin to the end.

Our journey to Doolin took a couple of detours. We stopped to have lunch and somehow, because we were in a hurry to get to the Burren left Kathy's chair and a gift behind at the pub. We got about 20 miles down the road, before it hit me that we had not loaded her chair! Finding a place to turn around is not as easy as it might seem in Ireland. Like England the roads are narrow and there are no shoulders, often the roads don't afford a good place to turn around either....but we did get back (faster than we had traveled the same road leaving, and found Kathy's chair AND the gift sitting waiting --- I had visions of it all being stolen, but GOD IS GOOD! All the time. When I walked in there it sat right where Kathy said she left it, completely undisturbed.

We drove up to the Burren not knowing what to expect. I imagine this would be a geologists or botanists or even a paleontologists dream vacation. The rock simply protrudes from the earth and between stones there are small plants growing. Scrubby plants that must be quite determined live here. We turned of the secondary road onto the Burren Way - a road that really looks more like a bike path or a place for walkers. Our car was initially followed by a car filled with teenage boys. I pulled over to let them pass, but they stopped. Then when I pulled onto the path again, they started driving as well. It was really the only apprehensive moment I had during the whole of the trip. Eventually, though they took a different path and we were left utterly alone on this barren landscape. On one side you could look down to the sea and on the other rose up the huge mound of stone! It was shaped by glaciers so it had not a sign of craggy outcropping, and the color was a pale color looking very much like sand from the distance. Scotland and Ireland both seemed countries shaped by turbulent pasts both geologically and in terms of human conflict as well.

Several times we met others coming from the opposite direction on the path. It was always a challenge to find a place where one of us could creep over enough to let the other pass. Some of these folk lived on the Burren, though it is a puzzle to me how someone could farm or ranch on top of the rock! Still there were homes along the way. You would have to be willing to live an isolated life out here, but then how different was that from living out on the plains of West Texas. We finally reached civilization again in mid afternoon and Kathy took the wheel for the rest of the drive in to Doolin. It was pleasant to look out the window for a change, and she was pretty confident that she was familiar enough with the area that she could find Doolin. There were plenty of ruins from the medieval times just off the roadway, old church yards as well as castles and keeps, and we arrived in Doolin around 4:30. We stayed at the Toomullin House just up from two of the village’s pubs, McGanns and McDermotts. We carried everything in and repacked, making careful account of all the gifts we were bringing home for U.S. Customs. Once that was done, around 7:00 or so we headed out.

We drove up to an old ruined church built probably around 1100 or so. The most interesting thing here was the churchyard. Not only was it all around the church but it was also inside the church. Not that people were buried in the floor of the church like the minsters or cathedrals, but there were actual graves with markers inside the church building. I asked one of the locals about this practice which seemed odd to me. He explained that the church had long since been a ruin and that the ground there was consecrated and therefore needed to be used. Interestingly people had been buried in that churchyard as recently as 2008! Some of these new markers look so completely out of place amongst those that are covered with likens and aged so that no trace of writing is left.

After we visited another ancient site we headed in for a pub. Our host suggested that we arrive at 7:30 in order to secure a place to sit and eat and then to listen to the music. We tried one pub, but found it already full so we headed on to McGann's. Pub is short for public house, so in Ireland and Britain these places are just that; the places where people gather. For my last night I had fish and chips with mash (that would be green peas). Kathy had the Irish stew which looked equally good. We sat on a bench on one side of the table and the people seated on the other side were complete strangers. This is another unusual ting that happens over here. If there are seats at your table, people feel free to sit and eat with you. A young German couple joined us. The woman was in her last year of preparing to teach at a hauptschule and her husband was in his first year in Industrial Psychology working with companies to help build team work. They are obviously very much in love and shared their dreams readily with us. We discussed many things, but these young people are obviously willing to work to make the world a better place. Among the things we shared were the shame the German people have felt collectively over World War II. We talked about how every country has things of equal shame. For us in the U.S. it is slavery perhaps. But we agreed that it was important to acknowledge guilt and to remind the world that the darkness of heart which brought about Hitler or slavery are within the realm of possibility for every nation. It was very affirming to share this moment with them.

The music began, but as the night wore on, the local people got louder and louder. A table behind us was playing cards and they especially were quite noisy. We decided to migrate to McDermott's. What was nicest about this for me was that they had a parking lot, and I didn't have to parallel part or park miles away! While we were in the first pub a storm had moved in and the rain had made a large puddle for Kathy to navigate as I pulled partially out onto the street from my crowning achievement (a parole parked car up against a stone wall without any scratches on the car!

McDermott's had a local group --- the girl on the fiddle was really quite good, the lad on the Irish drum also, but the guitarist was a bit weak....still they were quite enjoyable and for about 30 minutes all was well, but then the crowd that had been so loud at McGann's began arriving at McDermott's and it was the same story......so we headed out into the rain at around mid-night and crawled into bed. As Dickens would say, "I fell asleep upon the Instant."

The daylight spilling into the room awakened me at about 6:30, and we were up and out before anyone in the house was awake. The drive to Shannon was sunny and we met only a few cars for it was Sunday morning after all. I had passed a stone house---all caved in at least 3 times in the past 2 days....I remember the first time I saw it I thought it ironic--- for it has a big for sale sign with SOLD pasted over it. While I am sure it means the property was for sale --- it gives the impression that someone bought the stone ruin.....so I jumped out of the car and photographed it---

The airport in Shannon is smaller than Nashville -- very easy to navigate so we stopped for a bit of breakfast at the hotel just across the way where Kathy and Bunny stayed when they first arrived. Then sorted ourselves out as they say here, put our trash in the bin, went through security and caught our flight home. That is the way things ended -- In the morning we were driving around Western Ireland solitary in stunning sun and by nightfall we were back in Baltimore doing laundry....ah....but as it is said, "Toto, there's no place like home."

