Blogs for an Alternate Universe

I've been thinking about writing a blog post about our three-and-a-half-year-old. She is totally into dandelions. She cannot pass a groups of them - or indeed, a single dandelion, without wanting to pick it and take it home, usually for me or my husband.

Dandelions on our street

 It's really cute, even if it does mean I end up with dandelion bits in all of my pockets. There are worse things (like pieces of crunchy granola bar in your pocket. Seriously. Note to granola bar manufacturers; re-sealable packages). But I digress. I wanted to write this post because I remember when our almost-seven-year old was into dandelions, too.  It's a particular cute kid phase, where for a while they're into picking you flowers, and then, they stop. They move on. Suddenly your counters are no longer filled with flowers with impossibly tiny stems, picked by your preschooler.

As I thought about writing this post, I wavered back and forth. Should I write it? I don't tend to blog about the kids (although they are definitely part of the blog.)  I write about travel, about language, about Scotland and living overseas. At one time I was a mommy blogger; if you look far enough back on this blog (and I mean far back, like pre-2010) I wrote about becoming a parent and my now-almost-seven-year-old's achievements when she was a baby. It was what I did when I wasn't writing my dissertation.  But I'm not a mommy blogger anymore.

Which led me to think: in an alternate universe where I wrote blog posts and actually got paid for it in some form, what would I write about? Here are my ideas.  Feel free to state your favorite in the comments here, or on Facebook or Twitter, if that's how you access my blog. If there's support for one idea over the others, I'll start up a Wordpress blog and, as they say here in the UK, I'll give it a go.

Blog Possibility #1: #Myhusbandsrants
This would be a co-created blog because as the name implies, it would be made up of my writing down, and commenting on, my husband's rants.  He rants on a variety of topics, and they are almost always humorous. The content for this blog would be similar to my post The Beard.

Blog Possibility #2: Spiritual Evolution
This would be a blog about links between religion and life written by me as a liberal, non-evangelical, open-minded Christian. The title is inspired by the first question I often get when I tell people that as an undergrad, I majored in biological anthropology (centrally about human evolution and human adaptation) and minored in religion. That question is, "How do you reconcile evolution and religion?"  I have written a few blog posts that talk about Christianity or church but as far as I can tell from my blog statistics, they are not very well-read.

Blog Possibility #3: Productive Me
Hopefully if I actually write this blog I wil come up with a better title for it. It would be about how sleep, daily rhythms and vacation can help you work harder and smarter. This would draw on some of my academic work on sleep and also coverage of these topics in the press.

Blog Possibility #4: #FuturecastingFriday
This would be closest to what I now do on Twitter.  I think I would have to publish each Friday, given the name. But basically I would be interested in writing and sharing information about three areas - the technological future (which I tweet about currently for work as @digitallifespan), the health future (which I tweet about currently for fun as @kayorzech) and also possibly tools for helping groups (especially policymakers and businesses) consider the future (futures toolkits), which I've been researching recently for work and find interesting.

Thanks for reading and I'm interested to hear what you think of these ideas!

Speaking the language

I've given in...

1) You stop using z's (realise, organise) and start adding u's (colour, favour)

2) You start thinking (about your visiting American guests),  "I wonder if they'd fancy a boat trip on the Firth of Forth?"when previously you had thought it sounded hilarious when new Scottish friends asked if you "fancied" something.

3) You can understand that when someone says "I ken twa wee bairns," they mean they know two small children. 

4) You call it America instead of the United States because that's what everyone (including your 3 year old) calls it here [as in "Mummy, when we go back to America, can Audrey and I get bunk beds?"]

5) You visit London, and you miss the way Dundonians greet you in the shops with a cheerful "Hiya."

6) You realise you can now almost sing a verse or two of Muggie Sha' (see the women's singing group I am part of singing it here).

7) You get your kids to sing "Wind the Bobbin Up" when you're brushing their hair.(although all the Youtube versions of this seem to be sung by Americans, I had never heard it until Library Rhyme Time here)

8) You start putting two syllables in girls (gah-uhrls) and world (wah-ruhld).

9) You pronounce Menzieshill "Mean-es-hill," Kirkcaldy "Kir-coddy," and Glamis "Glams."

10) You respond to good ideas with, "Brilliant!"

11) You start thinking "You Canna Shove Your Granny Off The Bus" is sort of catchy (although not very good for your dad's mom, because you find out later in the song that you Can shove her off the bus!) 

12) You say "cheers" back when people say it to you.

So, cheers to you all, seek out the bonny (beautiful) , and avoid the mingen (gross).  Oh,  and when you're singing that song about Loch Lomond, make sure you "tak" the high road or the low road, don't "take" it.

