Horseshoe Lake

My best guess is Lily is shepard and boxer. Did I mention she is super cute? Yesterday at Horseshoe Lake (I love my town, just a hop and a skip down the road and there's Upper Bidwell Park, wild and open and the entire west side is dog friendly) we found a deep pocket and she was quite entertaining swimming back and fourth fetching a stick. Such a happy girl (ok, happy girls). There was only a couple of people fishing so we had the far doggie side to ourselves. She would have loved to play with another pooch (she likes other dogs!), but it was nearing dusk so it was just she and I at the water's edge. The Maidu trail runs past the lake and so far she is not interested in the bicyclists or runners, unless they have a "playmate". I do keep a close eye on her to make sure she has nice manners and doesn't pester anyone with her puppy-ness. Everyone we have encountered have been very friendly, which is typical of Chico. We are all out just enjoying being out. She is very curious of the geese and ducks and everyday we see the momma with her two darling ducklings circling the tall reed island. There's always other birds including hawks above to watch. Thankfully, Lily has the short coat of a boxer and is easy to clean and dry after her romp. I say I am taking my dog to the lake to work off pent up energy and get some exercise...but actually she is taking me. :)

John Muir

John Muir was born and raised in Dunbar "Dùn Barra" (North Sea coastal town just east of Edinburgh "Dùn Èideann") until his family emigrated to the US when he was 11. (High Street statue on right) If I was taught this in school, the knowledge did not stick. I assumed he was a California son, which he really was as one does not need to be born in a land to belong to it. And John Muir truly loved California.

John Muir was a long time friend of John and Annie Bidwell, the founders of my town. Their friendship started when Muir and Asa Gray (Father of American Botany) stayed at the Bidwells in 1877 and they traipsed about Mount Shasta studying wildflowers. (Annie in a corset and long dress and not a hiking boot in sight!) Asa Gray was a buddy of Charles Darwin so the conversations must have been quite lively with conservative Annie Bidwell. John Muir stayed on with the Bidwells after Gray left and later corresponded with both Annie and John separately for over 35 years. When she died, Annie deeded acres of land to the people of Chico for a park (now at 3,670 acres/nearly 11 miles in length, making it one of the largest municipal parks in the United States). John Muir, John and Annie all shared the belief that nature should be preserved for all generations to come.

But I digress...back to Muir and Scotland.

This all came about when I was digging around the net for information about the amazing island of Skye. I came across the John Muir Trust. Of course, we all know Muir founded the Sierra Club and is responsible for preserving Yosemite..., and I wondered why these Scottish people were honoring him in such a way, being so nationalistic and all. Well, duh, he's Scottish! I am also a bit ashamed to admit, but I did not realize John Muir (standing with his walking stick looking towards Half Dome with a Calif condor flying above) was on the California quarter. Apparently, the quarter is something Scottish school children know about - they even have an on-line puzzle of it. Well, I have been on a mission ever since to collect the coin in the hopes that someday I can mail them to kids in Scotland. Just two "problems" - I don't know anyone in Scotland to give them to and the darn coin is hard to find. There are 50 states and each one has a coin and then there is the old quarter. Georgia peaches, Oregon Crater Lake, Idaho bird of prey (thanks Nanci for taking me to the preserve), Kansas buffalo, South Dakota Mt. Rushmore....abound. The California quarter is as elusive as the condor itself. Rolls of the quarter are only available from the banks when it is first minted. So, I have two rolls that I continue to swap each week for fresh rolls when I do the office banking. I have found only 4 coins so far, and one was on the floor of my son's room. No worries. I'll find them when I find them.

Lord, three blogs in a row!!! Kids at their dad's so computer is mine, an early long walk with the pooch in the wind and light drizzle, and top it off with PBS's Globe Trekker with Megan in Scotland makes for a grand day so far.

snippits

When she was named, two songs played in my mind. The first, from one of the greatest albums of all times. I pulled the song book off the shelf and sang it one more time, all 16 verses. Like visiting with an old friend from a lifetime ago.

Lily was a princess
She was fair skinned and precious as a child
She did whatever she had to do
She had that certain flash every time she smiled
She'd come away from a broken home
Had lots of strange affairs
With men in every walk of life
Which took her everywhere
But she'd never met anyone
Quite like the Jack of Hearts
(Lily, Rosemary and the Jack of Hearts by Bob Dylan, From Every Stage Joan Baez 1977)

Me and my best friend Lillian
And her blue tick hound dog Gideon
Sittin on the front porch cooling in the shade
Singin every song the radio played
Waitin for the Alabama sun to go down
Two red dirt girls in a red dirt town
Me and Lillian
Just across the line and a little southeast of Meridian
(Red Dirt Girl by Emmylou Harris)

I had first thought to call her Flora. I had not thought of the old song, Lily of the West, until today. :)

When I first came to Louisville, my fortune there to find
There was a maiden there from Lexington, was pleasing to my mind
Her rosy cheeks, her ruby lips like arrows pierced my breast
And the name she bore was Flora, the lily of the west
(Traditional, Irish origin)

Lily

Something just came over me. I had resisted for years and finally decided the timing was right much to the shock and disbelief of my sons (and myself). Even though I am a complete person all by myself, I do love a relationship, but only one with unconditional love and the complete knowledge my kids are a bonus, not a liability. One that sticks thru the good and the bad and does not care if I am not perfect. Not so easy to find. That's not to say I would turn away from the two legged kind if fate was kind, but I have not the energy right now to devote myself to an unknown.