A sky -- filled up with clouds-- blue and white clouds, patches of blue, cauliflower clouds, gray-violet clouds, and a landscape that could only be found this side of heaven on the Emerald Isle. There is a peculiar atmospheric event here that I have never seen before. I don't know how to describe it clearly, but I'll try. I saw it and couldn't take my eyes from it. It was as though a single chunk of cloud in essence functions as a rainbow. It doesn't arch to the ground and it is not as intense as a rainbow,with its clearly defined bands of color, but it appears to be a diffuse rainbow! I have seen this twice now, and it is really quite remarkable.

Our day started with the sun. Yes, it was still there right where it should be, where it had been behind the clouds. I wasn't really cold once today! Cool, yes, but cold---NO. We took a taxi to the airport to pick up our car in Cork. The driver was like all Irish people we have encountered, very friendly and willing to share anything in conversation. It was a long trip so he asked a few questions which lead to the revelation that my great-grandfather and mother had come to America from Cork.

"Ah," he said. "Did they go through Ellis Island, then?" Well, that I cannot say, says I. "Well," says he, "lots of folks who went through Ellis Island got tagged as being from Cork because that was the departure point from Ireland to America." I smiled, and said, "Well, my family was actually from County Cork cause I grew up hearing about it from my Granddad." We were coming near the church I'd asked the cab driver about the night we arrived. Our driver said, "Did you get to see the Cathedral?" "Cathedral is it, then?" says I...."the cab driver last night didn't know that --- cause I asked him about this church as we passed it on the way to our hotel last night."

"Didn't know the Cathedral!?" says he, incredulous! "Well," Kathy came in to defend the cabbie from the night before, "In his defense, he was from Kenya." When we drove by I tried to see the name of the church, but there wasn't one out front like they usually have, and I said "I guess everyone here knows what church this is." I was just joking--but of course--it turned out to be true. "Well," said the cab driver, "You have to see the Cathedral." and he pulled in off the road to show us the ancient structure. The oldest part was begun in 622 when Christianity was brought to Cork." The fellow seemed quite knowledgeable and told us about how Cork had been a bit like Venice when the Christians first arrived. There were nine islands --- but eventually they were drained and the city of Cork is now standing in those ancient reservoirs!

We got to the airport a bit smarter than when we started --- thanks to a cab driver! We picked up our car and started for Dingle and the Peninsula. The drive was like nowhere we had been. the narrow roads were lined with hedges of flowers ---- orange and red mostly. The color of the Emerald Isle was not green --- it was a profusion of Naples yellow, grumbacher red straight out of the tube, alizerin crimson, and more shades of green than I could imagine! These flowers gave way occasionally to stone walls and vistas of white cottages with hillsides that looked as though someone had laid down a giant green crazy quilt over them. Some of the pieces were swiss-dotted with sheep, cows or donkeys.

As the road narrowed we got our first glimpse of the sea -- looking very much like someone had laid down a piece of iridescent taffeta next to the green of the quilt. Climbing and descending again we passed Inch a village with a beach to rival any we have seen and coves that were the purest turquoise and white with huge caves visible. When we reached the village of Dingle we stopped for lunch at the Marina Pub just across from the bay. I had mussels -- steamed in white wine, garlic, butter, shallots and cream....These were the best mussels I have ever had. They made the ones I had in San Francisco seem like dwarfs. They were huge and the meat was pink and succulent (with the occasional piece of sand in teeth). I asked the bar man where they came from, "The bay." he said, gesturing across the street in disbelief. Kathy had a shepherds pie that was of equal quality and we left for the rest of our journey well fortified.

I was completely unprepared for the beauty we were about to encounter. The sea and cliffs grew more dramatic, as did our road which grew narrower. There were occasional turn-outs at which we never failed to stop. The beauty was incredible! We were pelted with a shower now and again, but only momentarily and then the sun would re-emerge coloring part of the landscape with its warm golden rays as colds cooled the landscape next to the brightly lit patch. We drove around the entire stretch of land that jutted out into the sea. There were islands --- that truly looked like giants had hurled them there, and I could understand how the story of Fin M'Coul making the causeway might seem plausible to ancient people. The stones looked as though someone had intentionally split them for they cleaved neatly along planes. We passed stone cottages that were left abandoned during the great potato famine of the 1850s, and even more ancient dwellings that dated back to 2,000 BCE.

As we made our way in-land, we gained a bit of speed --- but there were very tight moments when you simply had to slow down or pull out to let trucks or other large equipment pass. We arrived in Kilarney at 5:30 and had no trouble finding our bed and breakfast. Kathy had stayed there twice before and found her way around the easily. Adlerhaven sits atop a hill at the edge of the city. A farm that is surrounded by trees it is quiet and the farmhouse is charming, but I think the real reason Kathy returns here is that the owner is a lovely woman who is very solicitous and the place itself is very comfortable and clean. She insisted on making us some tea while we made our plans for the evening and the next day's journey and ushered us into a bright and sunny room where we would have breakfast in the morning. After Kathy made made arrangements for our stay in Doolin. We headed back out for the city center for a look around and dinner..

