One wedding short?

 As many of you know, I spent almost the whole two years we were in Scotland singing with a women's singing group officially called "Women's Singing Group" but affectionately known to almost everyone as "Loadsaweeminsingin."  Over the course of my two years with them, I became a part of the singing family, and that meant I was brought along to sing at occasions that I wouldn't have been part of as a regular American expat. 

Magdalen Green from the gazebo

In the two years, I sang at three weddings and a funeral with Loadsaweemin - hence the title of this post, homage to the 1994 film that launched Hugh Grant (at least in the United States), and indeed, according to mentalfloss.com, launching the British rom-com as an American genre. 

The first wedding was for someone I did not know, but she was a community organizer in Dundee and wanted a real "community group" to sing at the wedding, so there we were.  In typical small-town Dundee fashion, although I knew neither the bride nor the groom, it turned out that I had recently met the best man at a University event, and I knew one of the (approximately 30) wedding guests from church.

The second wedding was for the son of one of the long-time group members, and it was held at the gazebo pictured above, just down the block from where we lived in Dundee. Of course we were not lucky enough to have such a clear day for the wedding - it was threatening rain, and it finally did start raining as the guests arrived.  Everyone took it in stride, though; we singers pulled out our rainbow umbrellas, and the ushers carried umbrellas in one hand and champagne in the other as they directed people to their sitting and standing spots.  After we sang our song, the groom turned to Loadsaweemin and said "I love you" - we told him we loved him too.

The third wedding was for one of the group members, held in the lovely government chambers of the city of St. Andrews.  She was marrying a man named Bill, and so in addition to our traditional wedding repertoire (The Rose), we also sang Da Do Ron Ron, which, as you may recall, has a lyric that says, "Yeah, my heart stood still. Yeah, his name was Bill..."

Finally, the funeral was for another member of the group who had been declining for a while - she went into a hospice-type facility, where we visited one Monday evening for our usual rehearsal and sang with her in the chapel.  A little while later, she passed away, and there we were.  It was January and the nondenominational chapel was quite busy - folks for the next funeral had to wait in a holding area; then when your number was called (not quite, but pretty close) you walked across the garden to the chapel for your funeral.  We waited, we walked, we listened, and we sang: an arrangement of James Taylor's "Close Your Eyes," and "Think of Me, Forget Me Not." Although I remember this as a sad song, it could go either way - sad for funerals, or happy for the togetherness of a wedding:    

Think of me, forget me not,

Remember me wherever you go.

I am yours and you are mine,

Remember me wherever you go.  

Think of me, forget me not,

Remember me wherever you go. 

 When I think of these events, where I was included as one of the "ladies from Dundee" it makes me nostalgic for this group and how much they were a part of my world in Scotland.  I guess weddings tend to do that, and funerals too, perhaps; although I've been lucky that my attendance at funerals has been more limited than my presence at weddings. 

Facebook, with all its birthday and anniversary reminders, makes me nostalgic too - though I rarely remember the exact dates of anniversaries outside my immediate family (and even then I usually have to consult a cheat-sheet for all but my own) the reminders on Facebook bring back memories of the wedding - like on this date in 2003, when I was part of the wedding of Katie and Beej - Katie's daughter Laura, now a lovely college student, was seven years old at that event - the same age Audrey is now.  I remember all the red bridesmaids dresses, Katie eating grapes in her wedding dress, and the flames on Beej's jacket...surely not his tux, that must have been the rehearsal dinner. Time flies.

One wedding short? Nah, I've had plenty. I've not sung at them all, but at each one I've played some role, and who knows, maybe in 10 or 15 years, someone will look back at a picture or reminisce about who was there and the small details they remember - a song, a red dress, a rainy afternoon, an adorable seven year old who's now all grown up, or a groom named Bill.

The Long Goodbye to Scotland

The problem with having a set date for leaving a place is that "When are you leaving?" becomes a topic of conversation far earlier than you might like it to.  While we knew my contract ended on October 2015, as early as this past April, people we knew in Dundee started conversations by talking about our departure.  They didn't mean to be rude - it was just something to talk about.  And most of it sounded a bit like this:

"So, what are you going to do when your contract ends?"
"Probably go back to the States."
"Don't you want to stay?"
"It's complicated and expensive to stay."
"Oh. But don't you want to stay?"
(Orzechs change subject)

About June, we decided we were definitely going back, but we didn't know exactly to where. So the conversations started to sound like:

"So what are you going to do when you go back?"
""We're going, but we don't know what we're going to do yet. We'll find jobs."
"Why don't you stay?"
(Orzechs change subject)

