Time in Scotland

Because of Scotland's northern latitude, our days there were long ones. (About 15 hours of daylight every day.) The effect was heightened by our relative lack of plugged-in-ness. Our American cellphones were useless overseas and remained turned off, waiting for the moment when our plane homeward would touch down in Newark. The Great Lodging, where we stayed, had no apparent phone service of its own. There was an internet cafe in town, but I didn't use a computer once (!), and I think Terri only went in to check and see if she'd made the lottery list for the Old Course.

The hardest things about parenting for me have been the responsibilities from which there is no escape. When your child calls for you from his bed, you get up. If it gets to be 10pm on a school night and you suddenly realize you haven't made a lunch yet, it doesn't matter how tired you are. There has to be a lunch. If your small person's bedtime is 8pm, then someone has to be in the house with him from that point onward. We've never quite seen our way clear to paying for a sitter just so we could go walking after dark.

But in Scotland, with the D-man safely tucked under his aunt and uncle's wings way over in Maryland, we could sleep in as late as we liked. And stay up as late as we liked. And mosey on home from the fish & chip place on the harbor whenever it seemed appropriate. I took this picture as we turned and headed "home" one evening. And I have no idea what time it was.

(More pictures,
in case you hadn't noticed,
are over here.)