Time Delay

No one will be surprised to learn that we are living in a different time zone than 90+% of our readers. But, you might not have thought about all the implications of that time difference. Am such important implications, they are. Not only does it mean carefully planning phone calls so as not to call friends and family in the wee hours of the morning, while they are at work, or long after we should be in bed, but it also means that we often have to wait until the next day to view, first-hand, big entertainment and sporting events.

So, for example, on Thursday nights (in Edinburgh) when I innately want to watch Grey’s Anatomy History Channel, I can't. Because it hasn't actually aired yet. I have to wait until Friday for my fix intellectual stimulation.

Or, last week....when you were all celebrating Superbowl Sunday, at 6:30pm, the Superbowl didn't air here until 11:30pm (which is 6:30pm on the East Coast). While I went to bed (seriously, nothing is that interesting to start watching at 11:30pm), Joe and some friends actually watched the game, live (on the TV) until the wee hours of the morning. Yea, he was tired the next day.

Or, right now. The Olympic figure skating is set to occur today at 4:30pm, PST....which is 12:30AM tomorrow in Edinburgh (weird). So, I can't watch it. I'll have to wait until tomorrow evening when I get home from work.

This really isn't that big of a deal...but, it does mean that you have to be careful not to find out the outcome...afterall, I don't watch Grey's until after it airs and by that point the internet is full of episode recaps. And, if you aren't crazy and don't stay up until the wee hours watching sporting events live, the score will be widely known before you ever get to tune in. Or course, this really isn't a problem for someone who like to read the last page of a book first (of course, I don't actually know anyone like that. Certainly, I wouldn't do such a thing)....

Happy Birthday, Mark!

Happy Birthday, Mark!

Mark, you are one super cool brother-in-law! We love you and hope you have a great birthday.

Acculturation

There are lots of things to get used to, living in a foreign country. I still don't have the hang of everything yet, but I recently realized that I am becoming quite acculturated. The signs that clued me in:

I am no longer fearful that I will be hit by a bus. And, I know which way to look when I cross the street.

It might not sound like much but, I think this sets me apart from the tourists. I mean, I still take pictures in the middle of the city. As soon as a tourist looking for directions hears my American accent, they no longer believe I know the proper directions to where they want to go (and, sometimes, they are right). But, I can safely cross the street.

And that's something.

Narrow Escapes, Part 2

Here is my second account of how I narrowly escaped unwanted police interaction. I am sure I am making my parents so proud with this last two posts.

So, last week, I was at work. For the first time in my history of working at my organization, I was to be the last person in the building and would therefore be responsible for locking up. When I was first hired, I had a very long instruction about locking up procedures. Top point in the lesson:

If you think you are the last person out of the building, check to make sure that you are, in fact, the last person out of the building. (this is called foreshadowing. Are you worried, yet?)

So, I am in a session with a client and a social worker. We are finishing up and so start moving about the room. Suddenly, I hear a noise. I can't quite figure out what it is. No one else seems too worried (the kid or the social worker). Then, it dawns on me....that's the security alarm and it's going off! As I imagine in my head all sorts of scenarios which all end in the police arriving, me being unable to prove that I do in fact work there and subsequently being deported, I quickly head for the security alarm at the other end of the building. And then, my brain goes into overdrive. What's the security code? How long has this thing been going off? WHO LOCKED ME IN? Do they at least put you on a nice plane when you get deported?

I quickly find my wits and punch in the code. The noise stops. I calmly turn to my client and the social worker and apologize for this. I find my keys, unlock the door and allow them to leave. I quickly collect my things and get the heck out of there before the police get there to question me.

I make it out. No one apprehends me.

I later find out....it was my boss who locked me in. And, I'm supposed to have an ID badge.

I've never liked security alarms.

Narrow Escapes

Joe thinks I'm being a bit dramatic about this (dramatic? me? never, I say). But, I think, what's a blog without a little drama?

Within the past 31 days, I have narrowly escaped unwanted contact with the police, twice.

First, there was Boxing Day (2 January). Joe and I were looking forward to spending the day with some friends who had invited us to join them for a Boxing Day dinner. We were to bring the appetizer. Being that it was right after the holidays and I just didn't feel like making anything fancy, we decided to pick up some cheese and crackers and hummus at the store down the street from their home. And, so we set out, a little early, to do our errand. We were shocked (and appalled) to find that the grocery store was closed. On a Saturday. Dazed and confused (and now running late), we decided we'd have to walk to the next store nearby in the hopes that they were open for business. Fortunately, they were. And so, we selected our merchandise and went to pay.

As a side note/story, we were also purchasing alcohol. The drinking age here is 18. The following conversation ensues:

Cashier And, may I ask hold old you are?
A: Um, 30.
C: Ok. You can have your (something we don't understand, but take to mean we can have the beer).

**please note in the above story, she did not get my id. She took my word for it that I was of age.

Now, to continue: as is the custom here, we loaded our purchases into the backpack and I handed the cashier our credit card. Joe left (with the backpack) so that we could get the appetizers there are close to on time as possible. Then, suddenly, the cashier informs me that she needs to see my id. Uh, oh. I don't have id. Joe has it and he, like Elvis, has left the building.

