On the Stairs

Now imagine: You've had a shit day. Your best friends have become, in your mind, a dose of vinegar and you don't relish spending any more time with them. However, because they're your friends you force yourself to do so. Then this scene shows up. Any "forcing" that needed to be done falls to the floor as you bask in the velvet-clad glow of three of your most precious gifts in the world. These three ladies, Marita Beth, Kelly & Denise somehow made the day ok, just by being where they were when they were. My goddess how could it be any better. Dressed in beautiful, long velvet dresses they sit gathered together on the rich red carpet of our lodging and look as though they intend to solve all the world's problems with a glance. My day suddenly got better. Wastrel On! (Listening To: Gershwin: Rhapsody in Blue, Concerto in F by the Cincinnati Pops)

Footbridge to nowhere

Whilst out roaming the woods behind New Milne, I stumbled, almost literally onto this footbridge. The bridge goes nowhere. It's just there. I s'pose at one time it had to go from somewhere to somewhere, but as you can see it's not in the best of shape. Being alone in this area and having told noone I was headed there, I certainly didn't feel like trying my luck on it. Just what I needed in my beleagured state of mind was to fall through a dilapidated wooden bridge into a sluice pond. Right. Wastrel On! (Listening to: Disco Inferno by the Tramps)

Sluice

The old mill house, in the woods behind New Milne House was right next door to this beautiful little waterfall. I say little, but the photo is actually quite deceiving. The sluice gate was (rusted) open & the water was rushing through in vast volumes and down a 20-25 foot sluice to dump into this receiving pool. The water then babbled it's way through the woods to run down the side yard of New Milne. Majestic and just what I needed to take my mind off the days events. It was therapeutic in a naturalistic way. When you are feeling blue, go listen to the sound of and watch the beauty of a waterfall. Wastrel On! (Listening To: God, Pt. 2 by U2)

Back at New Milne

A full day at Stirling and we return to New Milne. We have planned this evening a wonderful meal prepared by Larry Giesen with assistance from many of the rest of us. However, I'm still touchy. Miffed. Pissed off even. I, of course realize now, that it was all in my head and mostly a petulant reaction to a non-issue. However, at the time it was enough to fuck my day. So, while everyone else is helping prepare food, or gathered in the living room with glasses of wine, or sherry, or port or even Scotch, I'm wandering the grounds of New Milne. New Milne itself means, in "Auld Scots", the New Mill. And so I believe at one time or another it likely was. I also believe that this little house, which sits on the other side of a burn running through the property, may have been the Mill House workers abode. It, like the remains of the mill hidden behind the wooded wall, is delapidated and perhaps not even worth trying to repair. I wondered around this area espying many a ruin and getting quite muddy in the damp undergrowth until I was pretty sure I'd be right on time for dinner. The solace, the serenity, the constant babbling of the burn & the beer all helped get me into a better, if not entirely pleasant, mood. Wastrel On! (Listening To: Serenade Number 13 in G Major by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart)

The Portcullis Hotel

The Portcullis Pub & Hotel was originally built in 1797 as a boys school. The Portcullis stands on the site of a previous school where, it is rumoured, King James the VI of Scotland was educated. The previous building was destroyed when the school became too small for the occupants. For a short while the Argyll & Sutherland Higlanders used the location as a Military Store as it is very conveniently located between Stirling Castle and the Argyll Lodging. Beautifully renovated in the 1990's, it is now a fully operational pub, restraunt & hotel. The photo is of the bar area with 2 unknown patrons and a barmaid. You can make out the Portcullis Hotel name on the mirror just above the head of one of the patrons at the bar. Marita Beth, Ginger & myself settled into a pint or two as I blathered on about mistrust and miscommunicaton. I finally, with their help, managed to work myself out of the tizzy I'd been in was prepared to join in whatever else was going on, but not real interested in being overly social. Times change, and at the time I felt helpless and out of control. It's all better now. Wastrel On! Listening To(Into the Tower by Devotchka)

