Merry Christmas to all.....

T’was the night before Christmas, at the UK Coffey house.
Everyone was jolly, even my ba-humbug spouse.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care…
In the hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there.
The kitties were nestled all snug under the tree,
Still standing, a miracle, with those mischievous three
And the guys in their short sleeves and I in my fleece,
Happy with our visions of Santa, goodies and world peace.

When out in the driveway there arose such a clatter,
I sprang (ok ambled) from the couch to see what was the matter.
Away to the window, I flew like a flash, tore back the curtain
And straightened my sash (‘World’s Best Mom’…it does say)
The moon gleamed on the driveway still wet from the last rain
Reflected on my wreath as a 50 mph gust blew it away.
When what do my wondering eyes to appear…
But some miniature dachshund dressed up like reindeer!

With little old walkers, so lively and quick…
I knew in a moment it was our neighbors, Debbie and Nick.
With a little plastic bag, to toss in the bin
(so no one has to tread where your pooch has been)
More rapid than eagles these dachshunds they came
And he whistled and shouted and called them some names!

“Now Dachshunds! Now stop it! You weasels! You Pests!
Have mercy! My goodness- is bacon on your breath?
To the top of the porch, to the top of my wall
Now gnash away, gnash away! (Hope I don’t fall!)

The grandparents, so lovey, we Skyped with their heads,
As they tried to convince sugared-up grandkids into beds.
The Bean soundly sleeping, a cat draped across his head;
Leaving us, his parents, with the time we most dread.
To put together those toys pulled out from under beds.
Those stinkin’ Elves – I’m not well chuffed (meaning happy)
We need fluent *Chinese to assemble this stuff! (*No harm meant…)

Hours they passed and too much coffee consumed
Morning just breaking - we were certainly doomed!
The last screw was tightened, all the decals were stuck.
Oh D@mn! wouldn’t you know it?
I forgot that one flamin’ recycling truck!

On my wish list, all I needed, was just a bit of snow
But the forecast is rain, this is England you know.
Thinking about all the family this holiday we’ll miss
Sending you all a huge Christmas kiss!
Christmas this year is different for our family of three
Wishing all of our kindred could be here, you see.
It warms me to know we sleep underneath the same sky
(Oh good grief, I promised myself I wouldn’t cry.)
Warm holiday wishes, and a ride on Santa’s sleigh….

A VERY MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL….FROM THE COFFEY’S UK!!!!!

Ah, UK Monster Truck Show

If you have been following my posts for any length of time, you already know the Bean has an affection for Monster Trucks. Well, as soon as we found out there was a Monster Truck show in Bury St. Edmunds - we were there. The folks hosting this little get together were Monster Trucks Live.

If you purchased your tickets on line before the show you were allowed access into the 'pit party'. This was a no brainer due to the fact they had, among the various classic cars, the van from the A-Team, the Ghostbuster's wagon, K.I.T.T from the much loved Knight Rider,  and the Duke brother's General Lee (woot!!!). Much to our delight a few other favorites were at the show as well. The 'Back to the Future' DeLorean, complete with a hover board in the front seat. I really loved the bombed out police car featured in the righteous Blues Brothers movies and the Trans Am from none other than the Smokey and the Bandit series. As a fan of the Archer cartoon, this was icing on the cake. I told the Hubs he should have worn his 'tactle-neck'. He responded how I should have worn a 'Don't Hassle the Hoff' tee. I told him I needed one. So here some of the pictures:

Squee! A-Team van!!

There were two dudes dressed up as Ghostbusters. I was disappointed they did not have their proton packs on. Amateurs. 

Bean and me in front of K.I.T.T. He had a voice loop with comments like "Right away Micheal' and 

"I must say Micheal, this adventure does have a certain appeal." Two phrases they should have had: "Micheal, please put your pants on" or "Micheal, you know you can't handle your liquor."

Much to my dismay, there were no mullets at the show. I thought that must be a prerequisite.

These people were neither Jake nor Elwood.

