From the Highlands to the Homelands

Leaving Thurso was hard.

I will admit there have been far more tears leaving Scotland than there was leaving our Washington home. But that was probably because we knew we would only be gone for a while. We knew we would be returning to our house and to our family and to our friends. But there is no guarantee that we will return to Thurso, or even Scotland.  

We felt so content and so at-home there in Thurso. We had made friends. We had groups of people we belonged to. We felt like we were a part of the community. We loved the pace of life there - no hurry, no bother. 

After the packers had packed all our stuff and after the hired house cleaners had cleaned out the apartment, we stayed at the Forss House for our last night there - a big, old Scottish hotel with tartan carpeting. The Forss River runs past the house with a waterfall and the salmon run up twice a year. It’s a place fishermen like to stay. It's where Mike stayed for a week when he went to Dounreay for an investigation just 2 months before we moved there. And just the week before leaving, we had a lovely dinner there with our friends Janet, Liz and Alan. It was a good place to end our stay and begin our trip home.

We teared up as we drove out of town and looked one last time at the lovely town of Thurso sitting in a little dip in the land that nestles up to the Thurso Bay. There was the sparkling beauty of the water and the beach and Dunnet Head in the distance. As we drove through town that last time, I said, “Goodbye town square. 

Goodbye river. Goodbye stone buildings and stone fences.” And yes, there were tears.  As we drove through the familiar towns of Brora and Golspie and Dornoch, I was sad that we did not have time to stop one last time. But the further south we went, the more we started to look ahead.

I may have mentioned once or twice that getting to and from the northern most part of Scotland is not an easy or fast task. There is one main road between Inverness and Thurso – the A9. It is a 2-lane road and if there is bad weather or a car accident, the road can be closed for hours. So, even though our flight didn’t leave until 1:30 on Saturday, we took no chances and drove down the day before. 

The trip would involve 3 planes from Inverness to Pasco, with a 17-hour layover in Amsterdam, a 3-hour layover in Seattle, and then home to Pasco, where there would be a 20-minute drive from the airport to our house. Now that is a convenience I have missed.

You may be aghast at the idea of a 17-hour layover – and once upon a time, I would have been as well. BUT, Kathryn had this same flight last December and so did my friend, Cristy, when she came to visit in February. So we expected it, planned for it, and were actually excited about the layover, because we happened to know that it would be enough time to leave the airport, take the 15-minute train to downtown Amsterdam and spend the evening there. What a great way to leave Europe! And that is exactly what we did. And the city did not disappoint. It was decorated and lit up for the Christmas holiday.

Now, when I did this with Kathryn last December, we stayed in a hotel downtown, across from the Centraal train station. But when Cristy left, she stayed in the Yotel Hotel right IN the airport!  So that is what Mike and I did this time as well. No hurry and no stress the next morning. 

Now, there is a funny story about the Yotel.  

The screen on the wall is actually a video of the cabins.
It shows how to set up the bed, the table, chair, etc.

When we went to New York City 2 years ago with Glenda and Steve, we stayed at a Yotel there – only that one was in Manhattan as opposed to inside the airport. Glenda and I saw it on the internet and thought it seemed pretty ‘hip’ and 'unusual', so we tried it – and we liked it!  It was like IKEA had designed it. Minimalistic is the word I would use to describe it. It had everything we needed,  but in the most space-efficient manner.

Once we had had our Amsterdam adventure, we were looking forward to getting home.

The 10 ½ hour direct flight to Seattle was great fun – mostly because we were able to travel business class again. Wow. That surely is the way to travel long distance!  

Yes, we got all kinds of great food and service – but the best part was that we could fully recline to sleep. I didn’t think I would actually sleep because, really, it was only noon, for crying out loud. But I suppose the stresses of the previous days and week had piled up because I did sleep.

We arrived in Seattle on schedule and got through customs and security quickly, because, hey! We are citizens!

First Impression in Seattle:

Coffee. My personal favorite, yes. But we were sitting in the – get this – the VIP lounge(!) where there was coffee and beer and wine and food. But what I noticed immediately was the 6 bottles of flavored syrups next to the self-serve coffee machines. That says a lot about us here in Washington. Especially in Seattle, I think. You know it’s the home of Starbucks, right? which also means it is the home of “Coffee – Your Way.”  It reminds me of the lines in the movie, “You’ve Got Mail” where Tom Hanks’ character says:   The whole purpose of places like Starbucks is for people with no decision-making ability whatsoever to make six decisions just to buy one cup of coffee. Short, tall, light, dark, caf, decaf, low-fat, non-fat, etc. So people who don't know what the hell they're doing or who on earth they are, can, for only $2.95, get not just a cup of coffee but an absolutely defining sense of self: Tall! Decaf! Cappuccino!

