Things Go Moo In The Night…

To my fellow Gregorian Chant students: Here’s my attempt at translating the text that we’re using in the Gregorian Chant class: (mistakes guaranteed!)

Pater noster qui es in coelis,
sanctificetur nomen tuum;
adveniat regnum tuum,
fiat voluntas tua,
sicut  in coelo et in terra.
Panem nostrum quotidianum da nobis hodie,
et dimitte nobis debita nostra,
sicut et nos dimittimus debitoribus nostris.
et ne nos inducas in tentationem
sed libera nos a malo. Amen.

PATER  NOSTER,   QUI  ES  IN  CHAELIS:

Father    our          who   is   in     Heaven

SANCTIFICETUR       NOMEN  TUUM:

may (it) be hallowed    name    your

ADVENIAT   REGNUM  TUUM:

let it come    reign        your

FIAT            VOLUTAS   TUA,   SICUT IN

let it be done     will       your,    as       in

CAELO,  ET  IN  TERRA.    PANEM     NOSTRUM

heaven   and in    Earth.      Bread        our

QUOTIDIANUM         DA    NOBIS  HODIE:

of each day                give   to us     today

ET   DIMITTE  NOBIS  DEBITA  NOSTRA,

and  forgive     us       offences  our,

SICUT  ET    NOS  DIMITTIMUS

as       also   we     forgive

DEBITORIBUS         NOSTRIS;   

those who offend     us

ET   NE         NOS  INDUCAS  IN  TENTATIONEM;

and   do not     us      lead        in   temptation;

SED     LIBERA     NOS    A    MALO

but      liberate       us      from  evil.

English:

Our Father, who art in heaven,
hallowed be thy name;
thy kingdom come,
thy will be done,
on earth as it is in heaven.
Give us this day, our daily bread,
and forgive us our trespasses
as we forgive those who trespass against us.
And lead us not into temptation,
but deliver us from evil. Amen.

Gloria Patri, et Filio, et Spiritui Sancto. Sicut erat in prencipio, et nunc, et semper, et in saecula saeculorum. Amen

Gloria ~ Glory
Patri ~ Father
et Filio ~ and Son
et Spiritui Sancto ~ and Spirit Sanctified
Sicut ~ as
erat in ~ it was in
prencipio ~ beginning
et nunc ~ and now
et semper ~ and always/forever
et in saecula saeculorum ~ to age of ages

English:
Glory to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit. As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end. Amen.

Confiteor Deo omnipotenti, beatæ Mariæ semper Virgini, beato Michaeli Archangelo, beato Ioanni Baptistæ, sanctis Apostolis Petro et Paulo, omnibus Sanctis, et vobis, fratres: quia peccavi nimis cogitatione, verbo et opere: mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa. Ideo precor beatam Mariam semper Virginem, beatum Michaelem Archangelum, beatum Ioannem Baptistam, sanctos Apostolos Petrum et Paulum, omnes Sanctos, et vos, fratres, orare pro me ad Dominum Deum nostrum.

Confiteor Deo omnipotenti,

I confess    God  Omnipotent

beatæ   Mariæ  semper    Virgini,

blessed  Mary  always/ever Virgin,

beato  Michaeli  Archangelo,

blessed  Michael  Archangel,

beato   Ioanni    Baptistæ,

blessed John the Baptist

sanctis  Apostolis Petro et  Paulo,

sanctified Apostles Peter and Paul

omnibus         Sanctis,

all (those who are)  Sanctified,

et  vobis,

and you

fratres:  quia  peccavi  nimis   cogitatione,

brothers: that  sinned    greatly   (in my) thoughts 

verbo              et      opere:

(in my) words    and    work:

mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima   culpa.

my fault,     my fault,     my    great       fault

Ideo           precor     beatam

Therefore I  beseech   blessed

Mariam    semper    Virginem,

Mary        always       Virgin

beatum Michaelem Archangelum,

blessed  Michael     Archangel,

beatum Ioannem Baptistam,

blessed  John   (the) Baptist

sanctos    Apostolos  Petrum et   Paulum,

sanctified Apostles    Peter      and   Paul

omnes                   Sanctos,

all (those who are)   Sanctified,

et     vos,     fratres,

and  you,   brothers,

orare   pro   me  ad    Dominum   Deum   nostrum

pray   for    me   to    (the) Lord         God     our. 