Speaking of rules, when you're at a outdoor festival (here they call them fetes) of any type, you must partake in the food. There were sausage baps, hamburgers (meh), brots, hotdogs, french fries (chips), fish and chips, ice cream, and those delicious funnel cakes. And beer. When it's hot outside and the beer costs less than the soft drinks, you drink beer. (Bean did not have beer - he drank the juice boxes we brought with us. I don't like him to drink tons of sugar or fake sugar. We did let him have 'Lemonade' which is the Brit Sprite.) Plus there is no fear about where to toilet, because England has some of the most posh porta-potties I have ever seen. There were vases of fake flowers super glued to the back of the tank, framed pictures nailed to the walls, curtains on the windows and the sink (which had running water) was also inside the structure. Yep. Quite the departure from the old honey pots back in the states. Next time I am in one, I will have to take some snaps. I haven't before out of fear that others would think I was daft. Oh well- this is for documentary purposes!

After we checked out the cars and ate some lunch we ambled towards the arena so we could nab a decent view of the show. The arena was farm fencing and some hay bales about a half a football field in length. It is hard to explain to an antsy five year old why you are standing still in the hot sun crammed in with tons of other people when there is nothing to see for another 30 minutes or more. After waiting for what seemed like hours, the sponsor and the drivers each took the microphone and proceeded to ramble on for about 15-20 minutes each. You want to know what kids are even less interested in than history? A monster truck driver yammering on about how happy he is to be a monster truck driver. GET IN THE TRUCK ALREADY!

When the show did finally start, and quite frankly after seeing a 'real' monster truck show in the Edward Jones Dome in St. Louis, the Bean was like, "Meh, I'm ready to go". We thought we'd be smart and go back to the pit area and see if we could take a look at the cars while the masses were watching the show, but the pit was deserted. We let Bean jump at one of those gymnastic-harness things(?) which have become popular with outdoor festivals these days.

I have to say, the pit party was much better than the actual Monster Truck show. They only featured four trucks and it took forever for them to get the show on the road- er, off road. There was almost an altercation in the stands, when a couple of parents shoved their three kids in front of me, the Bean and another kid and his Dad. The Dad looked at me and said, "Wow, cause we haven't been standing here in the hot sun." I just smiled and responded, "That's ok, I'm sure it won't be a problem when the Hubs gets back from toilet." The people took the hint and promptly removed their children from in front of us. The Dad gave me a smile and said, "Nice." Then when the Hubs got back he looked at the Hubs and the looked at me and said, "I would have moved, too." Yep, speak clearly and travel with an angry Husband. As with most things in life, this can be summed up by a Patrick Swayze quote. This one from Roadhouse: "I want you to be nice - until its time to not be nice." That's also kind of a Southern thing, too.

Heading out, back to the cow field where we'd parked the car, we came to a startling revelation. The best view of the stunts and the trucks was outside the gated area. I'm telling you, next time, we're packing a picnic lunch and watching from the field. You could actually see the trucks and the noise level was much more manageable. It would also be so much more enjoyable not to be crammed in like a sardine with 9,234 other people who came to the event with you.

I'm not saying we had a bad time - quite the contrary - any experience is a educational one at the very least. There were several times when one of us said, 'keep it classy' and  I got to ponder why women contentiously choose inappropriate footwear for certain occasions. I'm not a hater, but I just cannot see who in their right mind would wear stiletto heels to aerate a cow field in the middle of the English countryside. That may just be me.

I am shocked that I have not posted this adventure until now. I knew I had been busy, but what a travesty to have neglected the Monster Truck experience for so long. Oh well, it makes up for the post drought!

Until next post!

Lisa

Gee, has it been this long???

Wow, I really didn't realize that the last time I posted was back in September. Really? My, my how time flies- no matter if you're having fun or not. Where to begin....