I pulled in to a space to park just as another car pulled out --- only to discover that it was a loading zone...We didn't have coins for the "Pay & Display" booth, so I went into the restaurant in front of the space....to ask if I could get a wee bit of change. The owner said, he'd be glad to help...but then he walked out onto the street and went to check a sign. He came back and said, "I was hoping it said that you could park there after 6:00 p.m. -- but alas it says 8:00. One thing is for certain the Irish people are some of the most hospitable folks we have encountered. Not only did the man give us change (a real courtesy -- especially since we had not bought anything, but also he went outside to make sure we really needed the money to begin with!)

After we parked in a city lot at the end of the main street, we walked back along enjoying the day, the shops, and the sounds of people engaged in pleasant conversation.

We choose a pub/restaurant which turned out to be in one of the tourist guides as a great place to eat and it was! Back to the B&B and off to bed much earlier than the witching hour tonight.

Things happen in threes

The journey from Edinburgh began at 6:15 at the train station near our hotel. It was too early for there to be kitchen staff --- so we had "breakfast to go" fruit and a scone in a bag with coffee in a "take-away" cup.

Things seemed to be going well when we were met at the station to be assisted to the platform --- we were taken to a new lift.
(1)Unfortunately the new lift didn't work.....and they brought a really ingenious machine out. Its propulsion looked a bit like that on a tank, and it walked up the two flights of steps to the first platform. We then ran (because by now it was almost time for the train to leave) We just barely got on the train in time... whew ---
(2)We were to change trains in Crewe --- that was one of those stops where the train goes on --- so you have to get off quickly.....The young man who helped us in Edinburgh had put Kathy's chair in one of the other cars --- he said we would be met in Crewe --- which we believed because Kathy had made these arrangements the day before! BUT when we got to Crewe -- it was toss bags to platform time -- no one in sight. Our bags had been buried under tons of other bags which I had to excavate before I could toss them....and then there was the matter of where her chair was!!! I yelled at a train attendant for help (I could see the train leaving with her chair on it!!) He headed off to find a chair --- when he started toward the building --- I yelled NO --- IT IS ON THIS TRAIN SOMEWHERE -- he finally understood --- and we got the chair off just moments before the train pulled out of the station.
(3) When we arrived at Hollyhead to catch the ferry to Ireland, Kathy stopped to check her tickets at the counter and was told the ferry left at 1:50 p.m. It was just then about 1:00 so we went to the little cafe to grab a sandwich --- at about 1:40 Kathy asked me to check on where the queue was for the Ferry --- I asked the same young woman where we were to line up....and she blithely informed me that we had missed the ferry!
I dashed back got Kathy --- and she asked the girl why no one told us to line up earlier --- (after all this same girl said 1:50 --- and we were early by our standards) The young woman looked at her incredulous --- why didn't you ask? We didn't know to ask was the simple answer....I guess most people ride the ferry frequently and know these things --- but we certainly didn't...

All was not lost --- there was a second ferry company --- and their ferry was leaving --- shortly --- if we hurried we could catch it and hurry we did. We made it by the skin of our teeth ---- and settled in for the trip across the Irish sea. It was intermittently sunny, cloudy, misty, and mostly calm (well relatively). There was a cinema on board the ferry, and duty free shops, and game rooms and lounges and lot of noise! Noise from children running to and fro and people laughing and talking. In Britain public places are quiet --- trains are hushed --- but this was not quite at all! I continued reading the murder mystery that Kathy finished last week, Elizabeth George --- set in Cornwall...and Kathy had picked up a historical fiction -- having just finished a couple of Cotswold mysteries.

The rest of the trip was uneventful --- we caught a cab to the train in Dublin, and that trip had no train changes --- The Irish countryside so far is very beautiful ---- hedgerows dividing fields, cottages, sheep, oats and other crops that seem to be doing very well in this wet year. The temperature is pretty cool and I notice that even local people are wearing layered sweaters or light coats.....so I am not crazy!!!! It is cold.

We were reduced to eating dinner on the train --- which meant that we had sandwiches again---- this time --- chicken pannini -- (chicken and stuffing between bread --- argh.......what I wouldn't give for a McDonalds salad!!!!!!

We had to catch a cab to our hotel the juries --- which is very lovely --- and I actually have FREE INTERNET!!!! but again....I have heard bad things about Internet connectivity in Ireland --- so we will see when we head out tomorrow for Killarny.......

Kathy was kind enough to schedule us in Cork --- because my great-grandparents came from this county.....wish I had time to visit a library and do a bit of research....The family name was Grum and the story goes that a curse was put on the family that all the male children of my Great grandfather would die violent deaths.....and many of them did.....Deep in conversation with the woman next to me on the train ---- I was--- telling this tale--I was --- and her hanging on every word and telling about her granny who used to put curses on folk and they came true!!!! It think I am in IRELAND --- the land of stories and magic....

It is an early day tomorrow --- so this may be my last post until I get to Shannon on Saturday.....We shall see.