Here (hopefully) is a link that should take you to a video clip of that scene, if you should like to watch it. (I would)

Starbucks Scene

First Impression in Tri-Cities:

We arrive in Pasco to a warm welcome by some of our friends. What a wonderful surprise that was! That certainly helped to facilitate the fact that we were home.

The very warm welcome offset the fact that it was very cold when we stepped off the plane. And very dry. And the air was stale. It literally had no smell. (Actually, it smelled like cold, dry dust.) That was pretty disappointing. Smells are pretty important. They bring up memories and can transport me, mentally.  In the past, when we returned from being away, upon exiting the plane, we would smell sagebrush – the smell of the desert and the smell of home.     By contrast, Scotland has a hearty, earthy smell. It smells of rich dirt, dampness, and trees. I miss that so much.

First Impression of Home:

This is not a picture from this year. This actually is
from 2 years ago when we had all the wonderful snow.
But I love this picture. 

I was completely amazed at how rich the colors inside my house looked!  The wood flooring was a rich brown. The colors in my furniture (red, blue and yellow) were just so intense. And the paint on my walls was warm and inviting. 

Sitting in my favorite chair in the corner, this is what I see.

I could never have thought that that would be my first impression of home. The second impression was “We are home.” It was exactly as we had left it. It looked and felt exactly the same. That  was good. Very good. And it made me very happy because I really like my house. I like how it is decorated. I like the colors. And it is comfortable.  (For days I walked around the house commenting on how plush and cushy the carpet felt!)

Looking in to the Family  Room from the Kitchen

Settling In:

I know you are dying to know about our driving here, but you will be disappointed to hear there is not much to tell. Quite honestly, even though I did not drive much in Scotland, it felt quite natural to drive on the left side of the road there. I did not have the mind-blowing experience that Mike had.  You would think that after driving for 40 years on the RIGHT side of the road, that it would be natural to go back to it. And to a degree, that was true. However, where we found it to be a small challenge was when we were turning off the main road into, say, our neighborhood. The impulse was to want to turn into the left side.  Thankfully there was usually an oncoming car in that lane to discourage us from actually doing that. 

The day after getting home, Mike immediately started running around town – going to the grocery store, the recycling center, to Best Buy for computer stuff and to Home Depot for a new bathroom fan, etc. I, however, stayed at home for the first 3 days, just soaking in being home and putting off the inevitable traffic and crowds as long as possible. (I DEFINITELY DID NOT MISS TRAFFIC AND CROWDS!) But when I finally went out on the 4^th day, Kathryn sat shot-gun in the car and I asked her to stay alert to my driving to make sure I stayed in the correct lanes. And I did fine….except for one 'almost' incident. I was traveling in the left lane of a 4 lane road (2 lanes each direction). I wanted to turn right into a parking lot, and as I put on my turn signal to turn, I realized I was getting ready to turn across the right hand lane to get there (as though I was driving on the left side).  Kathryn also caught on to what I was about to do and, thankfully, there were no cars coming up beside me in that lane. 

Other than that, I’m afraid, there are no interesting driving stories to tell. 

Well, except the reverse of what we experienced in Scotland, which was to look over at another passing car, inhale sharply as we saw a ‘driver’ with their head down, texting with both hands on their phone!  And then to realize it was the passenger!    I’m telling you, there is nothing like that experience, either there or here! Hilarious afterwards, but for that split-second when you see it, your mind can’t make sense of it and it goes into a state of confusion.

We have been home now for 2+ weeks. Mike went back to work – well, started a new job with the same company – after a week. He comes home every night saying, “Well, this is going to be fun.”  And by that, he means it will be challenging. And that will be good, because Mike enjoys a challenge. It keeps things interesting for him. As for me, I had to borrow a rotary cutter and ruler from Glenda before the week was out because the desire to cut up fabric into little bits and then sew them back together again hit with a vengeance. I thought I could wait the few weeks until the air shipment arrived, but it’s just been too long and I am going through withdrawals. 