A: Um. I don't have id. My husband has it (lamely gestures to the door where aforementioned husband has exited)
C: Well, I need some way to verify that this is you.
A: Can't you just take my word for it? (smiles sweetly and hopes, in vain)
C: No.
A: Oh, well, I can go get it? I'll just need to go get my husband. He can't be too far yet.
A: (leaves store and sprints up street towards husband. leaves credit card behind. payment has already been made, signature just needs verification)
A: (wondering how in the world husband go so far up the street in so short an amount of time, catches up, gets passport, and begins running back to the store)
A: (arrives at store to see several staff members on the street looking for her. thinks, oh crap)
C: I thought you left without paying
A: No, I just went to get id. Like I told you.
C: I thought you left without paying.
A: No, just had to get my id (thinking: you have my credit card, and I told you I was coming back)
C: I thought you left without paying.
A: (right, roger that). Um...(sheepishly offers up passport)
C: Oh. (verifies signature) Ok.
A: Um. Thanks?
C: Cheers.
A: Uh-huh. Cheers.

And, that friends, is the true story of my first narrow escape from a police encounter.

By the way, did you know that the police here do not carry guns. They do, however, wear bullet-proof vests.

Narrow Escape #2: Coming tomorrow.

St. Anthony's Chapel Ruins

Continuing our quest for riveting blog material, we packed up our lunch and headed out to Holyrood Park (also called Queen's Park, as it is situated just behind the Royal Palace) after church. The park is just at the east end of the city centre and is home to a wide open green space, as well as a set of hills formed by a now extinct volcano. Set among these hills are various lochs (lakes or ponds) and vista points, as well as several interesting geological structures.

The idea for this excursion came after I saw a pond while riding in the car with a coworker earlier in the week. The pond was noticeable because it was full of swans. Really, I've never seen anything like it. It was just covered with them. We were driving at the time though so I didn't get a good look (and, I resisted the urge to ask my colleague for a picture-taking stop for hopefully obvious reasons). In my research to determine just what this little loch was, I discovered that it is situated just underneath the ruins of an old chapel. Perfect, I thought. This little adventure will provide Joe with what interests him most (ruins of religious structures) and me with what interests me most (water and scenic views). (I should note, Joe also really like graves of theologians, but there aren't any in Edinburgh, to my knowledge).

Turns out the loch is called St. Margaret's Loch and is home to a "significant population of swans, geese, and ducks." I personally think this should be renamed to Swan Lake, but surprisingly, no one asked me.



After enjoying the birds, we made the trek up to the ruins. Though not at a very high altitude, the walk up is directly up and a bit of an energy-zapper. Fortunately, the views are well worth the effort.



St. Anthony's Chapel Ruins are the remains of a chapel that possibly dates back to the early 1300s. Although not much is known about the Chapel, it appears that it fell out of use in the 1560s, following the Reformation. It is thought that the chapel consisted of a three-story tower and a three roomed chapel, at one point in time.






Sadly, we are having major camera issues, so were not able to get great pictures of all the sights, nor were we able to get a picture of the two of us together. But, rest assured, we were both there.

Again, another lovely day spent enjoying our new surroundings. Thanks for reading the blog and giving us an excuse to go exploring. Not that we really need an excuse, but it's good motivation, just the same.

Morningside

Yesterday Joe and I set out on a mission: to have new adventures that would result in something interesting to post on the blog. The situation is dire, I told him. I've resorted to posting about laundry. Things must change. And so was born our weekend of fun. Happily, it actually was fun.

Saturday morning we were greeted with clear skies and a very bright sun. It was crisp outside, but we bundled up and prepared for a day spent outdoors. On the agenda for the day: to explore Morningside (an area of Edinburgh) and to locate and tour a park I once caught a glimpse of while riding the bus.

All totaled, we walked about 7 miles and were gone for about 5 hours (we stopped for lunch, to take pictures, and to sit and soak in the scenery).

Outside a florist's shop

Among our favorite sights were some beautiful homes:



I love houses with names. I love it even more when the name is written out in the wrought iron.
We also saw some beautiful churches:



And, happened across a well-known pub (no cameras allowed inside!):


And, finally, we came to our ultimate destination: The Braid Burn Valley Park (Burn, by the way, means river). This is a beautiful little park with a great view of the Pentland Hills. It's on the very south side of Morningside (furthest away from our flat) and has lots of open green space on either side of the Braid Burn. The park is home to 100s of young cherry trees, which blossom in the Spring. We'll definitely have to make it back to see that.





On the way home, we meandered some more, taking in more of the beautiful scenery and the various shops lining the streets. We stopped for lunch at a cute little cafe, The Yellow Cafe, where we warmed up with some homemade soup, delicious bread, and a tasty panini.

All said, it was a really lovely day spent getting to know our not-so-new city and finding some new favorite spots.