06 January 2009
Floyd, Scotland, USA
Fair and diligent reader, I have been most genteelly upbraided by one of your own, an urbane and sophisticated gentleman (in the auld sense) for not updating this blog more often. Said correction has been taken to heart with the utmost immediacy; fear not, no long gaps shall arise to deface this space in the ether.
As I arose at 6:30 a.m. today, there was a dense fog and the temperature was 38F. Now at 5:30 p.m., there is a dense fog and the temperature is 32F. The effect was elating, the vistas in constant flux, appearing and then disappearing as if in a rowdy reel. Nothing reminds me more of Scotland than these gifts from the weather faeires. As I savoured a cup of Queen Margaret's Hope tea from Whittard's of Dundee, the sounds of our friends voices seem to materialize and vanish into the mists. Ah, bonnie Scotland, we miss you. Even our lane, Falling Branch Road (above), looks so rural Scots.
After a trip to the bank, the cafe (catching breakfast in the last few minutes it is served before they switch to lunch), the Wills Ridge Building Supply Company, the Jesse Peterman Memorial Library, the final remaining errand was to the Mennonite operated Bread Basket to procure fresh sustenance for today and the near future, especially if the roads become iced for several days. I'd not shopped the Bread Basket before and assumed, quite wrongly, that their main content was baked goods. Actually, they carry many bulk foods and an amazing selection of seasoning plus meat, notions, etc. I stopped at the freezer and stared. And stared. Finally one of the young ladies working there asked if I needed help. The answer was yes, thank you for breaking the spell. Reaching into the freezer, I slowly and with great tenderness withdrew the remaining bits of some local cow (now in the transmuted form of ground beef). It was not the product which had entranced me but the label:
Hieland coo meat from Virginia? No, clearly something had malfunctioned on my teleporting machine and I was simultaneously in Scotland and Floyd. As if I required any further similarities to Scotland, this was the final, the finale. Ah, heaven on earth found: Scotland without the Scottish government.