The trip to Edinburgh was pleasant enough and speedy......until we got about 50 miles from the city and started to look for a place to spend the night! We found several places in the shadow of a large nuclear plant --- Seeing nuclear plant towers was a bit unnerving so we drove on. The problem was that in a strange country you have no idea where to find the streets on which lodging is likely to be found. We found several places with rooms upstairs and no lift, one really elegant place in an old Inn that was too expensive, and finally we found a Premier Inn -- this is a little like a Days Inn and it was next to a restaurant that resembled Denney's or IHOP with a pub attached. The accommodations were clean and comfortable, but best of all there was a young woman working the desk who made the whole experience good.We were desperate for a laundromat -- but these are hard to find in the UK as well.

The kind young woman at the desk offered to let me use the Hotel's laundry facilities. "I don't know how to use the machines," She said, "I live at home and my Mum still does my laundry." I said, I was confident that together we could surmount the differences in equipment from the U.S. to the U.K. If she was willing, so was I. We figured it out together and our clothes were once again clean and dry! The young woman had completed two years of her college and was hoping to use her education to work with poor children in the city through police departments. She'd been involved in a program to help them enjoy fruits and vegetables -- to encourage eating properly. Reading was another thing they worked to get the children interested in. Her passion and excitement showed as she talked about the children she'd been working with. She works in a volunteer position during the summer, earns money for school at the Inn and lives at home so she can afford to work toward her goal. I learned all this as I sat reading and waiting for the cycles to run through in the laundry. Our clothes were better off at the hotel laundry than if we had found a laundrette. The laundry in Nice was very hard on clothes since you could not control the dryer at all....here I could set the dryer for cool temperatures for Kathy's clothes and high for our jeans and cottons! I also was able to have Internet access for the fist time in days and got caught up on my email and my posts about our whereabouts. Only a few places have provided access for free with accommodation --- usual cost is 10 pounds for 24 hours.

In the morning we began our drive into Edinburgh at 8:00 a.m. and had the car returned by 9:30 --- no scratches!!!!! We climbed in a cab and were delivered to our hotel (Jurys Inn) on the Royal Mile just across from the train station. After we got checked in at 11:00 we started to explore.

Our first stop was John Knox House, a great little museum and very nicely done it is not so busy and it therefore feels a bit like it might have when he was present there. It is also be coincidence the storytelling center--- and interesting combination. From one of the windows you can see the Cathedral where he preached! The house is the oldest remaining original construction for which history exists.. it was left mostly untouched because of its association with Knox! The spiral stone staircase leading up three flights is a wonder in itself. How these folks managed to do these stairs with ease and grace without breaking their necks is a puzzle in itself. There is a book shop here where you can buy books about Knox or storytelling....and performances by storytellers occur daily.

We were hungry and a bit chilled so we stopped in for lunch at the Forsythe Tea Room. It is in a small Close and is perhaps 24 feet long and 8 feet across built as it is in the side of one of the buildings on the close. There are little archways all along the main road that lead into courtyards with names above the arch telling you which Close you are entering. In these little courtyards are homes and shops.

The tea shop was run by an older woman probably in her 60s who is obviously suffering with RA -- but her face is radiant with good cheer. I notice that there is a table with spiritual books on it next to the register. Directly behind the register is the area where she cooks whatever you prefer from the days menu. Looking down the corridor at the tables there are tea towels for sale, tea cozies, and other small items --- such as tea cups and mugs. The Scots, like the Irish seem to love potatoes. There are even shops that serve nothing but baked potatoes which have a multitude of stuffings!! So I ordered a potato, tea and lemon curd tart. Kathy had a bacon and egg sandwich with apricot tart....of of course we had TEA!! It was lovely. While we waited the postman came in and had a bite to eat and a bit to drink as he delivered her post....In the course of the conversation I brought up the spiritual books next to the register and she pulled out her devotional and we shared the days entry. It was a real blessing for me, since I left my Disciplines (the book I use for daily devotional in Denmark!) It is strange, but you can't find a Bible in the drawer in Europe the way you do in the U.S. This lovely lady, works hard, keeps a cheerful countenance, and offers springs of living tea to any who crosses her path. By the time we left the shop had filled up with people, and I wondered at her ability to deal with all the carrying and walking! I believe that this place is probably bathed in prayer by people who cross her path and realize her gift and her difficulty. I said a prayer as I left, and hope to remember her in prayer even on my return home.

The rain picked up and our walk down the steep path to the palace was very wet and a wee bit windy. Holyroodhouse Palace -- the residence of the Queen -- once a year ---- in June--- is part of the National Trust and still a functioning place for events of state significance. The street is called the Royal mile because it is bordered by royal residences! Edinburgh Castle is at the other end. Palaces are residences and Castles were intended to be fortifications for the protection of an area. We are just about half way between the two landmarks. Edinburgh is (at least in this part) very hilly. The walk to the Palace was steeply down hill, and on either side of this street are shops specializing in Scottish crafts, tartans, Celtic jewelry, cafes, pubs, other hotels, and something we do not have in America. The Cancer Society, the Heart Association, Oxfam, and the organization supporting animals (like our SPCA) all often have shops on the High street (this is usually the name of the street that runs through a village or town).