I confess to Almighty God, to blessed Mary ever Virgin, to blessed Michael the Archangel, to blessed John the Baptist, to the holy Apostles Peter and Paul, to all the Saints, and to you brethren, that I have sinned exceedingly, in thought, word and deed: through my fault, through my fault, through my most grievous fault. Therefore I beseech blessed Mary ever Virgin, blessed Michael the Archangel, blessed John the Baptist, the holy Apostles Peter and Paul, all the Saints, and you brethren, to pray to the Lord our God for me.

Misereatur nostri omnipotens Deus, et, dimissis peccatis nostris, perducat nos ad vitam aeternam.

Have mercy us omnipotent God, and dismiss sins our, lead us to life eternal.

Indulgentiam, absolutionem, et remissionem peccatorum nostrum tribuat nobis omnipotens et misericors Dominus.

Forgive, absolve, and pardon sins our (tribuat??) us omnipotent and merciful Lord.

I can’t for the life of me figure out the meaning of tribuant and how it fits in with this sentence…

Tribuo -ere - ui - utum: give, grant, bestow

Forgive, absolve, and pardon sins our (give, grant, bestow) us omnipotent and merciful Lord.

I’m so not a Latin scholar… (is scholar even spelled right?!) Cheers ya’ll!

Tags: Gregorian Chant

Elspeth had her first laugh today ~ and we managed to catch it on video! There she was just cracking up laughing and having herself a good ol’ time with daddy.

This morning Elspeth and I went out for a walk. The little bambina lay there buried under a thick winter suit looking mildly stunned as well as curious as I pushed the pram along the road. We were observed by ponies and sheep as we made our way down the road to the main road that leads either to Dounby or Evie. Fortified with ibuprophen I decided to take a longer walk today and headed down one of the other small twisty roads that affords a magnificent view of the island in every direction - including the Hills of Hoy.

Our little toonship is really springing to life! Several new hooses have been built since I arrived almost three years ago. When we drive away at night and I look back I can see darkness but also many lights from many houses containing our many neighbors. It’s a lovely sight to behold because even “the country” needs people ~ without people it would be so dull and boring and lifeless. I love how our hooses are close enough to be seen but far enough away that you can’t hear everything that’s going on when your inside of your own house. That’s one of the irritating things about living in close quarters in towns. If your neighbors are obnoxious and rude all night long then you can’t get any peace!

But I like towns as much as I like the country and I like cities as much as I like towns and country… as long as I don’t have to live in a dive apartment with paper-thin walls and jerk neighbors that stare in baffled wonderment when you finally blow your top and scream at them CAN YOU PLEASE TURN YOUR MUSIC DOWN IT’S THREE IN THE MORNING YOU IGNORANT MORONS!! WTH?? WHERE YOU RAISED BY WOLVES? No wait, never mind - WOLVES HAVE FAR BETTER MANNERS THEN YOU IDIOTS!! 

Thankfully I don’t have to deal with that any more. Instead, I can just kick back and enjoy all of the people that dot this island with their grey houses and colorful cars and varied backgrounds.

I like people. I love people in fact! I think that people are grand and I am by no means one of those “people are a cancer on the earth” types. I love nothing more then to see development taking place and new people arriving in a place. Life is dynamic ~ everything changes: culture, language, landscape. Trying to “preserve” a place so that it resembles a romantic snapshot of some bygone time is a total waste of time, energy, and emotion. These things could be spent on something far more rewarding. Like world peace and poverty.

