Going to miss that Edinburgh when she goes away...

So I just bought my ticket "home" from Edinburgh today. People have been asking Matt and I for awhile now when we plan to "head home" and we have had our "end of July or beginning of August" answer handy for the last few weeks. In other words, I knew about how fast the clock was ticking the whole time but there is something about having the flight that makes the thing committal and real. It is interesting because all the sudden, having that ticket, turns the routine into something kind of meaningful. It is the reverse of "feeling too much like a local". What became mundane from living here has taken on a new intensity with the thought that it is among the last times that I will do it. Running in Holyrood, volunteering with the Girlguides (last night was my last activity), meeting with my "IT Buddies" or doing read alouds, going to church, walking around town, spending time with ward members and the YW, doing my early morning swim, even my housekeeping shifts. It's a familiar feeling actually - being that Matt and I have moved 3 times in our 4 married years. Still, it hits just as hard every time and the smallest of things seem to get me emotional in the last couple of days (ie I cried pretty hard after my run today in Holyrood - it was that good of a run in spite of achy legs from a long housekeeping shift).

It is probably no surprise that the most intense thing to leave are the people I have met and the experiences I have shared with them. It never ceases to amaze me where I pick up a good friend - sometimes in the most unexpected of places (and the most unexpected of people).

Here's to the Girlguides! To those crazy-rambunctious Rainbows that modeled proper "etiquette" to me on our tea party activity and taught me how to take a cuppa in grace and style. Of course, there were lots of other good times besides that (ie teaching them how to line dance to "Boot Scootin' Boogie" and making homemade kites).

Here's to my mate Taff Powell - the chattiest, warmest Welshman friend I think I could have asked for. There is something so comforting about knowing every morning when I start a swim around 8am, there will be my friend Taff crawling in the lane next to me. 72 years old and still kicking every morning for 2K Mon-Sun. Loved his company, the Welsh and Gaelic he taught me ("Bori Dah Catie" - "Good Morning Catie") and how he always saved a story for me about his days at sea in the navy or had a Mormon/American question for me before I left the pool.

 (you know he is a good friend when he still takes a moment to talk to me with my post-swim puffy chlorine face and raccoon goggle eyes!)

Here's to the housekeeping team (the Polish dream cleaning team pictured here: Iwona, Justyna and Aneta) along with dear Alan, the soft spoken maintenance man who has just as much of a sweet tooth as me when he gets out his cuppa at the end of his lunch break. I know the lighting doesn't make this place look like much to have lunch but I have to say that it has had some memorable moments which include learning the difference between "tea" (a cuppa at the end of a meal) and "tea" (dinner) or hearing the phrase "scraggy wee bisum" from my boss who apparently breaks into old Scots when she gets angry thinking about a past employee.

Here is to Brother Burns! I met him on the temple trip back in October when he came and stood next to my seat on the bus ride back to help pass the time (and stretch out his aching legs). I knew from the moment he teased me like I imagined my grandfather would have that it was the beginning of something great. One of my favourite lines from him was when Matt gave me a wee kiss on the cheek after sacrament and he leaned over from the pew behind and put his hand on Matt's shoulder and said "Oh, now Matt...don't make me too jealous". Matt and I both agree that he ought to have a calling in the ward as "the ambassador of goodwill" as he is known to make rounds to just about every person in the ward to make them feel loved and appreciated.

And here is to my YW! What a great group of lasses to have shared my Sundays, Tuesday evenings and an eventful but memorable weekend at camp with this last year. Just look at all that personality!

Of course, that isn't an exhaustive list but I thought I would just get out a handful of them while I was thinking of it. I know there is more to miss about this place than I am even thinking of now and will only realize once I get back stateside. This is probably good since I can only handle so much goodbye at once. Feeling sad about leaving something just shows how much great I have been handed in this past year.

Happy Scottish Summer Solstice

Being this far north has its perks at this time of year (though Nov-Feb was rough when it got dark at 3:30 in the evening).

Matt and I like to celebrate the long days with late evening walks, like our 9:30-10:15pm walk last night for FHE. At the beginning of our stroll down Princes Street, we had a brief moment where we got annoyed that the shops "close so early here". Then we remembered that it was about 10pm at night, even if it felt like 5pm. It isn't just the evenings either. Probably what is most surreal is how early it gets light. When light started to pour through our bedroom window beginning at 4:30am, I would get up with a start sometimes thinking I had slept through my alarm. Afterall, I got very accustomed to waking up and walking to work in the 8am dark. It's pay back time though now. The only complaint is that this day had to be so rainy and dim - but I suppose that is part of the deal when you are talking about a Scottish summer...

The Whistle Stop on Dalry Road

A new cafe just went in where the French baguette sandwich place went out of business on Dalry Road. I run past it on my way to the Dalry Swimming Pool several times a week. It caught my eye initially because the window has a list of "American Foods" available on the menu. What luck! I thought. Finally a place where I can get some real BBQ, maybe TexMex, a great hamburger or a slice of apple pie. What American delicacies would they offer? Imagine my disappointment upon reading:

-Sloppy Joes (one of our lowest culinary moments)
-Hot Dogs (do Americans eat these more than the British?)
-"American Cookies"

American cookies? There was hope yet! I peered into the window to get a closer look of what that might be. Maybe some Mrs Field-esque melty chocolate chip monster cookie cakes? Better yet, would they get creative like this Ruby Snap place I hear of in Salt Lake or those long lost Texas wonders from Tiff's Treats? Oh what dismay filled my heart when I looked in and saw a crinkly bag with a stars and stripe flag (worthy of an Eagle Court of Honor clip-art invitation). Across the bag read "American Cookies".

Not even Oreos? Nor E.L. Fudge? Not even some waxy Mother's Cookies?!

I shouldn't complain. There truly is too many good sweets for me to take in here (thank goodness I have to walk to get everywhere!). Just last night I finally got my chance at the famous "Banoffee Pie".

That's right. Bananas and Toffee! With a substantially thick digestive biscuit crumb crust (a la Millionaire Shortcake). Brilliant really - a revelation to be sure. No, indeed there is no need to mourn the Whistle Stop on Dalry Road. But still, sloppy joes...really?