Cute little Shep caught my eye but there was just no chemistry. And then there was pretty Mai Tai, a small German Shep mix some idiot never claimed. So smart and calm for a 1 year old and past the bulk of the puppy training stage. Knew 'sit' and 'down' and walked well on a leash and most important did not bother or show much interest in the shelter cats. Because she was so well behaved, she got to spend time in the shelter front office and was much loved by the staff. It takes some time to go through the adoption process and while I was there I got to name two tiny adorable kittens. Duncan and Dougie. (Duncan after my Great Great Uncle and Dougie after Dougie MacLean.) Pretty fun stuff. So I signed adoption papers, she got microchiped... and the two of us went to Pet Co (they give discount coupons to those who adopt from the shelter) and bought a bunch of doggie stuff (she picked out her toys herself) and went home. Brian was in the living room and the look on his face was pure joy when we walked through the door. I had not told a living soul of my wild hair idea to bring a dog into the family. With Tasha kitty so old at 18 I did not want to bring home a kitten as she would get pestered and deserves better. Lily (renamed by Brian as Mai Tai was just a shelter name) just sniffs Tasha and then leaves her alone. She listens well and so far has left Tasha's food and box alone. I cannot imagine who would abandon such a nice dog; she was well taken care of, shows no signs of abuse. She is so smart and willing to please and will even 'shake' her paw when asked. She sits in the back seat of the car-no pacing or acting up at all. Both boys love her and is my not so secret weapon in waking them up in the morning. She got a bath and has settled into her new home. Granted I have known men with dogs, but it's been many years since I shared my life full time with one. We have had a couple of setbacks which is expected (she thought the towels drying on the line were her play toys) but all is well. In her behalf we have had gusty winds so they must have been flapping madly. (Now, in the lovely Scottish islands they have REAL wind, the kind that blows the rain sideways (no kidding), so our gusts are not so much.) I hope the vet will have a better idea of what is her other breed. She does not have the fluffy tail and fluffy hind quarters of a Shepard - and the shedding is very minimal (thankfully). Memo to self - take photos.

Bringing her home meant I had to finally get off my butt and fix the fences and gate and I am quite satisfied with my carpenter skills. We had a very early hot spell (in the high 90s, maybe broke 100! Yuck.) so it was a sweaty job but now it is done. There are a couple more boards I need to replace in due time as the cedar is rotten out in spots. I am sure the fence on the north side will fall down next winter so I am not wanting to put too much money into boards. The south fence fell down this past winter and my neighbor and I shared the cost in a new one. Thankfully, my insurance paid for the bulk of it. I saved a couple of unused kick board which came in handy!

In just a few years the boys will be gone and if I was going to get a dog, it would have to be now. They play with her and wear her out. She is so much fun to have around and I am sure my blogs will contain some news of her doings from time to time.

Connected

Today was the last commitment Saturday for awhile! The ever growing weeds can now be pulled......

I guess I should have named my blog “Ode to the Hebrides” or something along those lines. But since music is my life long passion, a lyrical theme won out (at least for now).

For a while, I have immersed myself in researching the Hebrides through books, music, photographs and the internet (my book collection and research binder keeps growing). My head has been full of bits and pieces about the Gaelic people, past and present. I am afraid family and friends are just humoring me when I start in with, for example "did you know, in South Uist they discovered these really ancient mummies......" They are in for a long haul, as sharing what I am learning is part of the fun.

When I started this journey, I had no idea what I would find. I never imagined how invested I would feel.

I started looking at the past, but it is the present that is at the forefront. The outer islands are at a crucial crossroad. How do they balance maintain/preserve their culture and embrace the change needed to survive? The issues are varied and complex. Their young surf the world wide net and look to futures beyond fishing, crofting, micro-businesses,...of their parents and grandparents. Young women seek equality and a means for independence. The young people leave for opportunities simply not available on the islands, and in come the outsiders, looking for a place to retire. The outsiders (mainland Scots, English...) do not always understand the deep relationship the natives have with the land, or the customs so much a part of their lives. For hundreds of years they survived a harsh land. They did it as a family community with laughter and music and I think they did it well. The Gales do not get the respect they so deserve. Any change has to come from within and needs to be addressed now. Our world is a much different place, more so than in any other time in recent history. Along with economic concerns they face finding solutions to the environmental issues. Communities have come together to purchase and preserve large land grants. Small scale wind turbines dot the landscape, instead of massive turbine fields, which allows the multitude of birds to continue to flourish. The issues go on and on - there are no easy answers.

There is so much to write, which I will attempt at another time. But I have to mention the language- so amazing and so very mysterious. It is the hardest thing to attempt to wrap my brain about. Looks like nothing I have ever seen. I read they are not so concerned we outsiders pronounce words correctly (such kind people), as it is the meaning behind the words that matters most. Behind the name of a location, for example, is a story. The story has meaning - a history to be remembered. The connectedness is ever present. They do not simply ask you your name, but rather whom do you belong? How beautiful. So names would include daughter of so and so, grandson of so and so..... Keep in mind babies were (I guess still are) named after family members, so it is a way to keep everyone straight as to who's who (my own GG Grandfather John MacDonald shared his name with countless others; including his family lineage in his name was a simple solution). The names of towns are looking more and more familiar but I am positive I am butchering the pronunciation in my mind.

My children's first middle names are family names with a twist, which of course means there is a story behind them. They also both have my last name (which I reclaimed when their dad and I divorced) as a second middle name. It was really important that their names have meaning and a connection with their heritage. I may be a modern independent woman, but it looks like I am my ancestor's daughter after all. :)