Sure: In all things there should be balance and so humanity cannot just wipe out the wilderness around the globe but at the same time nature should never be placed above the value of a human being. I get so tired of hearing about how people and development are The Big Bad when it comes to Orkney… how the increasing presence of humanity on these islands is some kind of blight on the landscape that needs to be either removed or prevented from spreading like a nasty rash.  

Thanks, folks. I love you too! But note how these objections always arise from those who are already here and already have their little slice of heaven?

I hold a totally different view when I’m out for a stroll with Elspeth in her pram and my eyes focus on the beautiful landscape and the beautiful humanity all around us. The rolling farm fields, the peat reek issuing from a lum, the distant shimmer of water, the flash of red as a car zips past… all of it is lovely, most especially my fellow human beings. I am glad that like me, they are here in this blessed place.

I’m going to raise Elspeth to love and honor God’s creation ~ and not just that part of creation that makes up “nature” but also man kind. (Balance!) We’ll admire the birds, enjoy the plant life and appreciate our fellow human beings. And when another house goes up we’ll cheer rather then groan in selfish disapointment. (”Oh dear, someome else dares to be here where I am!”)

While living in Alaska I could never understand the mindset of those who came up, bought land, built a cabin and then did everything they could to prevent anyone else from enjoying the same privlige.

I was just as baffled by the Alaskans that wanted nothing more then to raise their families as far away from other human beings as possible. Sometimes even 100 miles away! I found that to be very insulting. The message this sent out to the world sounded something like: “Other people suck. We’re so special we need to stay away from all those others so they don’t taint us!”  

As the two of us enjoyed the fresh air and the sound of birds singing I could see other people out and about, some walking, some working, some driving cars. One lone man walked his fence line with a delighted collie bouncing at his heels. A bus went by and a flock of buckoos pecked away at the cold ground while I stood and watched until they became nervous and bolted for cover. (Was it my breath?!) All around me were old abandoned houses, new houses, old fixed-up houses… such a mix of old and new, vivid proof of the fact that life is dynamic and we can never lock a place into one set time no matter how much we try and achieve that goal. We can fight it but it keeps going with or without us! The best that we can do is sit and enjoy the tales of our Elders and then go and live life and embrace the change that comes with each passing day.

And I’m writing about the good kinds of changes, the kind that actually does something to make the world a better place ~ not the shallow pop-culture fads that come and go in a matter of months.

If we really do want to try and preserve certain portions of a culture while at the same time accepting that change will always take place… then turn off the television and limit the intake of Hollywood movies. These two things are the #1 cause of cookie-cutter globalization. I’ve seen this with my own eyes all over the world.

I love people and I’m glad that so many people are here in Orkney and will be on their way to Orkney all through the future years. I’m glad that they will be able to share this place and enjoy these islands as much as I do myself. I do not fear development ~ especially the kind that will allow people to earn a living and remain in Orkney. We have all manner of organizations dedicated to basically driving humanity away from Orkney which is a shame because no matter how hard they try to stop progression, people will always arrive. Why not use that same energy and talent in a way that celebrates our neighbors, present and future,  instead of trying to drive them away?

Here’s to all of you that live here in Orkney! It’s great to have you along for the adventure!!

Social gatherings can still be rather awkward for me as I’m still very Crow in my manner of speaking. The thing is, it’s considered rude to just up and get to the point: you’re telling your listener, “I don’t have much time for you so here’s the deal, now get lost.”

So when I speak it’s usually in such a way that the “point” is at the center of an ever-tightening spiral of talk. The talking tells the listener that I am enjoying their company so much, I wish to remain in their presence for a while yet. Also, a speaker is appreciated for the way that they can work a story so that it’s interesting and colourful ~ not embellished of full of lies, mind, but interesting and multi-dimensional.

And so, “succinct” is not my middle name when I get yapping. Meanwhile my listener’s eyes begin to glaze over… and the rude ones lose patience and snap, “For God SAKE! Won’t you get to the point?!” (Though I haven’t experienced such blatant rudeness in Britain. Yet.)