Settling In – Initial Thoughts

I miss getting mail delivered through my door. And packages left in my hallway or inside my garage. For the 20 years I have lived here, we have had neighborhood mailboxes to make things easier for the mail carriers.

Leah told me when I returned that my washing machine and dryer would seem huge. Well, that really was a shock!  They are ENORMOUS! I feel like I could climb inside mine!  (PS Everything is bigger here – the cars, the roads, the grocery stores, the boxes of salad!!)

This is JUST the SALAD section of our local grocery store!!

We have a bathroom on the main floor of our house. There happens to be a light switch in the hallway – for the hallway light – just outside the bathroom. When I first got home, I had to laugh as I realized that I hit that switch as I went into the bathroom. After two weeks, I no longer turn on the switch, but I still look at it as though I should. (You may recall that there are no outlets or light switches INSIDE most bathrooms in the UK) Isn’t it funny how doing something differently for just 18 months can seemingly undo what you’ve been doing your whole life?  Maybe it’s true that it only takes 30 days to change a habit. 

For 18 months, I only had internet and phone usage when I was on wifi. So, every time I left the house, I was disconnected. Yes, there was wifi at places like the Pentland Hotel, where we met for coffee, but for the most part, my phone was silent when away from the house. But a reward of being away from wifi was going home to the apartment...because within minutes – and sometimes immediately – my phone would starting pinging. “Ping. Ping. Ping ping ping ping,(FB Messenger messages arriving), depending on how many messages were going back and forth between Katrina, Leah, Kirsteen, Carol and me. That is how we communicated in Thurso.    And then there was the “ping buzz” (vibration for text messages).      I miss that ‘welcome’ every time I got home.  I also miss being disconnected. That would not be a bad thing for the rest of the world – to be disconnected for hours at a time. It allows one to be fully present in the moment. Phones would only then be used as cameras when you were out and about. I’ve live that life and it’s wonderful.   Now, I walk around Target and my phone RINGS. I had forgotten that my phone RINGS – that people can CALL.   And vice versa. People are relearning that they CAN call me.

I miss the Scottish and English voices. I miss the cadence and rhythm of the languages. I greatly miss the words and phrases – words like ‘brilliant’ and ‘aye’ and ‘that’s me/you’ and ‘hiya’ and ‘puddings’ and ‘no bother’ (pronounced ‘no bah-er’), ‘just now,’ ‘ring me,’ mobile phone’ (pronounced ‘MO-bile’ with a long I sound), ‘proper,’ and of course, “wee”.

People in the Pacific Northwest talk plain. We don’t have a fun twang like those from “The South” or Texas. We don’t have a hard accent like those from New England. We don’t have cute sayings and we don’t cut off parts of words when we say them. We just talk plain. In Scotland, I was surrounded by a different cadence and rhythm and by the need to listen a little more intently to make sure I heard and understood. And my American voice was a contrast amidst them. My voice just sounds like everyone else’s now.

After we sold our car, we rented one. It was a standard transmission.
I wanted the opportunity to drive that before leaving, so
Mike let me drive down the A9 to Inverness.
I did not find shifting with my left hand too challenging.
Now, if the pedals were backwards, too...well, that would have
been a different story!

I miss local fresh eggs and either collecting them from a friend who raised chickens or walking to the self-serve hutch behind the Park Hotel. I had gotten used to eggs sitting on the counter top. Now, since we are back in the land of refrigerated eggs, I find they feel funny to be cold.  Speaking of eggs, I boil a lot of eggs for eating on salads and when they are done cooking, I normally cool them quickly by putting ice over them and covering them with water. In Scotland, I got used to just covering them with cold water because I had to BUY ice in Scotland, and keep it in the freezer, which was downstairs. I have missed my ice maker that lives right here in my kitchen. I can have ice any time I want. 

Taxes. In Scotland, there certainly are taxes because every government has taxes.  A VAT is applied to certain, non-food items. VAT stands for ‘Value-Added Tax’ and it is automatically added into the price of an item that requires it.  So the price tag would look like this:  “10 pounds plus 2.75 pounds VAT” and will list the total on the price sticker as “12.75.”  I like that system a lot. I don’t mind paying tax on an item, but I don’t like being surprised by the end-price when tax is added in at the end, like the US does. So last week when I went to purchase a pair of tights and I knew the sale price was $9.99, I was surprised by the woman telling me my total was “$10.85.”  I had forgotten that added tax. I think the US should just incorporate the tax into a price so that the price you see is the price you pay.  And I really liked buying chocolate biscuits for 1 pound and actually paying one pound. 