October- Halloween! The concept of Halloween, as we American's celebrate, is relatively new to the Brits. Here's how Halloween usually goes down here. The community we live in had a Halloween festival in our local "Millennium Center", so we decided to check it out. (Although Millennium Center sounds fancy - do not be fooled. It's like the back room at your local VFW or community center.) To get into the festivities, you had to pay per child (two pounds fifty) and in return you got a hot dog and a drink. The hot dog looked like a hoagie roll with a Vienna sausage in the middle. I saw a lot of moms holding their child's 'baguette' after only eating the wienie concealed therein. Perhaps this was the 'trick' in the trick-or-treat. Apparently the standard hot dog bun has not made its way across the pond. They had tables decorated and laid out with sweets, cupcakes, cookies, various confections and little 'trinklets'-all of which you could buy. I was slightly offended at this; coming from small town America where we shove candy and treats at each other both the day of and the days leading up to Halloween. They also assumed that the only costumes you could don on Halloween are: a witch, a skeleton, vampire or zombie. They were baffled at Bean's Astronaut costume. Which, by the way, is pretty neat-o.

Spaceman Spiff

   

We wondered how things were going to go down in the 'hood', since this trick-or-treating gig was all new to them, so we headed to the base for the American style 'trunk-or-treat' followed by more trick-or-treating at the on base houses. We were just about to finish up our route, we had one street of houses left, when the Bean announced, "my bag is full. I want to go home now." The Hubs and I looked at each other in disbelief, but you just don't look a gift horse in the mouth. We headed for home.

British children, if they did dress up, were very upset at the idea of me selecting the treat for them. They wanted to choose themselves. Um, you're pushing it, kid. I have a stanch 'no costume no treat' rule at this house. They also pulled the 'can I get one for my brother/sister/cousin/ friend/ friend's brother/sister'....you get the point. Before I could answer, the Hubs shouted from behind me, "One hand -one treat!" They selected their treat and went on their way - quickly. I just knew I was going to wake up to a pumpkin massacre on my front step the next morning, but no such vandalism.

My only regret is that I didn't get a better shot of the jet pack. Its hard to hit a moving target, tho.

In between Halloween and more scrapping with the school and the county council, was Guy Fawkes Night, where they celebrate with bonfires and fireworks. Meh, I'll keep Halloween thank you very much.

Ah, yes...we took a little trip to York. This was fantastic. York is approximately 2 1/2 hours from our little homestead. Lots of great scenery, tons of tractors and combines driving down the A1, and a little Bean nap made the trip fun. The horrible traffic delay made the trip more like a sharp poke in the eye. Not to be morbid, but if I am delayed in my journey by an hour or more, I'd better at least see some mangled car bits, skid marks or an ambulance - otherwise I feel robbed. I was robbed.

So we didn't arrive in York until late afternoon. Since daylight savings time started October 27th, that meant we had about 30 minutes until complete darkness. We checked into our accommodations and headed out into the town proper to scope out the next day's adventures. I have found that with people's suggestions on what to do and where to go, is that you have about a 50/50 chance of achieving the same fantastical experience. My first question to them is: do you have a five year old male child with the attention span of a fruit fly?

Keeping that in mind, we dined our first night at a restaurant called Evil Eye Lounge. It served Asian cuisine, so I knew the Hubs would be happy and I was pretty certain the Bean and I could find something good to eat.

Downstairs was crowded with a couple of small serving tables and housed the fantastically ornate bar, while upstairs was the extra seating and lounge area of the bar. We found a nice 4 top next to a window where we could peer down at the cobblestone streets at the tourists and the groups waiting for various ghost tours to begin. The 'lounge' part of the restaurant were actually beds. The beds were screened in three sides by screens carved ornately with middle eastern motif with lots of pillows. This would have been ok with me, if the couple inhabiting the 'bed' adjacent to us wouldn't have been sucking face in the plain view of my five year old son. Lucky for me, he didn't notice and is easily distracted.

Well the Hubs and I enjoyed our meals. The Bean, not so much. He is one of those pesky children who refuses to try anything that doesn't look exactly like as it does at home. When you do manage to get a bit in his mouth he either makes a gag face or actually gags. Sometimes I find this amusing, but sometimes it just about sends me into orbit.