Culture clash is always a hoot.

So, instead of just saying, “Chant class was awesome!” here’s my spiral:

When we first visited Pluscarden Abbey so that I could speak with the Oblate Master about becoming an Oblate, we were exposed to Gregorian Chant live ~ right there in the stone choir, echoing off of the high walls and flowing into our astonished ears. My first thought was, God, yer awesome! My second thought was… I’ve got to learn how to do this!!  I was going to become a Benedictine Oblate after all!

But how do you learn Gregorian Chant when you are a housewife in Orkney?? Seeing as how I was facing impossible odds, I prayed. I asked God to find a way to help me to learn Gregorian Chant without me having to abandon my duties at home in order to relocate for weeks on end to some class far off in Rome or France.

Fast forward about two years… A friend comes up to me after Mass and tells me, “I’m going to be teaching a Gregorian Chant class in January.”

YES!!! Prayer. Answered.

During our last visit to Pluscarden in June I dragged myself out of bed at 4:15am, braved the dark and terrifying walk past the cemetery and joined the monks for prayer time. One of the brothers has very kindly written down all of the psalms that they would be chanting and I had located them in my copy of Psautier Monastique the night before. As I sat there on the hard wooden pew singing along to the best of my ability, my tongue stumbling over the longer Latin words… well, suffice it to say that “Oh God!” doesn’t even begin to describe it!

After Mass I met with Dom B~~~~ and he expressed regret over having not had time to properly visit with me. But we both agreed that joinging together during prayers had been THE ultimate “visit” of all! What better way to spend time together then during the chanting worship of God?

As we left the abbey I once again prayed to God and begged Him to help me learn Gregorian Chant so that I could fully participate as an Oblate whenever we visited Pluscarden.

And yesterday afternoon I began the first of six Chant classes! I was so excited as I waited for the 24th to arrive and then I joined my good friend F~~~ and off we went to Appies Teahouse where we had a fantastic lunch and then… twenty people arrived for the class! Wow.

I knew two things right off: my background in music would only be a very small help as I learned this totally new way of singing and that my dyslexia would do everything that it could to make the entire experience as difficult as possible. Our first lesson was that of learning about emphasisizing the proper syllable of Latin words. We had to take our pencils and mark where we felt the inflection should take place… but the letters danced and bunched up so much I soon gave up the game and laughed.

When it came time to actually chant I was on cloud nine! I had the usual trouble with looking at the longer words so I just skipped over them. My solution is to memorize how the long words sound and then I just say the sound without reading the words. For example: Exsultabunt… Right. The letters are having themselves a little Harvest Home dance as I type hahaha!

I decided to chant low because I haven’t warmed up my voice since the Saint Magnus Choir ~ which I had to quit at the last minute when my pregnancy made me fainty in the slightest heat. OOoOOOoooOooo it was so wonderful to finally have the mysteries of Gregorian Chant unfolding before us! I daydreamed about being back in the stone chapel of Pluscarden abbey chanting away with the monks… and chanting here in my own home. Oh, and Elspeth will most certainly not only learn Latin but also Chant as well!!

Time to get ready for Mass. Hmmm… I’ll have to start praying to God to convince B~~~~~ to teach an advanced level Chant class after this one ends!!

Over the past week Elspeth has discovered the difference between Mummy Is Here with Me and Mummy Is GONE!(OMG WhatAmIGoingToDO?!)

Today she has learned a new, wonderous thing: Mummy Isn’t Looking At Me!! I have her beside me in her pram and she’s letting out little wails of misery and every time I look over at those big blue eyes she becomes silent and I roar with laughter. I just can’t take it! She’s so CUTE!! “WWWWWAAAAAHHH….oh, mom’s looking now. Cool.”

She’s asking for her swing. How do I know this? You’d be amazed by how well these mini-humans can communicate. So I’ve stuck her in her swing and she’s grumbling about how much of a slacker I am and why did it take me so long to catch on?? (Parents! **Sigh** The things I have to put up with around here.)

