Archive for December, 2012

“That was close,” I say when we get to the castle.

“Yeah. Isn’t that neat. Here we are just off the Royal Mile and we’re not paying hundreds of dollars for a room.”

Come to think of it, that is cool. People will think we stayed in some fancy hotel and we’ll just let them think that. In fact I can’t wait to tell everybody we had a place right by the castle.

We study the castle. I thought it would stand alone on top of the hill, but the city bumps right into it although the viewing stands erected here may help to give that impression and there’s this kind of roof thing in the space between the city and the castle. There’s no walking up a hill because, apparently, we’ve already walked up it.

The castle buildings are a mix from the 12th to the 20th century. During it’s life it’s been a fort, a palace, a garrison, a prison, and now it’s the home to the famous Edinburgh Military tattoo, which has nothing to do with skin decoration, but with soldiers marching around and pipers piping.

“Look. Soldiers.” We’re seeing our own little military tattoo, a small column of soldiers marching toward us. Aud takes a picture before we go closer in to the bridge. Entrance is £13.00.

“Next time, Pawnee Kitty. You do want to sit on Arthur’s Seat don’t you?”

“Yes, and I want to see the where all those people got killed by the plague.” There’s a place under the Royal Mile and Cowgate where people lived in cellars and basements back when everyone lived on top of one another and they all got cholera and typhus and smallpox and that. There are Ghost tours and history tours, but again, we don’t have the time. We are not on a Scotland visit, but a Northumberland one.

Since Aud wants to find Grayfriar’s Bobby we descend some stairs and go I don’t know where. The map isn’t being helpful. With no clues the plan is abandoned. We head back up to the Royal Mile passing the Tollbooth Kirk, which has the city’s highest spire.

“Let’s go in some shops now,” I beg Aud and we do. ‘To check out the prices’, she says. We go in several. We go out. As we stand at a street corner we see this man who may or may not be homeless.

“Is that a mat under his hat?” Aud whispers.

I peer closer. “No. It’s his hair.” We both now stare at the five-foot long swatch. It’s so unwashed; it’s turned to cardboard. Aud wonders if his scalp itches. Maybe he doesn’t feel it anymore.

The ‘walk’ sign appears and we cross the street. We’re the only ones who follow the rules. No, wait, there’s another group. Oh, they’re Germans. Go figure. It reminds Aud of an article she read in the New York Times how the typical German obeys all the traffic rules all the time. If there is a red light, they will stop even if it’s the middle of night and the middle of nowhere.


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I am writing this because I am mad at Amazon, so mad I could eat a cookie. If I had a cookie. This has made me so mad I forgot stuff at work and I needed those items. I am also writing this to help me feel better.

Once upon a time I could go to Amazon and download music to my computer. And I was happy.  I clicked. I bought. I played music. Then the evil Cloud Player came into existence. It demanded that all music go to it, the cloud.  Afterall, the Cloud Player monster said, everyone can afford to have an electronic player connect to the cloud and it is accessible everywhere.


All I wanted to do today was get a CD for my sister. It’s only available as a digital version. I should have cut and run right then and there. When I tried to download it, I found it would only go to the cloud and then I’d have to go to the Cloud Player and download it song by song. I didn’t want to do that.

Anyway, long story short I think I just donated $7.00 to Amazon.

I need to find an alternative music source.

I am still mad. This isn’t helping and I want a cookie.

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