The next morning we headed out to the much promised, National Rail Museum. We took a lazy walk to the museum since it didn't open until 10 am. here are some snaps we took along the way:

The light was fantastic. Every time we go somewhere new, I am struck by the amount of history I am surrounded by on all sides. Then there are people, everyday people, just going about their lives as if its normal. I suppose it is normal, but still. I am really in awe.

Here we are at St Mary's Abby. The old craggy walls and the open sarcophagi with stones older than the oldest settlement in the states.  And my kid is just running his monster truck down the stone pillars. Hum... yes its humbling.

The memorial day ceremonies were taking place - thus why we couldn't continue on the rock wall surrounding he city. The 12 mile wall surrounding the city was one of two items on the Hub's list to do whilst in York. Slightly bummed about not getting able to trek any of the wall, but secretly excited because this meant we could wander back to the Newgate Marketplace and the Shambles. Woo, buddies! This was coolsville. It is just awesome to stroll down a street which has remained the same since before the black plague leveled the population.

We'd walked up the Shambles (the night before) to take a look at the shops (having heard that the Shambles were packed with tourists during the day) and I struck up a conversation with some ladies who were also window shopping. I overheard one of them described some little dolls in a window display as Golliwoggs. The Hubs and I were quite shocked to see these types of dolls on display and they appear to be quite popular. They also told me about the Cats in York tour where we could take Bean on an iron feline scavenger hunt.

The Newgate Marketplace was pretty fun. We needed to replace Bean's gloves and finally found the Hubs a Indiana Jones hat. Here I am wearing the hat:

Trust me, the Hubs looks much better in it, but as he was carrying a very tired Bean on his shoulders, I played the stand-in. I look much more stunning in the snugly cashmere sweater I nabbed at 75% off retail at the Edinburgh Woolen Mill .

However, the brunt of our trip was spent inside the National Rail Museum. At first the bean was not at all interested in the trains, especially the Royal coaches on display, but managed to crack up a small crowd of people when he asked, "Dad, where's the TV?" The tide turned when we found the antique lorries that were used to bring goods and service the trains. This was a pivotal moment in history. For me, that is, not the locomotive industry.  I witnessed monster trucks slide into second place -and trains secured the top spot in the interests category. This is a much welcomed change. So much so that we spent two days at the museum.

Here are some humorous signs that made me giggle to think these were actually displayed in train stations once upon a time. 

I have a lot more pictures I'll be posting on FB, so if you're interested in the rest of the photos you'll have to check them out there. (Or if you want to be friendly - send me a request.) The Bean was so enthralled he couldn't not be bothered to look at the camera. He was too busy watching the museum attendant fix the model display that jack-knifed off the rails.

This was the display the day before when it was working properly:

The things we missed this trip were Jorvik and the Jorvik Dig, the Chocolate Tour, and the York Minster. Which, by the way, has a fantastical stained glass window the size of a tennis court. The entire backside of the Minster was scaffolded off for renovation. So we will definitely go back to York to partake of these wonderful sights, plus the Hubs was really sore we did not get to walk along the ancient wall. 

One place we dined, twice, was the 

This was fun because since Merry Old England does not celebrate Thanksgiving, they jump right into the Christmas/ Yule Tide Holiday. (They are still a bit sore about that whole 'independence from England' episode.)The Inne was festively decorated and all the waitstaff were wearing ugly Christmas sweaters and Santa hats. In most pubs and restaurants, they are known for their 'Sunday Roast'. This is always amazing. I have never had a bad Sunday roast. The Ye Olde Starre Inne was cosy and very affordable. I spotted the sidewalk sign and made the executive decision to go there for food as soon as I sensed grumpiness from my traveling companions. The Inne was located in an off-street mews, and we managed to get there minutes before everyone else decided to grab a table- twice.  I would definitely recommend this place to anyone and feel a bit excited to find this little gem not listed in my Rick Steves guide book. Perhaps I will send him a little FYI about it....then again-maybe not. 

Everyone got a new hat at the Newgate Marketplace, actually. Bean picked out his replacement gloves. Yes, they are purple stripped, but they had pigs on them and so he would not have any other pair.  The moose hat is incredibly adorable and easy to pick out of a crowd. 

