Hobbits In Rivendell

A surprising development is taking place in a nearby park. You may remember the site of this development from previous pictures… because it was once a vacant lot full of soggy couches and stained mattresses, all things which were burned in a huge bonfire on Guy Fawkes Night … but now is the site of a playground. A positive step, right?

The playground has a gravel undersurface, covered by a waterproof barrier, a felt liner, and then …sand.

Hm.

Now, not being engineers or park designers, we may not have the right of it, but it seems a mistake to cover an entire playground in sand. It just rains here SO MUCH. We’re afraid the park builders have condemned the neighborhood park to damp, sandy sadness, rather than leaving it as it was: a happy, frolicksome place for the burning of mattresses, rubbish, and whatever else came to hand.

Not to mention the …cats.

We hope they rethink this, and that the park is not going to be the grand kitty-litter palace it looks like it’s turning out to be. (Point of interest: T. played in a sand-filled park like this when she was a child. Her favorite pasttime was sifting through the sand and picking out the cigarette butts. Great game, eh, and it would really work well in Glasgow! C’mon! Everybody play!)

Meanwhile, a little closer to home, there’s Lights! Camera! and indeed, Action! Yes, our wee street and crescent are in the middle of a film or TV show — we have no idea which. By nine a.m., the end of the road was filled with trailers and guys on cherry pickers with big HD cameras. T. did not recognize the camera as an HD, she was just peeved that a man seemed to be filming the house. So, she took a picture of HIM. Then she worried he’d taken a picture of her taking a picture of him…

The big lights went up with their diffusers, and apparently all kinds of drama went on. T… didn’t notice, as she was on her computer, and not hanging about windows all day. It took D. coming from work and saying, “Hey, look out the window!” for her to realize the film crew was still there.

We have gained a greater appreciation of the rigors of being filmed. For one thing, it rained all day, and was windy, which would have made things uncomfortable the guys on the camera lifts. D., who actually walked home from work past the site, reports that he saw scaffolding inside holding more cameras, and someone painting a wall — the fumes from the light and heat must have been intense. And those lights are painfully bright – we had to close the kitchen blinds because every time we turned that direction, our eyes were automatically drawn — and then we were blinded. They were apparently filming daylight in the flat, and we had to laugh — when it is EVER that bright in Glasgow? Maybe the show is set in Australia. Hrm.

They packed up around eight and stood around in the street for awhile afterward, but we still have no better idea of who they were or what the show might be. Suppose we could have asked. Maybe tomorrow, if they show up again.

Meanwhile, all’s quiet in the ‘hood. Except for the car alarms, the feral children shouting in the park, and the man in the slouch hat walking his ferret… Can you believe nobody’s filming?

-D & T

Okay, maybe not angels — there were a few too many low-voiced snarky remarks (which, in public, provoked silent laughter and tears of mirth) and stuck-out tongues for that. But, we were well-entertained last week nonetheless with our guests, whom we’ll call D’Nic & McFlea – previously known as The Littles.

On one hand, once you’ve seen one stately home or castle, you’ve pretty much seen them all. (Yes, SOMEBODY is jaded from having lived in a castle-on-every-third-hill country for almost four years.) On the other — there’s nothing like showing off those castles and stately homes to someone new all over again. And it’s a lot of fun being the tour guides to someone’s first time international flight, first castle, and first time in Scotland. We have played midwife to the birth of a new identity for D’Nic & McFlea, that of traveler. We hope our tourists have developed a love for the wider world that sticks with them, and changes their thinking about who they are, and how far that they can go.

One of McFlea’s funnier repeated comments was, “I expected it –” whatever “it” might have been — “to taste/look/smell/be like the ones at home!” Surprise! Scotland is a whole ‘nother country. It’s amazing how you can know something in your head, but not have it sink in, until you get where you’re going.

At this time, we’d like to give a big shout out to Northern California, especially the SF Bay Area, for taking the Scottish weather for a few days. Thanks Cali! Your days of wild rain, water spouts, high winds and sheer misery enabled us to have a lovely week of mild Spring weather, with temps in the low fifties, light morning fog and clouds. NC, should you feel a need to trade again, let us know! We’re open!

