No Discernable Plan

Inspirational song: Cracklin' Rosie (Neil Diamond)

For our 10th anniversary, the man and I finally got our honeymoon trip. We took every bit of annual leave I had earned at the library (down to the hour), and spent 9 days driving through Scotland. We didn't have a specific plan in mind. We flew into London, rented a car, and then just drove northwest. We renewed our vows in a field in Gretna Green, just the two of us. And then we drove clockwise around the country, stopping when we were tired, wherever we found an available room in a bed and breakfast. The only schedule we had going in was that we thought we would spend a couple days in Edinburgh. Instead, we fell in love with Inverness, and stayed there for three days, taking day trips around the area, and staying at our perfect little B&B. We loved Inverness so much that it forever became my "if I won the lottery, I would buy a vacation home here" town. We ended up burning through all the time allotted for Edinburgh, and spent a single day there, before driving off to spend a night in Haddington. I think we made the correct choices. It was more our speed than the big city.

One of the day trips out of Inverness was to the historic battlefield at Culloden Moor. It was quietly beautiful, for its tragic history. The tourist's paths are gravel, that wind around the stone markers that show where each clan fell. After hearing the story of the battle, I stepped off the path one time, to feel the spongy ground. It was oddly soft and springy. I tried to imagine fighting in a sleeting rain on that surface, and I couldn't see me doing it well at all.

This was a long way around to talk about my Park. It took me three tries over two days to mow the whole back side this weekend. I had to keep stopping to unclog the mower, pulling out the clumps of wet grass choking the blades. I had to tip it over and clean it a few times, and then wait for the flooded engine to drain out again. Between all the rain, the sandy soil of this region, and what I'm guessing is widespread mole or gopher activity, the ground felt exactly like that squishy battlefield. I don't think I liked noticing that.

I had an earworm the whole time I mowed today. I kept singing Cracklin' Rosie to myself, over and over. I think it was a result of surfing through the decade channels on the car radio. I had to look it up and watch a video of it to try to get it out of my head (unsuccessfully). Reading the comments, I learned things I must have been too young to know when I first heard it in childhood. I had no idea it referred to a kind of cheap wine that was the "girlfriend" for the guys who didn't have a real one in a northern Canadian town where men greatly outnumbered the women. Not something I would have learned as a little girl, when it was getting the most airplay.

Speaking of wine, it's time for me to settle in with a mini bottle of wine, in the mini pool, watching a mini bonfire. I shall leave you with a picture of a mini cat from today, and the mini piles of hay I made in the back yard.