There are tons of other stories and pictures I could elaborate on, like Clifford's tower:

Which has nothing to do with a certain big, red dog. It does have a rather morbid history.Then again, this is England so you can't really go anywhere with out finding out some morbid tale of woe. 

We'd also heard that we 'had to go to' the Trembling Madness, and we tried it. To say we tried it meant that we went into the restaurant/pub, took a look at the mounted animals on the wall, saw the line at the bar (you have to order food from the bar), took a look at the one cook/bartender and the 10 food tickets still hanging on the line,and decided to head out. At least we can say we've been there.  The upside is this lead us to the Olde Starre Inne. 

I must apologize for the lack of humor in this post. I have been trying to finish this for about a week or more, and with two sick males at my house it has drained most of my energy- comedic or otherwise. 

Our next big adventure, and I don't want to spoil it, will be much more exciting. I hope.

Until next time....

Lisa

Scotland Part II

OK, it has just occurred to me I have not posted part two of our fabulous Scotland trip. I have no other acceptable excuse other than I have been dealing with a malfunctioning boiler system (Read: no heat and no hot water) and fighting with Bean's school. I have my anger (and the Hubs) to keep me warm, but clearly the school does not the realize who they are dealing with. Mess with my son, and you're about to get a physics lesson. Two gallons of crazy will not fit into a one gallon bucket.

We took the train to Oban. It is about a two hour trip. The scenery is, as always, amazing. Bean enjoyed talking to me about what we were passing,

but mostly liked playing with Hub's tablet.

Ah, but Scotland. The Hubs and I went to Oban back in 2006, where I witnessed the phenomenon of 'the leaden turd'. Truly a magnificent wonder of nature, the leaden turn was on the list of things I wanted to go back and see. It has become evident to me that our Scottish brethren do not partake a tremendous amount of fiber. But let me set the scene. The Hubs and I, then childless, went to Oban as a side trip and ended up in a pub called the Oban Inn. The place was packed and we were asked by a lovely British couple if we wouldn't mind sharing our table. Of course, being the generous people we are, certainly let them dine with us. After a few pints, as often happens, people loosen up (even the Brits!) and we started talking. I excused myself and went into the loo to take care of business. I chose the middle stall. I was very disappointed and a little grossed out to find a turd resting in the bottom of the toilet. "Nasty people", I said to myself and proceeded to flush the loo. Well, in England you have two options when it comes to water pressure. The first option is a trickle at best, and the second option being the velocity of a fire hose. This loo was the second choice. The first time I flushed, I grabbed onto the handrails out of fear of being sucked into the bowl. Miraculously, as the bowl stilled, the turd was there - unscathed and unmoved. I marveled and was a bit disconcerted at the same time. I finished my business at hand and flushed again. The turd was still there. I washed my hands and exited the toilets. 

Upon returning to the table,  and seeing the look of bewilderment on my face, here is the conversation between myself and the British lady:

Her: "Did you enter the middle stall?"

Me: Nodding in the affirmative

Her: "Did you see it?" 

Me: "Yes!!!" 

Her: "Did you attempt to dispose of it?"

Me: "YES!!"  

Her: "Was it still there?"

Me: "YES!! I am baffled. This is beyond my comprehension."

At this point the men demanded to know what in the world we were talking about. I told them there was a 'leaded turd' the the ladies room. They demanded I take photos. So I did. Same procedure as before. A shot of the bowl before, followed by a during flush shot, and finally an after photo complete with the water trail present as the bowl refilled after flush. 

So I put a trip to the Oban Inn on my places to revisit list. I am very sad to report that the world will never know if the leaded turd is still there because the Oban Inn was boarded up. One could speculate that the local health inspector shut the door because of unsanitary conditions in the waste facilities.  

But, Oban is gorgeous!