A Bonny Day in Edinburgh

It has already been established that we are American.  This distinguishes us in many ways from Scots, not least of which is the way we handle vacation (or holiday, as they say here).  One of the ways in which Americans are unique (some may say "crazy") is that they tend to cram a lot of vacation activities into a small stretch of time.  You can see this tendency in our previously documented trip to Oban/Mull/Iona/Staffa.

But oops, we did it again. Fortunately our visiting friends are also American so they don't find our "cram everything into a day" behavior odd. We didn't really do everything in Edinburgh, but we did visit two high points (literally) in the Scottish capital in one day, and came home exhausted.  But it was a lovely day.

First we went to Arthur's Seat.  For those of you not familiar with Edinburgh, this is the top of an extinct volcano.  Sources online had tipped me off to the fact that you can drive about halfway up this mountain and then take a 15-to-30-minute (depending upon the source) walk up to the summit. Uphill, sure. But not that far. Allegedly.

Later, in the taxi. The taxi driver regales us with a story of two Canadians who flew to Edinburgh, got a train to Waverly Station, got in his cab and asked to be taken to Arthur's Seat. They had an urn with them and it turned out the ashes belonged to one of their fathers, an Edinburgh native, who wanted to be scattered at the top of Arthur's Seat.  Because the adult child and his/her partner were quite overweight, they took one look at the hill and decided they were not going to make it, so they asked the taxi driver to make the climb.  He obliged, saying it wasn't really the kind of thing you could say "no" to.  But he quoted 45 minutes up the hill and 30 minutes back down as the time for the trip.  And I'm thinking, 45 minutes? For one man and an urn? Without two seven-year-olds and a three-year old who is probably going to need to be carried? We may be in trouble here.

But it turned out OK. Six out of seven made it all the way to the top of Arthur's Seat. And #7 was an adult, so it was okay. 

Kathleen climbing up from Dunsapie Loch where the taxi let us off.

Patrick waiting for me maybe 1/3 of the way up the mountain (Arthur's Seat peak behind him)

Paul, Claire and Patrick, nearly there (Claire rode on Paul's back most of the way)

Success! Paul and the kids at the peak.

More success: John and Patrick

And me! I'm there too! John bemused by girls channeling their inner divas.

But we weren't done yet. As the old saying goes, what goes up must come down.  And so we did, down the other side of the mountain to St. Margaret's Loch, where we had a picnic, and were filmed for a training video.  Not sure what they were training on - the proper art of picnicing? Staying a safe distance from swans? It remains a great mystery.

St. Margaret's Loch, with tone of the 2-person film crew.

Post-hike picnic.

Then, on to the iconic Edinburgh attraction - the Castle. Located, of course, on a big hill at the other end of the Royal Mile. So we called a taxi.  After a brief snafu (Paul: We're at St. Margaret's Loch, at the car park. Dispatcher: We can't send a taxi to you unless you're at an address. Paul:(phoning back after walking 100 feet) Okay we're at #1 Royal Mews. Now send a taxi!))

Orzechs by the Castle Gate

MacCubbins by the Castle Gate

 Once inside, we spit up, though everyone did see the Scottish Crown Jewels (except Paul, who had already seen them twice and has a better memory than some of us who went again because we had forgotten some of the experience...)

After the jewels, there was time for photo ops near the Scottish War Memorial, near the forewall battery (a collection of cannon), and of course our historic meeting with Queen Margaret (later St. Margaret) in the Great Hall, fit in around the all-important afternoon tea.

Claire posing outside the War Memorial.

Kay and Audrey selfie near the forewall battery.

Girls with Queen Margaret in the Great Hall, Edinburgh Castle. 

Finally it was time to head back on the train, in time for a beautiful sunset over the River Tay.

Patrick entertaining the kids with Uno in the train station.

Tay sunset from train window.

The Beard

Some of you may know by now that my husband Paul has a beard. At least for the moment.  He has spent 3 solid months growing it, and grooming it. But now, he finds that everyone has a beard. And this makes him want to shave it off.  But then what? He's thought of a moustache. But then decided that really, Tom Selleck is the only male who can pull this off.

Thank you to the Flickr user who posted this photo, and by the way Paul chose this image of Tom, not me.

After rejecting the moustache, Paul thought of a moustache, sideburns and a little soul patch on his chin.  That keening sound that you hear is me, wailing "Noooooo!"

Then he told me the following story to illustrate why he wanted to get rid of his beard:

When I was over at N's birthday (Audrey's friend who had a birthday party last weekend), whenever I dipped my head down, my beard bristled up - when I stood up tall, it was fine, but as soon as I slouched down,  up it came, foosh (miming a Elizabethan collar around his neck). So I had to trim it!  

So here's the problem.  He wants to get rid of the beard, because everyone now seems to have one. But he has invested 3 months of his life into it and feels like he can't shave because of that.