I love how she hyperventilates just before blowing up: hethethethet…WAAAAH!!!

It’s like she’s pumping up a tank before letting off all the pressure! I’m a bad mom: I can’t help but crack up laughing when she’s expressing her frustration with life.

Husband found natural herbal baby wipes at the same place he buys our biodegradable nappies. They have lavender and tea tree oil etc and so far so good.

Our new Angus bull is a lovely boy! I had a look at him this morning after helping husband shift sheep. (Elspeth and I waited in the car until they crested the hill and then I hopped out and kept them from wandering.) The new bull is a more traditional-looking Angus boy. He’s quite nervous about his new home and new humans but nice and quiet. While giving husband a sniff-down with his huge muzzle he shot a fountain of bull snot in my face. Thanks.

Hmmm. Can’t type more. My gallbladder is screaming again. Isn’t pregnancy great? It like… destroys everything in your body. **Sigh**

I can’t give details or names because I don’t have permission but we’ve joined a lovely earthy-crunchy play group and yesterday was Elspeth’s first time there. I really liked it even if my pelvis screamed the whole time. There were padded chairs but such an upright style makes me sit directly on my pubis and that is epicenter of the problem. I think next week I’ll have to go at 11am via Husband Taxi because I’m still in pain today. (I woke up in so much pain tears sprang to my eyes!) I won’t exactly complain when this stupid pubis symphasis nonsense finally decides to GO AWAY. (How long can it take for pity sake?!?! This is getting more then rediculous.)

I wasn’t sure how the wean would take to being plunged into such a new experience at the tender age of three months but suffice it to say, Elspeth had a grand time at playgroup yesterday. (Even if she couldn’t exactly play with anyone.) It would seem that my choice of “Little Owl” for her name was spot on: all that I could see of my little wean was an enormous pair of eyeballs staring at everything in sight!

The ha was cold and I stupidly forgot Elspeth’s coat. I laid it beside her car seat and then forgot to pick it up when I left the house. So I wrapped her like a burrito in a lovely pink crocheted blanket sent by my childhood friend K~~~ back home in Massachusetts. And there she sat on my lap, all eyes!

I know when Elspeth is having a good time because she goes absolutely silent and STARES and does this for quite some time. Ocassionaly she lets out a little coo but other then that, she’s nowhere near as chatty as she is back home. Then once she’s had her fill of staring she freaks out. Turn it off, mom!!  I quickly make a little wigwam out of her patchwork quilt and Big Eyeballs soon conks out cold and lies there snoozing away while processing everything she just absorbed.

When I’m around adults I’m loud and chatty ~ I could easily talk the hind legs off a donkey. Get me on the phone and you’re doomed ~ unless you’re bold enough to let me know you have to go. (I don’t mind!) But put me with kids and a sudden and deep stillness enters my soul and all chatter comes to a halt. There’s just something about kids that makes me so relaxed and tranquil. The whole world around me suddenly becomes a blur and the child becomes my focus. It’s almost as if a lovely primal music radiates outward from children and I can’t help but become still so that I can listen to the sacred strains of God’s magnificent creation. A little eternal soul… so perfect in every way… containing so much hope for the future… and yet so dependent on us for direction and counsel. The opportunity for making mistakes is legion and the punishment worse then a millstone about the neck while sinking into the sea.

It’s daunting as much as it is awe-some.

I used to babysit all the time when I was a kid and I loved nothing more then to take the children out on nature walks where we observed the beautiful world around us. Without hardly speaking a word. That’s just the way I am with kids but sadly people do tend to misunderstand. I’ve lost count of the times I’ve heard, “You don’t like kids!” because I fail to get caught up in conversation with a chatty youngster or I fail to perform in whatever other preconceived  way that is expected of adults caught in the eternal glow of a child’s sacred presence. **Shrug** That’s just not me. Sorry. As long as their parents don’t make an issue out of it, the kids soon pick up on my contemplative nature and they are totally cool with it. After all, even little gifts from God need silence now and then.