Oban, Scotish Gaelic for 'little bay' is a quaint seaside town full of fishing boats, ferries and history. It's actually the seafood capital of Scotland. As with any Scottish town, be prepared to endure at least a bit of rain; whether it be a dampening mist or an all out downpour. Here's the Bean marveling at the boats at the shoreline as we departed the train station:

I am very please to announce we have been able to introduce boats into Bean's list of things he is excited about. I am happy to move, even ever so slightly, away from monster trucks, farm machinery and construction equipment for a while. 

It was too early to check into our accommodations, Cameron Guest House, owned by a lovely couple named Chris and Eiligh. This was not your normal B&B, as they did not serve breakfast, but she was able to recommend Carolyn's Cafe  a lovely cafe just up the street. We received 10% off our meal when we informed them where we were staying during our trip. If you get the bap, you'd better bring your hungry. It was a steal at 2 pounds ninety, and I couldn't finish mine. 

We arrived in the afternoon, and we just walked around reminiscing about our previous visit to Oban and found a table at the beautiful Columbia Hotel , had a late pub lunch and looked over the pamphlets we'd nabbed from the tourist information center. 

We checked in to our accommodations.

A fabulously restored guest house about a five minute walk to the middle of town and a 10-15 minute walk (depending on if you have a pokey child) to the ferry or train station. We booked a family room with one double and a single bed. The rooms were tastefully furnished and the en-suite shower had amazing water pressure. Here is me and the Bean intrigued by some Brit TV (note the monster truck):

Before dinner we took a stroll up the seaside to take a look at the swans and let Bean work off some energy on his scooter when the rain started coming down in sheets. As luck would have it we were a pretty good distance from our guest house. We ducked into Markie Dan's, another place we'd visited before and had a rousing time. We shut down the place back in '06 with the pub owner, several locals and three Australian triathletes who just happened to be taking tequila shots. They were slamming the shot, snorting the salt and squirting the lemon in their eye. Yep, quite an interesting night was had by all. 

We were eventually going to stop in and see if they remembered us from our visit before, only to find out the owner and his wife had split and sold the bar to the wife's sister. So, the moral of the story is nothing remains the same. The evening was not a total bust. The Bean tugged on my sleeve and pointed to some 'pirates' who'd entered just shortly after we arrived. 

It turns out that the 'pirates' were dudes from Germany who were avid bikers on a trek to a convention. This pirate's name was Hans. He was such a sweet guy. His motorcycle had a teddy bear strapped to the windscreen. Yep, gotta be careful with those biker types - they'll cuddle you if you're not careful.  

Once the rain stopped we walked down the main street and placed a to-go order at the Oban Fish and Chip Shop, the very fish and chip shop that Rick Stein touted as 'the best fish and chips' he'd ever tasted.  We had just watched an episode of Rick Stein eating 'the best' food in another exotic location,  so we wanted to try the Oban Fish and Chip Shop for ourselves. (Since Mr. Stein's declaration, there has been a bit of a war going on between two local chip shops as to who has the 'best' fish and chips.)

Well,  I should say, the Bean and I tried it. The Hubs wanted Chinese food and was rewarded with the 'worst Chinese food he'd ever had.' For a man who loves his Chinese food, this was a bold statement and further reinforced his dismay when he promptly walked back up to the restaurant and demanded his money back. If the Hubs says your Chinese food sucked, then your Chinese food probably did suck. If you are ever in Oban, do not patron the Crystal Palace. 

I have to say, even without dining at the other chip shop, they did have some of the best fish and chips I'd ever eaten. The Bean asked for seconds. The portions were huge and the fish was awesomely fresh. Well, they probably had just gotten it from the bay that afternoon, so about as fresh as you can get without pulling it from the water yourself. 

We did a bit of shopping Monday morning and then hopped the ferry to the Isle of Mull. This was fun. Bean had never been on such a big boat and you can imagine his frothing-at-the-mouth excitement when he was able to watch all the cars, lorries and work trucks boarding the ferry with us. It was pretty cool to see the hull of the ship open like a giant mouth and let the autos board.