So he wonders, is that why everyone seems to be walking around with a beard? Because they too want to shave, but feel they've put too much work into it?  It's not really a hipster thing...it's just the pain at throwing away three months of beard-growing work.

Who knew facial hair was so complex psychologically?

The 10 Best Knock Knock Jokes

Yesterday, I made an effort to celebrate St. Patrick's Day in a more American way.  Having witnessed the subdued reception to it on the part of the average Brit, I sought to celebrate my Irish heritage. But, given the demands of having two small(ish) children, I could hardly pop up to the local pub for a pint of Guinness. So I did the next-best thing.  I looked up St. Patrick's Day jokes for kids, which led to jokes more generally.

Our kids are currently into knock-knock jokes, but let me tell you (if you don't already know) - most of the knock knock jokes out there are terrible.  Not like "they're so bad they're funny." Just bad. So I tried to gather the best of the worst, and also divide it by age.

For your 3-year-old
(Simple)
Knock Knock
Who's there?
Ali
Ali who?
Aligator!

(Doesn't make sense, but it doesn't matter, they think it's hilarious anyway)
Knock Knock
Who's there?
Banana
Banana who?
Banana on your head!

For your 6-year-old
(Seasonal)
Knock Knock
Who's there?
Esther
Esther Who?
Esther Bunny!

(If they happen to be British or a Dr. Who fan: currently making the rounds at my daughter's school)
Knock Knock
Who's there?
Doctor
Doctor Who?
You just said it!

(You might have to explain what a fig is)
Knock Knock
Who's there?
Figs.
Figs who?
Figs the doorbell, it's broken!

For your older-than-6-year-old
(Slightly more complicated vocabulary and concepts)
Knock Knock!
Who's there?
Doris!
Doris who?
Doris locked, that's why I knocked.

Knock, knock
Who’s there?
Cash
Cash who?
No thanks, but I’d like some peanuts

(It's all about…timing)
Knock Knock
Who's there?
Interrupting pirate!
Interrup…
ARRRR!


Adults Now
(For you Sound of Music fans)
Knock Knock
Who's there?
Little old lady
Little old lady who?
I didn't know you could yodel

(And finally, a few British jokes)
What did the fish say when it swam into a wall?
Dam.

What's round and bad tempered?
A vicious circle.

What do you call a line of men waiting for a haircut?
A barber queue


Thanks to the following sites from which I culled jokes:
http://www.enchantedlearning.com/jokes/topics/knockknock.shtml
http://amomwithalessonplan.com/knock-knock-jokes-for-kids/
http://lajollamom.com/kid-friendly-knock-knock-jokes/
http://www.mirror.co.uk/news/weird-news/19-silly-christmas-cracker-jokes-4854120

What will I miss about Scotland? The Place.

I was traveling for work this past week, so Tuesday included a 5:30 am start and a trip down to London, and then Guildford, to meet up with colleagues at one of our @digitallifespan partner Universities. At dinner last night, one of my colleagues asked me what I would miss about Scotland when I left (as I plan to do) in seven months. Despite having written several blogs about what I like about Scotland, the first answer that came to mind was not unique to Scotland - it's something we had in Providence, RI, too.  It is community - both Dundee and Providence are small enough cities, and have vibrant neighborhoods, so we feel like we belong there.  You run into people you know - at a coffee shop, in the post office, on the street.  And you can walk a lot of places. Especially in Dundee, but also in Providence, there are commercial streets near residential areas - urban planning done right. Both cities are big enough that are things to do - cultural events, restaurants (well, okay, Dundee gets half-points on restaurants), sporting events - but they have a small-town feel.  150,000 people is my kind of small town.  So when we return to Tucson, the metropolis of 500,000+ (1 million in the greater Pima County area) where you can't even walk to the corner store (what corner store?) I will miss that community.

Courtesy of Wikipedia, sheep in a location that could be Scotland.

The second thing I told my colleague I would miss is something I was reminded of as my boss and I drove from Dundee to Edinburgh Airport (at a you-can-see-unGodly-from-here hour) on Tuesday morning. As we passed out of the city, almost immediately we were in the countryside.  And not the countryside of the US, which still has large towns everywhere, interspersed with uninhabited mountains or forests.  Or in the Midwest, miles and miles of corn or another monocrop.  I'm talking about driving 10 minutes outside the city, and it's rolling hills, sheep, cows, farmhouses...and that continues until you're 10 minutes from the next city.  Bucolic.  It would be like [I imagine] stepping back in time in the US, when there was more rural life and agricultural focus - in Scotland, these are still main foci, celebrated at the Royal Highland Show in June (which, confusingly, is not held in the Highlands). 

Of course we will miss friends that we've made here in Scotland - that's a given. But we will miss the place as well!      

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.