Holyroodhouse was the palace where Mary Queen of Scots had her apartments and those are especially interesting with her private alter in her room. Her room is in the oldest part of the palace which has walls that are at least 3 feet thick. The other state apartments are lovely, but nothing as opulent as those of Europe. There is a distinctly different flavor of opulence when you cross the channel. Even in London the style is heavier and darker. More like a hunting lodge in some respects. I felt this same sense in Neuschuanstein in Germany. Dark heavily carved wood everywhere and chandeliers made of antlers instead of Crystal. I do not even have a name to give it....Baroque and Roccoco don't seem to apply. Then as you go North style becomes more spare still. The ceilings in the palaces are white plaster leaves and flowers in relief with perhaps only one ceiling fresco in the entire building. Their was a lot of Oak paneling --- from which may have hung tapestries. Kathy used the same elevator as the Queen in the palace (seems she has been getting the royal treatment in the palaces everywhere!). The docents all wear the Stewart Tartan to honor the Stewart Kings of England --- and they are quite fond of the Queen --and "Queen Mum" who both were partial to Scotland --- spending the month of August at Balmoral. A portrait of the Queen Mum hangs over the fireplace in one of the rooms.

Across from the palace is the new Scottish Parliament building. Designed by a Spaniard, there is still a lot of controversy about it. Not only does it NOT fit into this landscape --- it really doesn't look like a building that fits into any earthly landscape. It is shaped in bits and pieces in unconventional shapes some of which do not look habitable. It has a cold stainless steel exterior with rods of wood that look like someone might have been designing a shelter in the woods lining the side. Not only did it run over the estimated cost of building, but it is apparently badly insulated (a very bad thing in a climate where I am chilled to the bone in mid-July, but the windows do not open --- something unheard of here! One of the locals told me that "Tony Blair made us build this." The rain continued to come down heavily or lightly, but it was consistent in one thing, it came down! I was wet to the bone and chilled as well. When we finally got back to the hotel, I curled up and read under a blanket for more than an hour before I felt warm enough to uncover my arms. We slept in on our second day in Edinburgh.
2nd day Edinburgh.
Kathy had to get the train tickets for Ireland (they got so wet on the cruise to St. Tropez that they stuck together) so she was off to the train station this morning and left me to finish my computer entry and explore a bit. I was to be back to the hotel by 3 p.m. so that we could head off to Edinburgh Castle and then out to dinner. We need to be back early tonight since the train leaves at 6:30 a.m. so that is an early day!! We will have to get a grab and go bag for breakfast.

I went back up the Close and discovered an old church which had been demolished and partially restored. It is a museum now featuring brass rubbings. Then I headed up to the Royal Mile. Just as it did yesterday, it rained intermittently. Today I was smart enough to wear the pink Royal Caribbean rain/windbreaker that I bought -- but even that didn't completely keep me dry. My jeans were wet well up my calves, my shoes were soaked as were my socks, and my neck and shoulders were wet from rain migrating in through the opening at my neck! It was not a warm rain, and I stopped into Starbucks just to get warmed up a bit. There were two managers standing near the door, and I asked one if they used the same coffee that I got in the U.S. The one fellow was quite concerned that it didn't taste like what I was used to and brought me a french press and a bag of beans that he thought would taste more like home.
I told him that was unnecessary and that I wasn't complaining --- just asking---but he insisted that I take this and enjoy a good cup of coffee tonight in my room. So now I have a lovely Starbucks coffee press.

I darted into another Scottish shop and finally found two scarves that were McIntyre clan scarves! Apparently only the top 40 tartans are common and if you have a more unusual family name -- it is difficult to find that tartan--so I bought them -- then and there! The young woman was a student and this was a family owned store -- so we struck up a conversation and had quite a good conversation. As in so many places she commented on the fact that Bush had not promoted a sense of multi-culturalism -- She expressed her hopes for President Obama. This has been a universal experience for us....thumbs up for Obama.
I walked on up the mile headed for the Cathedral, but as I came closer I discovered that it was blocked off. There was a funeral for a young fireman going on. He had been killed in the line of duty and there were hundreds of firefighters and policemen standing in the rain in their dress uniforms outside the old cathedral. Flowers were strewn on the entry and the service was being broadcast outside for everyone to hear. I listen for a while and realized that this was going to go on for some time yet, and that it would be difficult if not impossible to get in and back to the hotel to meet Kathy at 3:00 -- so I started down the cobblestone street with rivers of water cascading over my feet and water dripping from my hair into my eyes, making it difficult to see.

After a moment to put my feet up we left for Edinburgh Castle at the top of the Royal mile--the desk clerk told us that we could catch the bus to the top of the hill ---- which didn't exactly turn out to be true! Actually it did take us up the hill --- but nowhere near the castle.....the hill was too steep for me to push Kathy, so she had to walk using the wheel chair to steady her on the cobbles. When we actually got to the top we found that stands had been set up for the Edinburgh Tattoo. A tattoo is a military parade, and it seems like these are really popular here in the UK. I watched the Windsor Tattoo which is the one the Queen has participated in even.....and Prince Phillip just stopped competing at the age of 87 in an event --- these Brits seem to be a very tough lot indeed!

Ordinarily the landscape would be easily viewed from this spot --- but with the stands you could not see the city at all. Once at the castle, we found that there are lovely arrangements for people who are mobility challenged and after purchasing a ticket we were picked up in a car and carried to the top of the Castle. This makes the preparations for protection at Stirling Castle look like child's play. The oldest building in Edinburgh is part of the castle -- it is a chapel that was erected around 1120 and was thought to be a part of an early royal residence. The rest long since was destroyed and the rest of the castle dates to around 1500 and much of it was built during the reign of James VI.