Finally, after all our lovely summer visitors left in mid-August, we packed all our things and sent them back to Tucson.  By the end of August, Paul had rekindled his relationship with his old boss and workplace and had been offered a job at the foundry, and I had a promising interview as a nutrition program evaluator (which I ultimately got). By September, the conversations started to sound like this:

"Congratulations on your jobs!"
"Thanks."
"So what's next?"
"Well, two cars and a place to live, schools for the girls..all to be accomplished in a couple of weeks"
"Wow. We'll miss you."
"We'll miss you too"
(Orzechs change subject)

Finally, it was the end of September, and it was really time to say goodbye. We packed and repacked our suitcases, and got rid of a lot of things, which is trickier in the UK than the US - the charity shops are small, and they just can't take all your stuff at once.  So we were giving things away to everyone we knew, and slowly carrying things up the hill to the charity shop for the last couple of weeks.  On the last few days, we were hauling things up the hill to the dumpsters near the apartment complexes, because our own bins were full.

We had dinners with friends, and a beautiful afternoon with the Loves, our family-in-Scotland - they were among the first people we met when we moved, and we maintained and built our friendship across two years. I had recruited Sarah Love into Loadsaweeminsingin, and without my knowledge, on my last night of singing, she organized the ladies to sing the Proclaimers song "Letter from America" - the chorus goes "When you go, will you send me a letter from America?" I was almost in tears to have to leave all these lovely singing ladies.  Paul had a last few surfing trips to St. Andrews with his friend Mike, and had a final goodbye trip our to our local pubs - Drouthys and Speedwell - with some of his yoga friends. Audrey went to Brownies on the Thursday night, and all of the sudden, there it was - our two years in Dundee over.  Well, not until after we sat in a lot of traffic going to Glasgow with my wonderful boss Wendy, who helped us bring all our stuff into the hotel and then turned around to head back to Dundee. But then, poof.

The trip back to the States was long - we should have taken the more direct flight rather than go via Iceland - it looks very cool, but we hadn't scheduled a stop.  The three days with my parents in DC felt like vacation - if our last week and all the shared meals in Dundee felt like a cross between Thanksgiving (seeing all the people you love) and a funeral (mourning the loss of people you may never see again), the time in Virginia just felt like Thankgiving. With family. With more family, and with the people we adopted as our family a long time ago (25 years, I guess we are family by now, Townsleys). And then we really moved to the United States - we got in the plane and flew to Tucson, and began adjusting back to life in another country where the driving distances are vast, the refrigerators and washers are huge, and even when it's (occasionally) cloudy and gray, the breezes are still warm.

Stay Tuned.  

Thanks, Deer.

In the fine tradition of Seinfeld, my goal today is to write a short blog about nothing.  Well, okay, it's about something, three somethings in fact; funny accents, deer, and gorgeous sunsets.

Funny accents first. I was thinking about this story Paul told me  (some time ago) as I walked up to playgroup with Claire this morning. When we talk to people from the States, they often ask us to demonstrate the Scottish accent (which we're generally poor at doing, except for Audrey, but she clams up because he friends at school are forever asking her to "say something in American.") But we don't generally think how our American accent sounds to Scottish people. Paul told me he went to a playgroups with Claire one Wednesday.  The group took place in a small village near Dundee called Invergowrie. A three-year-old was talking about Halloween decorations, and he struck up a conversation with her on that theme.  In the middle of the conversation, the girl broke off speaking, looked directly at him and said, "Why you talk so funny? Stop talking so funny!" She was seriously offended that he wasn't speaking like everyone else, and her grandma had to explain to her that he was from somewhere else, and he was talking normally, even though he sounded funny to her.

Reindeer!

 Now on to deer.  During the last weekend on January I convinced the family to go to the Scottish Deer Centre.  I'd been wanting to go see what it was about: the Tripadvisor reviews were generally good, and it's only a 30-minute drive from Dundee.  The day seemed promising; although it was January it was clear and sunny, always a good start for Scotland. Although the Deer Centre didn't disappoint (we even got to see reindeer, another thing I've been wanting to check off my Scotland list!) it was cold. When the wind blew, it was REALLY cold.  Especially when we went to the Birds of Prey show (which was still held outside, despite the fact that you could only hear the presenter if she was facing you - the wind was literally blowing her words away). Interestingly, they had an indoor venue for the Birds of Prey show, but the cold, very windy weather was not considered inclement enough to move the show inside. This tells you something about Scottish weather. It was awesome to see a falcon swooping around, spotting and grabbing the prey (helpfully tied to the end of a rope wielded by the presenter).  And we got to feed a hand-reared deer and see some amazing elk up close. We agreed we'd definitely go back when the temperature was above 0 - or at least the wind was less gale-like.

