A Scottish disappointment, a somber happy hour, and a wild sandwich

 

If you know much about me, you know that my maiden name is MacBain and that I am a fan of all things Scottish—except yesterday I had a disappointment. Fortunately, it wasn’t major and didn’t affect my love for the land of my ancestors.

Before I get to the story of my disappointment, I want to say something about my last name and pen names. These days so many divorcees take their maiden name back. I didn’t because I had four little Alters and a smidgeon of a reputation as a writer. Many times I wished I was writing as Judy MacBain—I have a lot of emotion invested in that name and not much, except maybe lingering regret, in the Alter name. But it is far too late to change now. Once, a man I worked for thought I should be writing as Judith MacBain Alter. I asked Larry Swindell, then book editor of the Star-Telegram, what he would think if I did that, and he replied, “I’d think Judy Alter had taken on airs.” That was the end of that. And I never wanted to use a pen name—if I wrote it, I wanted people to know that.

Back to my disappointment: Mary found a company that gives live-streaming walking tours of various sights around the globe. Yesterday they had one scheduled of Edinburgh Castle and the Royal Mile. It came right in the middle of my morning work time but I determined to play hooky and watch it. I’ve been to the castle—ten or twelve years ago—and wanted to refresh my memory.

The tour opened with a shot of the entrance—fair enough. But the camera stayed on that shot … and stayed and stayed, every once in a while panning around to the parking lot and tourists coming and going. We saw a lot of castle employees moving barricades and looking busy, but we never got beyond the entrance. And I quickly figured out, hearing aids or no, the narrator had such a thick Scottish burr I couldna understand what he was saying. It’s like the bagpipes—I love the sound but never can detect the melody.

Finally, the camera moved on—down the Royal Mile, away from the castle. What we essentially saw was tourists coming and going. Occasionally the camera would pan on a specific business, but since I couldn’t understand the man, I had no idea of the importance. It was fun to see the architecture of the shops and structures, and the mix of tourists was interesting—but far from riveting. And periodically the camera froze, so the people were frozen in mid-step and odd angles. All in all, it was a royal disappointment.

We had happy hour tonight with Mary who goes into the hospital tomorrow for some heavy back surgery. So that was on our minds, and we are still reeling from the illness and death of Christian’s mother and the pending services. We have another friend in hospice, my brother still in the hospital, and tonight brought news of a friend who suddenly has several unrelated health issues. We were a gloomy bunch, though we did have a laugh about the time Christian got us all lost in the tiny town of Edom, which is a hard place to get lost. Still, I was aware again tonight of what a difficult year 2023 has been—and I had such high hopes for it.

Tonight was sandwich night. The Burtons intended to eat in the cottage but got involved in

something in the house, so I ended making my own sub sandwich. I got carried away, went overboard, and made a gigantic sandwich. It was a real challenge to eat It, and I had to mop my desktop after I got through and probably should have taken a shower. It eventually got

The point at which
I gave up trying.

down to crumbs that were impossible to eat. Sure was good though.

In this topsy-turvy, uncertain year, we all need sweet dreams. May yours be blissful tonight.