Hopefully belonging to an alternative playgroup, with its focus on developing security and individuality in children by not riding their backs, will allow me to be my natural self without pressure to perform.

From what I observed around me yesterday I have a feeling everything is going to be wonderful. I already can’t wait to go back and, judging from the size of Elpseth’s eyeballs, I think she won’t mind another visit!

 I recently joined a group of women from all over the world that have come together into The Sisterhood of the Traveling Hijab. They voted on a variety of beautiful headscarves and chose the one that they liked best.

Now the hijab scarf is going to begin its journey around the globe starting in America. I’m not sure if it’s heading East or West past America but eventually the hijab scarf will arrive here in Orkney!

This is going to be fun! 

Each of us will have the hijab scarf for a week and we’re to post pictures and write about our experiences with the hijab in its accompanying scrap book. Then we send the hijab on its way to the next woman somewhere else in the world.

Thus far the hjab scarf has been present in Washington D.C. at the inauguration of President Obama ~ how’s that for a cool start?!

I’m going to have to come up with some unique places to visit (and unique things to do) here in Orkney when it’s my turn to wear the hijab scarf!

It all started at the refreshing hour of 6:30am when Elspeth awoke with her usual aplomb… “WAAaaAAAAaaAAAAaaaAAA!”

But you know what? It was 6:30. Not 3:30. Not 2:45. Six-three-oh. I was not about to complain. (the last time I felt this greatful to sleep until 6:30 was back in the military…)

I had an ultra sound appointment in toon. Like usual everything always starts out going great when we have plans to go tae toon. I plan ahead, get things packed, lay out my clothes… then I farf around drinking coffee and working on my book(s) because there’s at least an hour of farf time available before I have to get myself and the baby ready.

Only my farfing is no longer as serene as it used to be. Elspeth has discovered her lungs and she loves nothing more then to use them. For hours on end. I’m telling you!!! Parents are one big cosmic joke for God. He created babies so helpless and loud simply for the sheer enjoyment of watching mothers and fathers being driven to near insanity ~ via the scream of a baby. It’s pitch, quality, tone…volume… are all designed to be inescapable. Elspeth began her howling in ernest and I did everything: fed her, changed the nappy, cuddled her, rocked her, put her here and there buuuuuut nothing helped. She was just In A Mood.

So I stuck her in her pram in the kitchen, shut the door and cranked Snow Patrol up to about #16 on the volume control.

I could still hear her. Screaming. AllTheWayInTheOtherRoomOverTheMusicAndThroughAClosedDoor.

Giving up on a peaceful moment of farf time, I went back into the kitchen (like a good slave) and proceeded to try and feed the baby. It was 9:30 now and we had to be oot o’ the hoose by 10:50. I figured I had enough time so I lowered the nipple into that screeching mouth and….

She didn’t want it. But wait, yes she did. Nah, changed her mind. No wait, she wants it. NOW! Nah, never mind. HEY! MILK!! No, on second thought, nah. YES! No. Get that thing away from me! HEY! I want! I want!…

Just as I was reaching for the whiskey bottle so I could pour myself a wee dram, she took the milk and sooked away.

By the time baby had her fill I was begining to sweat. Time was no longer on my side and I still had to tame my wild hair, eat, brush my teeth, get dressed, pack the car…

I ran upstairs and the moment my hand clasped my toothbrush, Elspeth began to wail. And she kept wailing all through my morning ablutions. By the time I had finally managed to wrangle my hair into a pony tail… I was beginning to twitch. So I ran downstairs (half dressed) and stuck the bottle back in the child’s mouth. (How much food can a mini-human that size (and not even mobile yet!)  possibly consume for God’s sake?!?!?!) (Seriosly!!)