Elk!

Finally, sunsets - Dundee has had milder weather this past week and lots of sun, but of course clouds still hover around, which makes for some amazing sunsets.  I've taken to carrying my camera around in my jacket pocket just because every day when I come home, the sunsets are so amazing (and have I mentioned my excitement that the sun is setting when I get home at 5:20, instead of while I'm sitting in the office at 3:20?) Becuase the sun stays up so late in the summer, it has a long way to go between the dark days of December and the bright light of June, so every day in February it seems like it's lighter a little longer!

Sunset over Magdalen Green toward the River Tay

 Watch this space this week for a guest blog by Paul Orzech, who reveals to me that his subject of choice will be: the layout of British supermarkets.        

Christmas Light Night 2014 or Church and State, No Separation

Friday the 14th of November, 2014  marked the annual Christmas Light Night in Dundee. 

Waiting for the lights to be switched on

This is the night on which the Christmas tree in the city centre is switched on, and the Christmas season officially begins (at least from the point of view of stores and shoppers, if not the church).

If you are reading this in the US, you may be saying, hold on a minute here - the city government puts up a Christmas tree in the centre of town? And throws a party, complete with a torchlight parade, music, dancing, an appearance by Santa, fireworks (set to "Let it Go" much to the delight of the girls) but ALSO the aforementioned Christmas tree, lighted decorations with Christmas themes, and a Nativity play? What happened to separation of Church and State?

Reform Street greetings

The answer, as far as I can tell in Scotland, is "it doesn't really exist."  The common perception is"Well, everyone is Christian anyway, so it doesn't matter."  According to the 2011 census in Scotland, 54% of people say they are Christian, while 37% claim "no religion."  Muslims are 1.4% of the population, and all others (Hindu, Jewish, Sikh, or Another Religion) are .9% of the population.  Audrey goes to a Catholic school which is part of the state-supported school system - she went because there were places there, not so much because we wanted her to be in Catholic school, but it is tuition-free - again, a big no-no in the States, and a big so-what in Scotland.

So, Christmas Light Night 2014. 

The Christmas Tree, lit up

The City Centre gets a teacup ride for the occasion

...and really large Disney balloons...

Preparing to go out, with our Santa hats

Bonus: One-minute video of the Light Night event during which the band plays a cover of A-Ha's "Take On Me" on the bagpipes. Seriously Awesome.

Dundee Flower and Food Festival 2014

This morning I started my day tromping through the grass and mud, trees and gravel parking lots of Camperdown Park in Dundee.  The group I sing with, Loadsaweeminsingin (previous blog about the group here) has a regular gig at the festival.  After the aforementioned tromping, I (and Paul, and the girls) finally found the parking lot we were meeting in, and moved on to warming up (both vocally and physically - although it wasn't raining this morning, Scotland in early September is not exactly warm).  When we got to the stage, my fan club were the only ones in the audience.  The audience did grow once we started singing, but this experience reinforced what I suspected - 10:30 on a Sunday morning is pretty early for Scots.

I'm about third from right - Paul's camera image

 After we finished singing at 11, we explored the flower and food festival.  Well, okay, first we let the kids ride the rides. 

On the ubiquitous merry go round ride - driving the bulldozer this time.

Finally getting big enough for the harnessed-trampoline-jumping ride!

Then we watched Indian dancing.  Then we ate lunch. THEN we explored the festival.  It reminded Paul and I of a cross between the St. Andrews Highland Games (blog here) and the Royal Highland Show (blog here).  It was a bit like the Highland Games in scale - a small fun fair, a good bit of Highland Dancing (and the accompanying bagpiping).  It was a bit like the Highland Show in its several tents packed with stalls and displays.  In this case, the stalls were selling fancy food, including jam, cheese, beef and lamb, hard cider, Scotch whisky, and various kinds of sweets (most with samples!) and the displays were of flowers, plants and vegetables.  It was definitely much smaller than the Highland Show, and there were also no animals, which of course are the main point of the Highland Show.  The Flower and Food festival didn't have a single sheep or cow (at least a live one, though they were well-represented in alternate forms in the Food section).

The vegetables were quite welcoming

Did I mention Claire likes carrots, and wanted to pose with them?

You know you wondered where the took place...Ireland would have been my guess. 

Given the popularity of jam in the food tent, I should have taken a picture of (not kidding) the booth for the World Jampionships, which are sponsored by a Scottish jam producer (MacKays, pronounced McKies) and won by a man from Dundee in 2014. 

