"Stamp" by The Rural Alberta Advantage
"King of Kreuzberg" by Shotgun Jimmie
It's not that I like the rain. I grew up on the West Coast. Rain is just a fact of existence, as inevitable as moss between the toes come summer. So don't take me for some kind of deranged rain-worshipping hippie (I am, at worst, a mild-climate with a seasonal drizzle-worshipping hippie). It's like Paris. If you went to Paris and it was bright and sunny, wouldn't you be disappointed? It should be overcast with a slight drizzle. London should be damp and foggy. And Scotland... well, Scotland should have ducks swimming in the streets.
Not that it hasn't been humid here. My hair alternates wildly between adorable ringlets and ridiculous frizz. But nearly everyday thus far, we've woken up to bright, blue skies. Nary a cloud. It's not that I'm disappointed with the beautiful summer weather (as in, this could be it for the summer, so enjoy the sun now), but it just doesn't fit with my stereotype of Scotland. I think even Miguel was eager for a proper rainstorm. The other day I was hanging wash up on the deck while Miguel was going round the side of the house, into the utility room. All of a sudden, Miguel excitedly shouts up "it's raining! Kate, it's raining!"
I look up and there's not even a cloud in the sky. "No, it's really not."
"Yes, it is! It's raining," he insisted, followed by a very long pause. "Oh. Nevermind."
"Sprinkler from next door?"
"Yup."
You'd think that by now I'd know to be careful what I wished for. When the weekend rolled around and Shivaali and Madeleine were due to visit, then the rain was inevitable. On Saturday, we headed up to St. Andrews for the afternoon, raingear in tow. Luckily, the rain held off until about half an hour before we left for Cellardyke, so I was able to get a good few photos of St. Andrews Cathedral (c. 1160-1409) entrance,
nave,
and east end, behind the altar
St. Rules tower (which predates the Cathedral, c. 1130 AD)
a 1750 (?) gravestone with a (possible) death's head at the bottom,
the Castle (c. 1200 AD, but many improvements until 1689 AD),
and my favourite photo of the day which is of the north side of the Castle's wall:
The tunnels under the castle, which were built during the siege of 1546, are interesting, but not very expansive. Essentially, it's one tunnel that leads into a larger chamber where the counter-mine was encountered. It's a little narrow in parts, but nothing like the Horne Lake Caves.
But after so bravely going underground, we felt a hearty lunch was due. Miguel led us to the West Port,
which is by the West Port (originally the So'gait port, c. 1589, renvonated in 1843). However, by the time we finished lunch, the skies had opened up and the rain was bucketing down.
After we returned to Cellardyke there was no more than an hour left before Shivaali and Madeleine, our very first house guests, were back on a bus for Edinburgh, in spite of all our machinations to get them to stay another night. Miguel and I settled down in front of the fire, watched Doctor Who, and listened to the wind-whipped rain on our tile roof.
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