Sensing my urgency Elspeth decided to sook…as…slowly…as…possoble. It took her 20 minutes. Twenty minutes, folks! I stood there for twenty minutes while she sooked an entire (ready for this?) 30mils. Thirty. Whole. Mils.

SoooooOOooooOOooo IRanUpstairsAndThrewOnMyClothesAndCameBackDownstairs so I could pack the car. Walking outside, my red mary janes hit the ice (?!) and I went sliding across the ground and almost landed on my head. Looking around I realized it had snowed during the night. Fancy that! And here’s me without a pair of boots to my name. This is because I live in The Land Of Small And Scrawny Feet. I have yet to find one shoe in my size in Britain. Let alone boots. Or socks for that matter. (And when I hunted down size 11 extra wide boots at LL Bean they were sold out.) (Of course. Why wouldn’t they be sold out when I need boots?) (And they won’t be back in stock until March. March!! Who the devil needs winter boots in March?!?!) (Ok, maybe the Eskimos do back home in Alaska…)

Speaking of Alaska, I managed to stay upright while packing the car by doing the Alaskan Shuffle. Husband finally finished getting ready and he packed the baby in the car and we were ready to go when both of us realized that we had never folded the new pram. So we stood there kinda frozen with that NowWhattaWeDo?! look on our faces until I had an epiphany. “Grab the old pram and let’s go!”

Husband wrestled the other pram into the back of the car and we hopped in only to find ourselves trapped in that tiny space with a screaming baby. (She had never stopped.) Oh, and did I mention the ice on the windshield?

And we were already running late.

While I sat in the passenger seat stuffing shredded wheat down my throat while twitching from the relentless baby screams I enjoyed the show of watching husband splash bucket after bucket of warm water on the thick layer of ice.

It wasn’t going anywhere. Neener neener!

The Alaskan in me knew that the best way to get ice off of a windshield was… I rolled down the window and handed over a cassette tape cover. (It works!!) In moments the ice was gone and we were well on our way. Late of course! But is that anything new?

Only to discover that the roads were covered with ice. And we don’t have snow tires here aboots.

So just picture this ice-covered minivan creeping along ice-covered roads accompanied by the deafening roar of a baby in the backseat and two twitching parents. (My friend asked me the other day, “What do you and your husband do in the evenings?” I laughed. “We sit in the livingroom and drool on ourselves as we recover from the baby…”)

We finally arrived at the hospital where husband kept a tight grip on my hand as we shuffled across more ice and then found ourselves facing off with the most insane layout of buildings known to mankind. Seriously, people!! Haven’t you hard of Ye Old Rectangle Hosptial Building??? Functional. Easy to navigate. Takes up less groudn space.

Balfour hospital is a fine place ~ but it resembles a drunk octopus!! Finding your way around… well, suffice it to say that a drunk octopus would have better luck.

We finally arrived at the ultra sound department where I scooted up to the desk while husband ducked into the waiting room before Elspeth caught her breath for the next round of screaming. “Hi.” I said to the reception ladies. “I have an appointement… uh… five minutes ago.”

I ajourned to the waiting room where Elspeth perked up all bright-eyed and adorable, the picture of a perfectly content little angel. (this is her favourite rouse while in public. The I have no idea why mom and dad look like death warmed over…) I wandered over to the water cooler and when I pulled down on a plastic cup it came along with six of its companions. I knew then that the day was only going to get more insane.

Thankfully they still took me in. I told husband to keep the baby with him in case she decided to go mental. The ultra sound scan revealed that I had had breakfast when I was supposed to fast. (”You had milk with your food too, huh?”)

Go figure.

Welp, seeing as how I no longer needed to fast we decided to hit up the mart for dinner. While there Elspeth started to scream so I picked her up and sat her down on my tray. She became silent, eyes wide with fascination, as she was scooted along the food line like a chubby queen on her royal divan.

By the time we finished eating our dinner both husband and I felt like we were going to die. So sad to say, we had to bypass the ladies at BF as we rolled out of town and headed back to the farm.