Ah, tourism: curious food (some of us are still bewildered at the scoop of shredded cheese-mayonnaise… stuff that was plopped next to our baked potatoes on Monday), naff – or tasty, depending on who you are – orange drinks (“It’s Made in Scotland from Girders”™), and fast-talking guides. McFlea was fun to watch as she peered intently at the castle tour guides. She has informed us that a Scottish burr is completely understandable if one simply watches the speaker’s mouth. Lip-reading! Who’d have thought! We did not try out her newly learned skills on any taxi drivers or random Glaswegians, as we’re not sure that it would have held up satisfactorily (and what happens if people mumble?). Still, we were pleased that she understood a lot more than any of our previous guests. It might be something to do with age, in some cases – ::cough:: – and the fact that others who visited were also polyglots who were accustomed to letting unknown languages simply flow past them like music. Either way, impressive work, McFlea! (Surprisingly, D’Nic even understood more than we expected, but he just shrugged when we asked him how. He’s got SKILZ, man. Mad skilz.)

D’Nic is one of those …um, quiet types, who apparently has a lot of amusing thoughts on his own and doesn’t say them – until later. He kept us smiling, and one night did a dreadfully accurate impersonation of a shopkeeper who kept calling T. “madam,” much to T’s disgust. With his teensy phone camera – on which he managed to take a number of surprisingly good photographs – he was always wandering off, engaged in capturing the memories. He enjoyed the castles well enough, but he really enjoyed the food — although where he puts it all, truly, no one knows — and getting active.

On our last day, we went out to Braehead to visit Xscape, which is the teen wonderland of the area. It’s a huge indoor mall thing with laser tag, rock walls, video games, an indoor snow ski facility, and tons of junk food restaurants and a few stores. Of course, we only booked the day to go because it was clouding up, and we thought it would rain. Wouldn’t you know it, we had a gloriously gorgeous, sunny day that we spend indoors instead of cycling around Great Cumbrae and bugging our friend Axel. Oh, well, it was still great fun to watch the duo take their 90 minute ski lesson, watch D’Nic swarm up the climbing walls, and take a death-defying 18 meter/50 foot leap from the ceiling – complete with manly scream – and observe them shooting up aliens or whatever in the laser tag room. A good time was definitely had by all, and we can see the draw of Xscape for kids – and older “kids” – sick of the long, dark, inactive days of winter. The place is all neon and 90’s pop music and bright, flashing lights. Definitely fun once in awhile.

They were with us and gone so quickly that we’re mainly left with the memory – like the aftertaste of a really good bite of food. It’s difficult for us to visit home – we go back and try to fit visiting around people’s work schedules, their children, and their other responsibilities. We flit around like nervous hummingbirds, finding it hard to settle in guest beds and are relegated to …visitors, where once we were family. It’s a strange and uncomfortable place to be at times. We find that having people visit US means that we actually see them and get time to interact, play board games, slouch around and watch dumb movies, and generally do all of those mundane activities that are not an event, but … make up a life. This was such a successful visit that we can’t wait to organize the paperwork and marshal the funds to do it again.

…of course, in a different house next time, and in a different country.

And now, the Serious Time sets in. D’s required to turn in a full-draft of his dissertation by 15th of June at the latest; he’s going to make every effort to turn in by the first deadline of May 30 6th (arrrgh, one month!). That means a bit of structured time during the week and on the weekends – we have to set aside play time and social time and work time. T. hopes to finish re-revising her science fiction attempt by the end of April, so that she can turn it in to a freelance editor she’s engaged in May, and then she, too, has to settle in for a long bout of revision for her book due on in Spring 2012, as well as finishing up another project she’s hoping to turn in to her editor by October (fingers crossed).

In the midst of all of this is the inevitable job-hunting and collecting boxes to pack and move…

             =====>BUT.

The sun has remembered to shine again, the nights are warmer, the birds are raucous, and there’s every chance that we have, once again, survived the Big Cold Dark, thank God.

It might even be safe to say Happy Spring.

Until the next snow, then.