Mary Queen of Scots hated having to stay in the castle --- because it was apparently cold and drafty, not nearly as nice as Holyroodhouse, but the fortification was sturdy indeed, and afforded a clear vision of anyone coming by sea would have been visible for miles! There is a war memorial on the castle grounds which was a church that was used as barracks and then converted into a war memorial at the conclusion of WWI. It is similar to the Vietnam memorial in that each regiment has a book in which its dead are named. This memorial now goes on as Scots are killed in Afghanistan. Some of the memorial bears the marks of the age -- looking very much art deco in style, but the whole of it is quite beautiful with stained glass windows depicting war in each season. A statue stands over the entrance with her sword broken in half -- indicating the belief at the time that this war would end all war!

At 5:30 we left the Castle and walked a short block DOWN (down is good) the Royal Mile to the Witchery. This restaurant was reviewed as one of the best in Edinburgh...and for me that was true. We both had the heirloom tomato salad with baby herbs, but I chose local Salmon (which sat on a bed of baby asparagus with sweet potato), and heather honey parfait with Angus strawberries. Kathy did not have such good luck. She had beef (which was probably made from one of those Highland cows that we saw on the isle of Skye because it was really tough!) She had Oat cakes with local cheddar, chutney and preserves for desert. The restaurant was in a building that had been continuously occupied for the past 4 centuries. It is called the Witchery because it was the site where so many witches were burned at the stake during the time of James VI! The interior is slightly below the street level so the windows are maybe at thigh height if you are walking down the street. The walls are elegantly carved dark oak and the ceiling is typical of that time with patterned painting and beam construction.

Our waiter untied the red ribbons on our napkins and placed them in our laps --- an indication that this was certainly not a pub! Each table had a brass candlestick with a lighted candle in addition to a couple of votives so the entire room was lit by candle light -- a beautiful touch indeed. Our meals were from a promotional which gave us three courses for 30 pounds! I didn't look at the prices on the menu for the other items since I probably would have fainted dead away!
As we sat waiting for our meal I could watch the legs of pedestrians and occasionally someone would sit down on the curb to eat something. Now and again people would notice the windows and lean over to peer in. Children were just the right size to watch. Some were dancing and jumping up and down in excitement and some were crying because their little legs had simply worn out! Suddenly the sun burst through the clouds -- not timidly but as if it wanted to retake the sky! When we left the restaurant it was sunny and bright, but windy and cool. We walked down the street to the hotel. Kathy does quite well using her feet to keep from running wild through the streets so I (for a change had to keep pace with her!).

Tomorrow we will arrive in Ireland rather late in Cork I think --- I don't know what kind of Internet access to expect....

The trip to Edinburgh was pleasant enough and speedy......until we got about 50 miles from the city and started to look for a place to spend the night! We found several places in the shadow of a large nuclear plant --- Seeing nuclear plant towers was a bit unnerving so we drove on. The problem was that in a strange country you have no idea where to find the streets on which lodging is likely to be found. We found several places with rooms upstairs and no lift, one really elegant place in an old Inn that was too expensive, and finally we found a Premier Inn -- this is a little like a Days Inn and it was next to a restaurant that resembled Denney's or IHOP with a pub attached. The accommodations were clean and comfortable, but best of all there was a young woman working the desk who made the whole experience good.
We were desperate for a laundromat -- but these are hard to find in the UK as well. The kind young woman at the desk offered to let me use the Hotel's laundry facilities. "I don't know how to use the machines," She said, "I live at home and my Mum still does my laundry." I said, I was confident that together we could surmount the differences in equipment from the U.S. to the U.K. If she was willing, so was I. We figured it out together and our clothes were once again clean and dry! The young woman had completed two years of her college and was hoping to use her education to work with poor children in the city through police departments. She'd been involved in a program to help them enjoy fruits and vegetables -- to encourage eating properly. Reading was another thing they worked to get the children interested in. Her passion and excitement showed as she talked about the children she'd been working with. She works in a volunteer position during the summer, earns money for school at the Inn and lives at home so she can afford to work toward her goal. I learned all this as I sat reading and waiting for the cycles to run through in the laundry. Our clothes were better off at the hotel laundry than if we had found a laundrette. The laundry in Nice was very hard on clothes since you could not control the dryer at all....here I could set the dryer for cool temperatures for Kathy's clothes and high for our jeans and cottons!
I also was able to have Internet access for the fist time in days and got caught up on my email and my posts about our whereabouts. Only a few places have provided access for free with accommodation --- usual cost is 10 pounds for 24 hours.
In the morning We began our drive into Edinburgh at 8:00 a.m. and had the car returned by 9:30 --- no scratches!!!!! We climbed in a cab and were delivered to our hotel (Jurys Inn) on the Royal Mile just across from the train station. After we got checked in at 11:00 we started to explore.

