Author: David T. Macknet

June 7, 2009 found us back in Glasgow, wondering why we’d only bought a single book of postcards from the Castello del Buonconsiglio, in Trento (on June 3). Such a fabulous castle, and we only bought a single book of postcards (which we still have, being greedy that way). Rather than send the postcards out and lose them, we planned to photograph them and turn them into our own postcards (via Moo.com). We still haven’t done so. Perhaps it’s time to make some postcards again?

When we first came to Glasgow we sent out postcard after postcard, trying to stay in touch with people back home. We’ve stopped, though, for some reason. Probably because we’ve run out of postcards, for one thing, but … somehow, it just doesn’t seem necessary: we connect with people via email and skype, and have somewhat adapted to living away from home. I miss the postcards, though, if only because they’re such a personal thing – they’re a reaching out in a very tangible way to someone far off, saying that they’re important enough to compose something in ink, on paper.

Expect a postcard, people. Moo.com will be sending us a package soon, and then we’ll be dangerous.

-D

In 2000, we were beginning our second summer in Santa Rosa. We’d not really gardened the first summer (we had a pool – we swam a lot). This summer, though, we began to garden in earnest, renting the big rototiller, having soil amendment brought in by the truckload, and … growing things. Santa Rosa was truly home: we stayed in that house for close on 4 years, and only moved out because the landlord was an idiot and divorced his wife, so had to move back in (the jerk). Just when we’d gotten the soil right, too!

In 2003, we were still living in the same house, in Santa Rosa, and I was getting ready to graduate from USF with my first Master’s degree. USF was a truly fabulous school. I’m glad to hear that they’re incorporating their “professional studies” back into the business school, rather than having it as its own college: it being “professional studies” meant that I couldn’t get into a PhD program, so had to go after a second master’s degree, one which was “academic” rather than “professional.” A word of warning to anybody out there who thinks they can do a degree in the evenings, or online, or what have you: that degree may be a stopping point in your education, because “academia” doesn’t see those kinds of degrees as being proper degrees. They’re just learning a skill. They may as well be tradesmen certifications.

Ahh, 2008. We’d been away for 9 months, and were very eager to get back to California (we’d forgotten the heat). We saved £50 on our tickets by flying through Minneapolis. It wasn’t worth it, as we had to wait an extra three or four hours because of the rain in Minneapolis (they won’t let anybody out onto the runway if there’s been a lightning strike within the past half-hour … and we saw several huge strikes). A couple we talked to (waiting at the same gate) were off to a Neurology conference. Their luggage was abandoned upon the tarmacadam, just outside of the paltry shelter offered by the jet’s wing. They were wearing very casual clothes for their travel, and doubted that they’d be able to do any better, as their luggage was not waterproof. Gotta love mass transportation.

And, again, more pictures from the Dolomites, from 2009. We stopped on the way down the mountain (oh, the mountain) to take a few pictures of the local graveyard. There were some marvelous headstones (yes, we’re strange like that). We spent the day in Bolzano, just wandering around, enjoying the place. I think we may have gone to coffee there, and been confounded by the idea of putting a credit card into the garage exit-machine. We don’t drive, in Glasgow, and … well, let’s just say that Europe is mad for automatic things. In California? Well, they’d have an attendant. In Bolzano, you just put your card into the little pillar and it charges you. No need for a person to sit around, and all that’s required is that you understand the system.

So many of our travel experiences have been about learning the way that locals do things. I wonder: what do people find strange and intimidating about the USA? So many of the things that we’re accustomed to seem to change from country to country, I wonder what it’s like for others. Do they understand the “exit” sign, rather than seeing the “little green man” everywhere? Are they confused at having to actually interact with a person to get out of a parking garage?

-D

Ahh, 2007. We arrived in Glasgow, and settled into a shiny, clean flat. As to this being June: I think something was amiss with the photo scanner, because we didn’t really get here for another few months. I was still shooting film back then, so am not responsible for that.

In any event, the flat was beautiful, yet remote from school and any place to go grocery shopping. We enjoyed it for awhile, but are much happier to be away from it. 2007 really was a rough year of transition, for us.

2008: the first sign of the heater evil. We were so traumatized by the whole incident with the boiler in our Angel Building flat. Carbon monoxide, endless workmen, no central heat. When we first found out about the issue, the gas man told us to just leave. He said that it’d take months to resolve. We couldn’t believe him. Oh, woe. Months without heat later, we finally gave up.

In 2009, though, we were happily ensconced in a new flat, and were off to the Dolomites for a vacation. For those of you who don’t know us very well, you have to understand: we usually drag someone else along. This is probably part of our upbringing (well, my upbringing), and has to do with vacations being learning experiences, carried out in a large group (3 siblings, here). So, it was an odd thing for us, going off somewhere by ourselves, just … seeing things, going where we wanted, and not being obligated to be anywhere for any reason.

-D

It’s time for another In Retrospect post, a “remember-what-we-were-doing-then” type of thing that serves to remind us of where we’ve been, and how far we’ve come (or gone, as the case may be). We’ve traveled far in the past ten or eleven years – in retrospect:

Taken June 1, 1999. We’d made our way out to Rouge et Noir, on the Marin coast. We loved to visit them because of their wonderful cheese factory, where, if you were lucky, you could watch them making Brie and Camembert. The factory had been around since 1865, out there in the wilds of Marin. Sometimes we’d visit just to sit on the benches and look at the ducks, other times we’d buy some cheese and a loaf of bread, and carry away the makings of our picnic further up along the coast.

4 years later, June 1, 2003, found us at the University of San Francisco to pick up D’s graduation gown. We took the opportunity of the emptiness of the cathedral to stop and take a few pictures. There’s a certain loveliness to this vast old space, isn’t there? D. didn’t have a tripod back then. Or, at least, he wasn’t dragging it everywhere as he does now. *Ahem.*

D. had finished his first Master’s degree (or would within the month), and we were so relieved to have the long slog be over. If only we’d known! Although he did apply to a few programs before and after graduating from USF, it was to take us another four years to finally get D. back into school, and this time to stay on for the PhD!

Another 4 years go by, to find us at June 1, 2007. We woke up early to take pictures of the sunrise and to get to the garden well before the blasting heat of June in California. T.’s little succulent, rescued from a “refrigerator pot” (some idiot had decided that a plant would look good stuck to a refrigerator, so glued it into a pot – yes, glued, soil and all) had sent up its first wee flower. We’d never seen it flower, and didn’t really know when we would again: D. had applied to Glasgow, and we were waiting to see whether anything would come of it.

Just a year later found us moving into our second flat, here in Glasgow. D. had already committed to doing the PhD, and we moved into what we hoped would be a better flat. Regular readers well know it didn’t turn out that way, but we loved it anyway, if only for its stained-glass windows. The neighbor with the six food speakers, the boiler troubles that left us without central heating or hot water for three months, the darkness … well, how could we have known?

And, finally, June 1 last year found us in the Dolomite Mountains of Italy, taking a tram up the side of the mountain near Bolzano to eat … well, food which was more Austrian than Italian. It was a wonderfully stormy trip, with lots of rain and wild wind, yet not too chilly, either. The sky above the Dolomites was nearly as dramatic as that above Glasgow, and we truly enjoyed the trip, for all that it was a strange place to people unfamiliar with Northern Italy. In the old stone castles, in the sun-drenched town squares, over cups of thick hot chocolate and overlooking miles of vineyards, it was blessedly peaceful: the perfect antidote for deadlines and hurry.

Who knows what we’ll do today? Happy June.