It was better that way though because Elspeth had returned to utilizing her lungs to express her delight with life.

And, as I sit here typing at 10:15pm, she’s up in her basket howling away…

2 cute 4 U

Baby niece sez:

U know that

U can’t wait to spend

$5,000

2 come visit me!

Hoo boy…

 I’ve come to learn that going tae toon is such a circus when you live on a farm!!

You try to get up early and get going, ya know? But noooooo, that’s when a coo decides she’s going to give birth. Backwards.

So there’s Erlend in his nice clothes under a boiler suit out in the byre trying to haul a backwards calf out of a furious cow while I’m in the house taking off the six windprool layers necessary to keep from contracting hypothermia upon walking out of the door. (And I thought I was tough coming from Alaska…) Oh, and let’s not forget the sunbonnet that I use in a mad attempt at keeping my hair from whipping my eyes out of my head because Orkney is slightly breezy.

Erlend finally makes it in but now he has to change because he stinks like cow so I sit on the sofa and read a three-week old copy of The Orcadian while he’s upstairs. We finally get to the car, get the baby strapped in, get ourselves organized only to realize that the windshield is covered in a thick layer of ice.

Back to the hoose we go to throw hot water on the car so we can see… and then we finally get going and we’re starting down the road just in time to see a flock of our fine texel-cross sheep heading towards Dounby. (SomeoneShootUsNow!)

There we are in our fine “goin tae toon” clothes chasing sheep in the gale-force winds, the now-muddy hem of my dress flying up about level with my head so the entire neighborhood can ogle my undergarments. We finally get the beasties back in the field and hop in the car. About halfway to Finstoon Erlend realizes he forgot his wallet…

Back at the hoose I’m like, well geez! I might as well pee while we’re here! So off I go to the cludgy only to find myself stuck without toilet paper while howling at the top of my lungs for Erlend to rescue me (but he’s outside catching an escaped calf…)

By the time we’re heading out of the driveway it’s been six hours since our estimated time of departure and we arrive in Kirkwall only to spend another hour looking for a parking spot. This is precisely when Elspeth decides to fill her nappy and screech for milk.

I’m still kinda crippled so Erlend folds himself in half in the back seat where he somehow manages to change the baby while I’m mixing formula and Elspeth is screaming at the tops of her small but incredibly powerful lungs. (She’s always convinced that she’s going to starve to death right then and there…)

Silence decends upon the interior of the car as soon as the bottle nipple and Elspeth’s mooth meet up together. She sooks but refuses to burp so we’re there for half an hour coaxing reluctant belches from our little bambina ~ and then she gleefully decorates my fine “goin tae toon” clothes with a fragrant spray of baby vomit.

We bundle the baby up and somehow manage to wrange the pram out of the boot of the van while facing wind that whips at us from six different directions. That’s when both of us realizes we can’t remember how to get it so that the pram wheels unfold…

We wrack our brains for fifteen minutes while Elspeth explains (at the tops of her small but powerful lungs) to us why we are a pair of slackers that cant find our backsides with both hands on a calm sunny day… Erlend finally solves the pram mystery and we stick the baby inside and spend the better part of ten minutes fighting to get the blanket over her bronco-bucking little frame. Then out comes the pram cover thingy with its velcro and snaps (in gale-force winds) and the rain cover that delights in flying halfway across the parking lot before Erlend manages to catch it.

Halfway to the bank we realize we forgot the diaper bag…

By the time we go back to the car and get back to the bank and then move to the next place on our list Elspeth is screaming for another feed and I have to pee. Of course the only bathroom is six streets away… And by now I’m starting to get weak from hunger so we hunt down a cafe where I can both relieve my bladder and scarf down some food while Erlend gives the baby her sooks.

It’s all good though! We still have an hour left before everything closes! But then Erlend’s mobile rings and he answers it only to be told that the stots got oot and they were last seen heading up the peat hill road…

Baby sez

If I look cute enough

maybe U give me

more milk