Hassells in the Highlands

We have been here in Thurso now for nearly 9 weeks. I still cannot believe that we are actually doing this!  One of my early posts kind of ranted about having so many new  things  to learn here - about having to think about Every. Little. Thing. Things I have taken for granted for 30+ years.  So I thought I would like to post an update.  It’s good.  I have adjusted to and/or have learned the basic things and no longer feel overwhelmed having to think about   Every. Little. Thing. I do small loads of laundry about twice a week. It still takes all day.    this container holds the water that comes out of the clothes! I learned that I have to dump about a gallon's worth of water out of the dryer after a couple of loads. (still too weird!)  I learned that the numbers on the washing machine are in Celcius, which matters. Apparently. So, when I thought I was washing clothes in a cool degrees, turned out it was actually hot water. Thankfully nothing was shrunk. But

We were looking for something to do a couple of Sundays ago, so we decided to go to Shell Beach to look for Groatie Buckies. Whaaat?? What is a Groatie Buckie, you ask? The first time we heard that we thought for sure it was some of that Scottish talk – where if you just had subtitles, you would realize you understood every word, but without them it was like playing Mad Gab. A Groatie Buckie is a tiny seashell. It is about the size of your pinky fingernail and is light pink and white and shiny. They are hard to find. Mostly because they are so small. And because they are not found just anywhere. But of course, Mike found one without trying. On the same day that we went to Puffin Rock, our friends Dave and Leah took us over to a small beach that looks out at the Dounrey site. You might remember this beach from an early post that included a picture of the sign that says anything on that beach might be contaminated and there were two young people collecting whelks to sell to

You know how smells can transport you to another place and another time?  How a smell can put you in an exact moment in your personal history?  Isn’t that an amazing thing? My grandma’s house was like that. It had a smell. A really wonderful smell. I would say it was a combination of homemade bread and cinnamon rolls and ham loaf and carmel icing and Davenports and humidity and horse and buggy and rain on the tin roof. These are smells (ok, and sounds) of my grandma’s house. When I walked in, it smelled like her.  It was a definite smell that defined her house. Even after Pappy and Grandma were long gone, the smell remained. It is their smell. And unfortunately, is gone forever, since the house had to be torn down a few years ago due to extensive termite damage. But the memory remains inside me. I cannot recreate it, but I recognize it when I smell it. It has come to me once or twice when I was far away from their house, and immediately I was 'in' their kitchen. How wonder

Signs are a constant source of entertainment here - and not just road signs. (I think there will be a post another time about the 'other' funny signs) And since Mike posted that quite-amusing driving post recently, I thought this might be a good time to post the ones I've accumulated. As the passenger, I feel it is my job to collect them - and it can be quite fun doing so. We have traveled some of the same roads over and over, so when I see a sign that I want a picture of, I have to remember it for the next time we go by. And then, I have to have my camera on and poised - ready to capture the shot. And here is the challenge - the car is often traveling along at 50-60 mph.  I have to wait for just the right time - too soon and the picture is too small - too late and the sign is either blurry or I miss it completely - or - and this happens quite a bit - it's raining and I am trying to time it right for proximity but also trying to time it in between the wiper blade