I am back in the land of fountain drinks. I don’t drink soda very often, but if I am going to, my preference is to have it over ice and out of a fountain. It just tastes better.

I hear again the familiar sounds of school busses in the mornings. That is a sound I have heard all of my life but have taken it for granted. I don’t  know about the rest of the country, but there were no school busses in Thurso. 

Sticky Toffee Pudding.
When it is done right, like the above picture,
it is the BEST dessert in Scotland!!

When we arrived in Scotland, I read the road signs for the towns and places we passed – places like Dornoch (DOOR-nok – although I know some Scots who would make great fun of me if I pronounced it that way. Those “-och” words have a light throaty sound - not a hard sound - and I did not master it.), Helmsdale, Berriedale Braes, Pentland Firth, Lairg, Durness (Dur-NESS), Dingwall, Halkirk (HAL-kirk), Castletown, Dunnet, Duncansby Head, Libster (LIB-ster) and Lybster (LYB-ster), Latheron.  Even names like “Caithness (Cayth-NESS).”  They were all foreign to me. They sounded funny. And when we first got there, the gals tossed them around so that it was dizzying to me. 

Now I know them. I can say them. And I have been to them. I can now use them as a normal part of my speaking.  But now I am back in the Pacific Northwest, where the names of towns are often Indian names.  They are names like “Puyallup” (Pyew-AL-up), “Snowhomish” (Snow-HO-mish), “Issaquah” (ISS-a-kwah) “Yakima” (YAK-i-mah), “Cowiche” (Cow-ITCH-ee), and “Spokane” (Spo-KAN).  These are also names that were confusing and overwhelming to me 20 years ago, but I have grown to know these places and can pronounce them properly and can even locate on a map. 

I miss walking everywhere. Yes, even when the wind is blowing. 

Especially my 3-minute walk to Tesco. 

Salad. In proper proportions. 

Thurso only sold salad in sizes like that bags at the back of this picture.
I was buying 2 bags of salad every other day. 

One last comment. Mike’s company had a holiday dinner and dance last Saturday night. Early on, we met a young couple sitting at the table with us. They had just moved here in June from Bristol, England, where they had lived with their 2 young children for 3 years. When they heard we had just returned from Scotland, they asked, “How long have you been back?”  When we replied with, “Two weeks,” they immediately responded, “So, you’re still in mourning.”  They nailed it. That is exactly how we have been feeling. 

We feel as though we have lost something dear and we are mourning the loss.

It is not just missing the beauty of Scotland and the friends and the small town and the care-free life we seemed to be living there. It is also missing the way Mike and I lived there with each other. We had time together every day that we have never had in our married life. We got up at 6 am, and for an hour every morning, we sat together in our “room with a view” that looked out over the river and the bridge because Mike did not have to leave for work until 7:15.  Mike got home every night by 5:00 and we talked about the day, or sometimes went for a walk up the river or over to the pier at the beach before eating supper at 6. We got to go dancing twice a week and enjoyed the company of the friends we were making. We had our own Bible study every week, where we each had time to talk about scripture and pray together. 

      Life here is different. It is faster-paced. It is scheduled.  Mike gets up at 4:30 am and is gone by 5:30 am. I do not get up before 6 am. 

We are mourning what was.

And just as we were afraid would happen, it does feel like Scotland was a dream. Of course we have thousands of pictures to remind us of the reality of it, and we have the shared experiences to talk about and laugh about, but how quickly that happened! 

Yes, we will adapt. Yes, we will incorporate some of those things from Scotland into our lives here. But it won’t be the same. We are not the same people returning home.

I have a sign in my sewing room that I posted there when my first child left home so that I would see it often and be reminded of the message.  I knew it was good and right for children to grow up  and leave home, but I went through a time of mourning - mourning the loss of what our family used to be and that it would never be that way again. This is the sign. And I think it applies equally well at this time.  

Change is inevitable. Life is about how we change. And as my Scottish friends would say, “Now get on with it.”

PS. I expect there to be just one more post to this blog – sometime in January.