Our first stop was John Knox House, a great little museum and very nicely done it is not so busy and it therefore feels a bit like it might have when he was present there. It is also be coincidence the storytelling center--- and interesting combination. From one of the windows you can see the Cathedral where he preached! The house is the oldest remaining original construction for which history exists.. it was left mostly untouched because of its association with Knox! The spiral stone staircase leading up three flights is a wonder in itself. How these folks managed to do these stairs with ease and grace without breaking their necks is a puzzle in itself. There is a book shop here where you can buy books about Knox or storytelling....and performances by storytellers occur daily.
We were hungry and a bit chilled so we stopped in for lunch at the Forsythe Tea Room. It is in a small Close and is perhaps 24 feet long and 8 feet across built as it is in the side of one of the buildings on the close. There are little archways all along the main road that lead into courtyards with names above the arch telling you which Close you are entering. In these little courtyards are homes and shops.
The tea shop was run by an older woman probably in her 60s who is obviously suffering with RA -- but her face is radiant with good cheer. I notice that there is a table with spiritual books on it next to the register. Directly behind the register is the area where she cooks whatever you prefer from the days menu. Looking down the corridor at the tables there are tea towels for sale, tea cozies, and other small items --- such as tea cups and mugs. The Scots, like the Irish seem to love potatoes. There are even shops that serve nothing but baked potatoes which have a multitude of stuffings!! So I ordered a potato, tea and lemon curd tart. Kathy had a bacon and egg sandwich with apricot tart....of of course we had TEA!! It was lovely.
While we waited the postman came in and had a bite to eat and a bit to drink as he delivered her post....In the course of the conversation I brought up the spiritual books next to the register and she pulled out her devotional and we shared the days entry. It was a real blessing for me, since I left my Disciplines (the book I use for daily devotional in Denmark!) It is strange, but you can't find a Bible in the drawer in Europe the way you do in the U.S. This lovely lady, works hard, keeps a cheerful countenance, and offers springs of living tea to any who crosses her path. By the time we left the shop had filled up with people, and I wondered at her ability to deal with all the carrying and walking! I believe that this place is probably bathed in prayer by people who cross her path and realize her gift and her difficulty. I said a prayer as I left, and hope to remember her in prayer even on my return home.
The rain picked up and our walk down the steep path to the palace was very wet and a wee bit windy. Holyroodhouse Palace -- the residence of the Queen -- once a year ---- in June--- is part of the National Trust and still a functioning place for events of state significance. The street is called the Royal mile because it is bordered by royal residences! Edinburgh Castle is at the other end. Palaces are residences and Castles were intended to be fortifications for the protection of an area. We are just about half way between the two landmarks. Edinburgh is (at least in this part) very hilly. The walk to the Palace was steeply down hill, and on either side of this street are shops specializing in Scottish crafts, tartans, Celtic jewelry, cafes, pubs, other hotels, and something we do not have in America. The Cancer Society, the Heart Association, Oxfam, and the organization supporting animals (like our SPCA) all often have shops on the High street (this is usually the name of the street that runs through a village or town. there is even a name for a few houses and post by the side of the road here --- hamlet)

Holyroodhouse was the palace where Mary Queen of Scots had her apartments and those are especially interesting with her private alter in her room. Her room is in the oldest part of the palace which has walls that are at least 3 feet thick. The other state apartments are lovely, but nothing as opulent as those of Europe. There is a distinctly different flavor of opulence when you cross the channel. Even in London the style is heavier and darker. More like a hunting lodge in some respects. I felt this same sense in Neuschuanstein in Germany. Dark heavily carved wood everywhere and chandeliers made of antlers instead of Crystal. I do not even have a name to give it....Baroque and Roccoco don't seem to apply. Then as you go North style becomes more spare still. The ceilings in the palaces are white plaster leaves and flowers in relief with perhaps only one ceiling fresco in the entire building. Their was a lot of Oak paneling --- from which may have hung tapestries.
Kathy used the same elevator as the Queen in the palace (seems she has been getting the royal treatment in the palaces everywhere!). The docents all wear the Stewart Tartan to honor the Stewart Kings of England --- and they are quite fond of the Queen --and "Queen Mum" who both were partial to Scotland --- spending the month of August at Balmoral. A portrait of the Queen Mum hangs over the fireplace in one of the rooms. Across from the palace is the new Scottish Parliament building. Designed by a Spaniard, there is still a lot of controversy about it. Not only does it NOT fit into this landscape --- it really doesn't look like a building that fits into any earthly landscape. It is shaped in bits and pieces in unconventional shapes some of which do not look habitable.

It has a cold stainless steel exterior with rods of wood that look like someone might have been designing a shelter in the woods lining the side. Not only did it run over the estimated cost of building, but it is apparently badly insulated (a very bad thing in a climate where I am chilled to the bone in mid-July, but the windows do not open --- something unheard of here! One of the locals told me that "Tony Blair made us build this."

The rain continued to come down heavily or lightly, but it was consistent in one thing, it came down! I was wet to the bone and chilled as well. When we finally got back to the hotel, I curled up and read under a blanket for more than an hour before I felt warm enough to uncover my arms. We slept in on our second day in Edinburgh.

2nd day Edinburgh.

Kathy had to get the train tickets for Ireland (they got so wet on the cruise to St. Tropez that they stuck together) so she was off to the train station this morning and left me to finish my computer entry and explore a bit. I was to be back to the hotel by 3 p.m. so that we could head off to Edinburgh Castle and then out to dinner. We need to be back early tonight since the train leaves at 6:30 a.m. so that is an early day!! We will have to get a grab and go bag for breakfast.

I went back up the Close and discovered an old church which had been demolished and partially restored. It is a museum now featuring brass rubbings. Then I headed up to the Royal Mile. Just as it did yesterday, it rained intermittently. Today I was smart enough to wear the pink Royal Caribbean rain/windbreaker that I bought -- but even that didn't completely keep me dry. My jeans were wet well up my calves, my shoes were soaked as were my socks, and my neck and shoulders were wet from rain migrating in through the opening at my neck!

