Other: Dallicking Days Are Here Again!
Day 18 – House of Dallick
Another day off today, so the Significant Other and I did a bit of tourist-taping: we videoed what it’s like being a passenger on the other side of the road, the stone bridge and walled driveway leading to Dallick House, plus the house itself. No surprises, really, so I thought I’d mention a few things that have taken me a little by surprise:
1) Light switches are upside down here. Not sure why, but it makes just as much sense to push down to turn a light on (closing the circuit) as pushing up does;
2) Very little recycling that we could see. The mob has been making a huge amount of garbage, because the only thing that gets recycled here are the glass bottles! Combine that with lots of things coming in plastic “dome” style packaging (like we do with pastries, only with roasts as well) and the volume of trash skyrockets. Where they put it all on this tiny island, I have no idea;
3) Teeny, tiny fridges & freezers. Fine if you want to go shopping every couple of days, I guess, but we’re using six fridges here;
4) Tremendously polite speed traps. There’s always a big sign visible when a Gatso (speed camera) is coming up, and the cameras themselves are bright yellow and take a picture of the back of your car, so there’s lots of time to slow down. Likewise, when you enter a lower speed zone (a town, for instance), you’ll see a sign with the new limit above 3 bars (\\\), then a bit later the limit over 2 bars(\\), then one (\), then the limit itself. Very sporting, I think. Basically, if you’re too stupid to notice all the signs, then you deserve the ticket you get;
5) Stoplights warning you that the light is about to turn green. The lights go from green (go) to green and yellow (caution) to red (stop); then they turn to red and yellow before going green again. Not too sure what red and yellow together is supposed to mean, but for practical purposes, it seems to mean “Time to wake up, now”;
6) Skeleton keys. They’re everywhere over here. I’m going to experiment a little, but if I can open a Weiser with a ball point, these should be a snap.
Day 19 – Dallicking the Time Away
Quiet day, even with all the knitters home. Drove two folks out so they could visit a long-lost type relative, and they brought back a whisky tip. I can live with that.
The SO made steak and kidney pie today. Now, don’t get me wrong, she’s a marvellous cook (no, NOT chef: unless someone is actually French, never trust anyone who calls themselves a chef) but even she can’t make kidneys palatable. Maybe ground up with some heart, barley, and lots of black pepper and stuffed in a sheep’s stomach… Dessert was a chocolate hazelnut concoction called “Monk in Robes”, but given its appearance she wanted to call it “Black Haggis” because it sounded less cutsey. I think I convinced her that a far more intimidating name would be: “Well… it looks like haggis…”
The Three-Day Novel Contest is now open for registration. Seek it out, and enter if you dare!
Day 20 – Lickdal Shoue
Finally took a shower!
Not as bad as that sounds, actually; it’s just that everyone here uses tubs instead. Makes sense, as plumbing after a stone house is built is awkward at best.
The ducklings went off to two more castles (Scone and Glamis), so the SO and I got to have some more sex. For all those who say that a delay makes sex better for them, BITE ME! We may not have sex every day at home, but we damn well want the option!
A bit more video of the property, and of the local German Shepherd (Bernard) who came with us on a walk by the river and was fascinated by rocks, and of a semi-tame pheasant I’ve named Rochester who waits outside the kitchen window for scraps. I figure he’s emergency rations, though it’s not like the birds would be a difficult hunt anyways.
Every postcard we’ve sent home cost 50p in postage alone, so I think we’re at about $60 Canadian into them by now. And there’s still London to go!
I’ve grown oddly attached to the tv show “deal or no deal”, and I think I know why: it’s all about the numbers for me, and I want to see what the banker character offers. I could give a rat’s ass about the contestants themselves, though.