Us on the ferry:

 And here is the house I would love to call home:

A picture of a cool cruise ship hanging out in the bay:

The ferry ride was pretty darned cool. You can tell by the gray sky that the weather was kinda dreary, but when we got to Mull it cleared off briefly and the sun came out for approximately 10 minutes. We poked around for a bit and headed back to Oban. I could post more shots of the trip back, but if you want to see those you'll have to be at my house this Saturday night for the PowerPoint presentation. (I would say slideshow, but I would be telling my age and some people may not get the joke.) I'll probably post them on Facebook...

When we got back to Oban we took Bean to the shore to play for a bit. He really liked throwing rocks and seaweed into the frigid waters. I had to explain (multiple times) that his scooter may not be used as a flotation device nor would it scoot on water. Ah, the inquisitive mind.

I briefly turned away from my shell hunting to see Bean holding a wine bottle. My first instinct was to yell "DROP IT", but then I realized the bottle had a message inside. Oh joy! Then I had to yell "HOLD IT -WAIT" as he was about to follow directions (rare) and chuck the bottle back into the surf. I was unbelievably excited to find a message in a bottle! The Bean- not so much:

The message was from a 6 year old girl who asked that we let her know when her bottle was plucked from the water. I sent a message to the email address provided, but at this date have not heard back. I did give the bottle and note to Bean's teacher because, as luck would have it, the class theme this term is 'all things seaworthy' so they will prepare a package to send to the little girl. (Yes, I will be getting my bottle and note back.)

No trip to Oban would be complete without a trek to McCaig's Tower. Its a pretty good hike up to the monument, but along the way you pass the 'art district' of Oban and some fantastic examples of the phenomenon known as 'graffiti knitting' or 'yarn bombing'.

Yep, that's flaming dog poo. You might want to have your pooch checked out...

Once you drag your otherwise energetic child to the top of the hill you are rewarded with some fantastic views of the bay and Oban proper.

Here is my child photobombing the Hubs at the top of the tower.

 

This trek concluded out stint in Oban. What a fabulous time. We hauled our belongings back to the train station for the return trip to Glasgow. The return trip is always quicker because you are rolling down the mountain instead of the train huffing and grunting up the mountain. The scenery never fails to leave me in complete awe.

One last shot of the Bean and Hubs on the ride home:

Yep, that's a combine harvester and Grave Digger. Oh and my next, next post (I have one more day to report in Glasgow) will be the MONSTER TRUCK SHOW this...Sunday!SUNDAY! Sunday! And yes, I am going to the pit show. Would you miss the van from the A-Team? Kit from Knight Rider? The General Lee? If you said 'yes' then obviously you are not a boy Mom, nor a child of the 80's.

Until next post.....


Lisa

O.M.G Scotland!!

OK. I know I've been 'radio silent' for the past few weeks, but now I am back in force. Sometimes life travels faster than my fingers can record, but eventually I have a moment. I have so much overload this will probably be more than a single post. Maybe. I tend to ramble.

We decided to take a trip to Scotland for Labor Day. First, we needed to visit the Hub's Aunt Cathie. That was a given. She is a wonderful person and to be this close and not visit would be a shame. And second, we needed a good end to Bean's Summer vacation. So the plan was to head out, via car, to Glasgow on Thursday the 29th of August. We started out at high noon. 

The drive was simply amazing. The trip was very short by Coffey family road trip standards, at five hours and forty five minutes. We traveled through the Lake District via the M6. We chose the M6, even though it was a toll road (five pounds fifty) because one of the Hub's coworkers told him a fabulous story about driving at German Autobahn speeds and in scant traffic. I beg to differ, but tons of amazing scenery and the portable DVD player made the trip very enjoyable.

We did have a mascot for the trip. Enter Harmony Smurf.

I must admit that Aunt Cathie lives outside of Glasgow proper, but a twenty minute train ride and you're in the heart of Glasgow.