It was not a warm rain, and I stopped into Starbucks just to get warmed up a bit. There were two managers standing near the door, and I asked one if they used the same coffee that I got in the U.S. The one fellow was quite concerned that it didn't taste like what I was used to and brought me a french press and a bag of beans that he thought would taste more like home.

I told him that was unnecessary and that I wasn't complaining --- just asking---but he insisted that I take this and enjoy a good cup of coffee tonight in my room. So now I have a lovely Starbucks coffee press.I darted into another Scottish shop and finally found two scarves that were McIntyre clan scarves! Apparently only the top 40 tartans are common and if you have a more unusual family name -- it is difficult to find that tartan--so I bought them -- then and there! The young woman was a student and this was a family owned store -- so we struck up a conversation and had quite a good conversation. As in so many places she commented on the fact that Bush had not promoted a sense of multi-culturalism -- She expressed her hopes for President Obama. This has been a universal experience for us....thumbs up for Obama.

I walked on up the mile headed for the Cathedral, but as I came closer I discovered that it was blocked off. There was a funeral for a young fireman going on. He had been killed in the line of duty and there were hundreds of firefighters and policemen standing in the rain in their dress uniforms outside the old cathedral. Flowers were strewn on the entry and the service was being broadcast outside for everyone to hear. I listen for a while and realized that this was going to go on for some time yet, and that it would be difficult if not impossible to get in and back to the hotel to meet Kathy at 3:00 -- so I started down the cobblestone street with rivers of water cascading over my feet and water dripping from my hair into my eyes, making it difficult to see.

After a moment to put my feet up we left for Edinburgh Castle at the top of the Royal mile--the desk clerk told us that we could catch the bus to the top of the hill ---- which didn't exactly turn out to be true! Actually it did take us up the hill --- but nowhere near the castle.....the hill was too steep for me to push Kathy, so she had to walk using the wheel chair to steady her on the cobbles. When we actually got to the top we found that stands had been set up for the Edinburgh Tattoo. A tattoo is a military parade, and it seems like these are really popular here in the UK. I watched the Windsor Tattoo which is the one the Queen has participated in even.....and Prince Phillip just stopped competing at the age of 87 in an event --- these Brits seem to be a very tough lot indeed!

Ordinarily the landscape would be easily viewed from this spot --- but with the stands you could not see the city at all. Once at the castle, we found that there are lovely arrangements for people who are mobility challenged and after purchasing a ticket we were picked up in a car and carried to the top of the Castle. This makes the preparations for protection at Stirling Castle look like child's play. The oldest building in Edinburgh is part of the castle -- it is a chapel that was erected around 1120 and was thought to be a part of an early royal residence. The rest long since was destroyed and the rest of the castle dates to around 1500 and much of it was built during the reign of James VI.

Mary Queen of Scots hated having to stay in the castle --- because it was apparently cold and drafty, not nearly as nice as Holyroodhouse, but the fortification was sturdy indeed, and afforded a clear vision of anyone coming by sea would have been visible for miles! There is a war memorial on the castle grounds which was a church that was used as barracks and then converted into a war memorial at the conclusion of WWI. It is similar to the Vietnam memorial in that each regiment has a book in which its dead are named. This memorial now goes on as Scots are killed in Afghanistan. Some of the memorial bears the marks of the age -- looking very much art deco in style, but the whole of it is quite beautiful with stained glass windows depicting war in each season. A statue stands over the entrance with her sword broken in half -- indicating the belief at the time that this war would end all war!

At 5:30 we left the Castle and walked a short block DOWN (down is good) the Royal Mile to the Witchery. This restaurant was reviewed as one of the best in Edinburgh...and for me that was true. We both had the heirloom tomato salad with baby herbs, but I chose local Salmon (which sat on a bed of baby asparagus with sweet potato), and heather honey parfait with Angus strawberries. Kathy did not have such good luck. She had beef (which was probably made from one of those Highland cows that we saw on the isle of Skye because it was really tough!) She had Oat cakes with local cheddar, chutney and preserves for desert.

The restaurant was in a building that had been continuously occupied for the past 4 centuries. It is called the Witchery because it was the site where so many witches were burned at the stake during the time of James VI! The interior is slightly below the street level so the windows are maybe at thigh height if you are walking down the street. The walls are elegantly carved dark oak and the ceiling is typical of that time with patterned painting and beam construction.

Our waiter untied the red ribbons on our napkins and placed them in our laps --- an indication that this was certainly not a pub! Each table had a brass candlestick with a lighted candle in addition to a couple of votives so the entire room was lit by candle light -- a beautiful touch indeed. Our meals were from a promotional which gave us three courses for 30 pounds! I didn't look at the prices on the menu for the other items since I probably would have fainted dead away!

As we sat waiting for our meal I could watch the legs of pedestrians and occasionally someone would sit down on the curb to eat something. Now and again people would notice the windows and lean over to peer in. Children were just the right size to watch. Some were dancing and jumping up and down in excitement and some were crying because their little legs had simply worn out! Suddenly the sun burst through the clouds -- not timidly but as if it wanted to retake the sky! When we left the restaurant it was sunny and bright, but windy and cool. We walked down the street to the hotel. Kathy does quite well using her feet to keep from running wild through the streets so I (for a change had to keep pace with her!).

Tomorrow we will arrive in Ireland rather late in Cork I think --- after many changes of train and a ferry ride in addition to possible taxi rides as well. This may be my last post for a while, since I have no idea what kind of Internet access I can expect in Ireland!