Return

Our walk back from Jelly Hill last Thursday was a sad one as we said goodbye to old friends and new.  We were also weighed down with amazing gifts...amazing in part because they were totally unexpected and then because they just were.  Ann gave us two wonderful scarves, Pam a book of Charles Rennie Macintosh postcards, Tom & Marion Thornton's candy and two books from his personal library, and John & Carol's paperweight (without knowing that Lynn collects them) and a quaich.

The quaich is a ceremonial, communal cup, offered in Scottish households to family and friends, usually filled with usquebah, "the water of life," i.e. whisky. 

We mixed a few tears along with the rain as we walked down Byres Road to our flat for the last time on this trip.

The next morning Andrew picked us up at 6:30 a.m. and we off to Glasgow Airport for the 9:00 a.m. Continental flight to Newark, travelling east into the morning.  When we landed in Newark we collected our bags and cleared Customs.  I had to ask the Customs Agent, who did have a rather thick New Joisey accent to repeat his question, as my ear was still adjusting to life without that Scottish lilt.  When we rechecked the luggage we entered into the midst of a brewing argument between two baggage handlers, neither of whom appeared to want to place our bags on the conveyor.  We were finally directed to leave the bags, but I lingered just outside the area to watch and insure that the bags actually made it off the cart.  They did, quite emphatically, as the baggage agent lifted each bag about chest high and body slammed them into the conveyor.  I rushed back into the area, using a few choice variations of THAT WORD I learned at the feet out my Scottish mates. 

The flight to San Diego was uneventful and on-time.  It even included the airline version of a cheeseburger.  We arrived, our bags did not.  Nor did they arrive for two other Glaswegians who were visiting San Diego and had been travelling with us all day.  Ours were delivered to the house at 2:35 a.m., with only the metal container containing a bottle of Edradour somewhat the worse for wear.  I did have visions of Oban soaked clothes.  I would have looked the perfect fool sucking on whisky soaked laundry.

And so it's back to the routine.  The gym at 5:00 a.m., the office, coaching sessions, preparing for meetings, and a flight back to the East Coast to work with the amazing team at LAZ Parking.  We have about 1,500 photos to go through.

Our dinners have been spiced with reading the journal entries from the trip, keeping fresh wonderful memories.  We have also been grilled by friends, family, and acquaintances about the trip.

Tomorrow night Alan & Lilian will be stopping by for a wee dram and dinner.  They are Weegie ex-pats, planning to return over the holidays to visit their families.

Last evening we hosted a group at Wine Steals.  We started at 6:00 p.m. and left about 11:15 p.m. to return home, a solid effort.  Much to our surprise we both looked right as we stepped off the curb.  Fortunately no vehicle was approaching from the left, the true source of danger here.  My new mantra: Look left!