Our first night was just getting settled and reacquainted with (Great) Aunt Cathie and Uncle Brian. We had not seen Aunt Cathie for three years and Hub's cousin Brian for seven years. Uncle Brian won a special place in the Bean's heart simply for the shared love of 'Tom and Jerry'cartoons. Brian, having two boys of his own (now 15 and 17) enjoyed rough-housing with Bean.  We had spaghetti for dinner and remarked how different the weather was from England. There was a stanch 10 degree temperature difference and the wind had a bit of a chill.  Good think I brought my scarf. And my fleece. And my parka. And my rain coat.

It was really an odd sensation driving into Glasgow.  The other times we had visited we were in a taxi (no so) fresh from the airport. I was usually passed out from jet lag and missed the entire drive from the airport.

Friday we took the train into Glasgow. We traveled all the way to Scotland to find the much sought after monster truck, Captain's Curse. Here is Captain's Curse ravaging the miniature model of the city:

I have warned you before and I will stand by my statement: kids don't care about history. This means we did not take in any of the fabulous museums, galleries or historic places of interest. Nope. What captivated the Bean for almost the entire day?? Yep, the constant construction going on all over Glasgow. That is pretty much all he wanted to do.

So many thanks to 'Sir Robert McAlpine'. You made the Bean's trip. The fact that the crane operator waved at Bean was icing on the cake. You'd of thought we'd seen Sir Elton John. While we were watching the construction taking place, I happened to glance behind me and saw this van:

Some of my friends and I have a running joke about a mobile mammography unit, and apparently the Scottish ran with the concept. It takes so little to make me giggle.

I went into my first TK Max. Yes, I mean TK, and not TJ Max - like we have in the states. Same adverts, same logo, just the difference of one letter. I realized I need to frequent them more often. They have some killer stuff and at great prices, even when I do the exchange math in my head. I am awful at converting the UK/EU sizes to the US counterpart. And most stores do not carry many half sizes in footwear which means I have to try on shoes and boots. This minor setback probably makes the Hubs happy. I got to browse the store by myself, too. I am sure that most moms will agree, especially the moms of boy children, that attempting to try on anything with a child in the dressing room is like, well, wrangling cats. Plus, the availability of good English beers has expanded my boot.

We then sought out a place to have lunch. I like going to dine in the ancient pubs, but unfortunately, most of them have age restrictions. Even during the day. So I eventually put my foot down and the Hubs conceded to eat in the TGIFriday's. Yes, I am ashamed. All the places to eat and we went into a chain of an American restaurant. It turned out OK. When we were in Scotland in 2006, we took a snap of the Wellington Statue which apparently is famous for the traffic cone mounted on either the rider or the horse's head. When we went in '06, the cone was on the rider's head. This visit it was on the horse. (Notice the 'apparition' in the window -maybe I've recorded a ghost? Probably not, but it looks cool anyway.)

I asked our waiter about this, after noticing his 'flair' pin of the statue (with cone) he donned on his suspenders. I wanted to know where I could get one. He told me the cone bit was a running gag among the locals. Much to my surprise, he gave me his flair. Score! The Hubs is usually the one who manages to get the good swag. One trip he got a ScotRail Jacket from the Conductor of the train (no less!) and another trip he got a beret complete with the ship insignia from a retired Royal Naval Seaman we met in our local pub the Horse and Barge. Ah, the magic of beer and Johnny Cash!

We ended our day back at Aunt Cathie's where she had prepared some beef stew. Uncle Brian mentioned going to the aforementioned Horse and Barge to have a couple of pints. Once I had sent the Bean off to slumberland, we left Aunt Cathie in charge (she raised three boys - I felt she was qualified) and we headed up to the pub. Just our luck, a Beatles tribute band, Just John and Paul were on the slate for that evening's entertainment. I have to admit, I was not a huge Beatles fan, but after this night you can count me in!! They had a mixing board with the missing Beatles member's vocal harmony and instrumentation tracks coupled with their live musical accompaniment. They really rocked the house. Some how they found out we were not only from the US, but from North Carolina as well, and embarrassed us accordingly. I only regret that my phone was dead from the ample photos I took and was not able to get a photo with them. This was the first night out that the we had without child in a while and we stayed out until a blazing 12 o'clock!

The next day - we were headed to OBAN.....

Until next post....

Lisa