We finally did find flowers as well!

Prizewinning dahlias

Other prizewinning flowers

Even Audrey got into the flower (or rather, tree) spirit, and fell in love with a Bonsai tree.  She wanted a big tree, but compromised on a little one - this is her with "Rosie" - she's chatted to her all afternoon, trying to get her to break out in the promised white flowers.  And no, Audrey isn't looking a little green - she chose the "witch" face-painting at the festival, while Claire went for a glitter tattoo of a princess crown. 

Audrey and Rosie the Bonsai.

The Scottish Language Barrier

We have been in Dundee nine months, give or take.  Audrey has been in school for eight of these months. Although the language wars ("You have to say trousers, Mommy! Pants mean underpants!") started the minute we arrived, it is now clear that our family has lost one member to the other side.  By this I mean Audrey's Scottish accent has taken over.

Paul marveled at how fast it has happened. "I knew it might happen, but I didn't expect it to be this fast. Especially since her teacher is Irish!" A visiting Scottish friend commented on in when she visited on Sunday - "She's rolling her R's!" and when I said she's been dropping her T's (Mummy, can I have some wa'er?) the same friend nodded knowingly and said, "Yes, that's very Dundonian." 

So now it's three against one, and I'm not holding out much hope for Claire. After burping today, she said "Pardon me!" and in the science center she asked Paul if they could "take the lift." Even I am starting to slip into British English.  I have started to say "straightaway" to mean "right now/right away," and sometimes I'll even say "half-three" if I want to set a meeting with my boss for 3:30.   Paul has taken to the standard Dundonian greeting (Hiya!) , but both of us change slower than the kids.

Audrey already asks for "a wee bit of this" and "a wee bit of that" - before long, the wee bit of American vocabulary that she retained from the States ("America") will be buried under an avalanche of British and Scottish vocabulary and pronunciation. I close with a question (and some help from Scotranslate:)   Whit's this world comin' tae? 

Beautiful Glasgow, Scotland: a photo blog

Yesterday I traveled to Glagow from Dundee to meet up with a friend from Rhode Island who was enroute to the Isles of Lewis and Harris (known for Harris Tweed) in the Outer Hebrides. Although the weather forecast almost always calls for rain in Glasgow, it turned out to be a beautiful, sunny, warm day!

A little cloudy in Dundee as I set out in the early morning:

Magdalen Green bandstand with construction crane behind; very symbolic of Dundee - the Green, and construction work.

The Tay Railway Bridge.

Part of a pretty awful poem about the Tay Railway Bridge: so awful, in fact, that it's celebrated.

Looking toward the Tay road bridge with very calm waters.

Leaving Dundee (also in Gaelic).

George Square, just outside the Glasgow Queen Street Station:

War Memorial in front of the Glasgow City Chambers.

Glasgow crest, in mosaic on the floor as you enter the City Chambers.

Beautiful mosaic on the ceiling of the City Chambers.

The Commonwealth Games "Big G" (the games, a sort of mini-Olympics, are happening in July), and visiting the Gallery of Modern Art (GOMA):

Some publicity event at the "big G"

GOMA exhibit on female under-representation in science fiction movies.

Selfie in the GOMA mirrors.

A Little more Pop Art as I was walking around Glasgow

What else would you expect to find on Glasgow high street, but the Tardis?

Or maybe a Dalek swimming in the River Clyde?

Never mind, I definitely like the elephants better.

Though the fire cat is pretty cool too. 

The River Clyde was beautiful, as was the People's Palace on Glasgow Green.

Suspension bridge over the River Clyde in downtown Glasgow.

View of train bridge over the Clyde.

Crossing the suspension bridge

People's Palace Greenhouse view.

Inside the greenhouse, view from the cafe.

First Nations art from Canada outside the People's Palace; Glasgow is twinned with a Canadian city.

This is an old carpet factory, built to look like a famous Venetian building.

The front of the People's Palace, and amazing blue sky. Nelson column to the right rear.

Late 1800's fountain, recently refurbished, largest terra-cotta fountain in the world. That is Queen Victoria at the top.

Shakespeare tiles in the Ladies Room. Seriously.

One of the gates of the Glasgow Green.

A funny sign, more Gaelic, then time to head home.

In front of the court. All I could think was, "In the U.S. they would never build a wall with this kind of drop behind it. Some kid would fall, and his parents would sue."

Departing Glasgow Queen Street Station.

Sheep from the train.

Cows from the train. 

Back in Dundee: a closeup of the Tay Railway bridge. You can see the pylons from the "old bridge" that was taken down after a train derailed in the late 1800's.