Inside the Argyll Lodging

Peurile petulance led me to wandering this maginicent town house alone. So, although I wasn't bothered by anyone, and never really had to wait for someone to move so I could take a photo, I didn't get to "share the experience" or the grandeur with anyone. There were lots of times on this trip where this was an issue. Self-imposed & self-inflicted, but an issue nonetheless real for me. This beautiful room is but one example of the fineness of the Argyll Lodging. Should you ever find yourself in Stirling, don't miss the opportunity to visit this place. It's truly marvelous. Of course, you'll have to pass by the fabulous Portcullis Restraunt & Pub on the way there...but you can always go back. Arsenal won their game last night against Reading in the Carling Cup, so another round advanced while Chelsea languishes having squandered that particular silverware hope to Wigan. Fabulous, that! Back to work, I go. Wastrel On! (Listening to: Kaiserwalzer Op. 437 by Johann Strauss as performed by an unknown orchestra)

Argyll's Lodging

Argyll's Lodging was included in the admission price to Stirling Castle. An extant 17th century town house, it sits just down the hill from Stirling Castle and is probably the finest example of a 17th century dwelling in all of Scotland. The photo is of the screen wall that protected the dwelling from the churlish street people and provided a sense of privacy and propriety. The unfortuanate placing of the steel rail detracts from the beauty of the entrance as do the large(ish) purple signs in the courtyard. Glistening on the ground of the courtyard can be seen the rain with which we had been dealing since arriving in Stirling. It was to continue for many more hours. At this point of the day, any excuse was a good excuse to get off by myself, so I essentially saw the house cum lodging by myself. When I finally emerged, it was to a gathering of my friends complaining slash worrying about my disappearance. Whatever. Wastrel On! (Listening to Riders on the Storm by The Doors)

Stirling Castle Statue

The Palace (royal residence) is strewn with statuary around its entire exterior. This particular statue faces the inner courtyard and overlooks the Great Hall. The Palace is the building currently undergoing renovation and it was closed to the public while we were there. I wonder if they will coat the outside with the same golden hue that the Great Hall received. How grand that would be. Wastrel On! (Listening To: Can't Forget You by Gloria Estefan)

Marita Beth at Stirling

Still at Stirling Castle. There's nothing overtly special about this photo or this memory except for the fact that that's my wife in the doorway. Leaning back & looking up at some architerctural feature or another. I snapped the photo quickly without her knowledge. Those are my favourite photos when I can catch the subject in the midst of some something without their knowledge. Candids. Wastrel On! (Listening To: Bedlam Boys by The Reelies)

Through the Window

Ok. Not a window really, more like a slit. Yes, it's one of those ubiquitous tourist photos that nearly every person that walks into Stirling Castle takes. However, I'm hoping that since I was at the far end of the Castle grounds on a walk that is not trod so often, that perhaps this one is a little unique. And, well frankly, it was a damn fine vantage. Sadly, I don't recall which direction I'm facing, but I believe it to be Southeast-ish. If anyone knows for sure, I'd love to edit this entry with that information. This photo, like so many taken on these dreary overcast days with a new camera, was a little grey. So, I've applied some saturation & contrast changes to it and added a 50% overlay to it. But since the colours really are that vibrant I don't feel the slightest bit guilty about modifying the image as necessary. ;-) Wastrel On! (Listening To: Fire in the Head by Emerald Rose & Personally by Karla Bonoff)

George at the Castle

Stirling Castle. You can see the view it commanded of the surrounding area. Is it any wonder that the Scots were desperate that it not fall into the hands of the English? My very good friend, George, is in this photo as the foreground to the amazing view in the background. If you ever have the pleasure of meeting George (Dr. George), you will never again find yourself a better man nor friend. A truly amazing human. Anyway, he's standing on the battlement that rings the garden just outside the foreworks of the castle. The garden lawn is inside the castle grounds & it's outer defences, but not inside the Castle itself. The Castle begins when you go through the forework gate (and past the arrow-slitted towers and murder holes) and into the Outer Close. Wastrel On! (Listening To: Miles Davis' Funeral by Morphine & New York, New York by Frank Sinatra)

Robert the Bruce

We left the Bridge of Allan brewery and headed directly to Stirling Castle. Apparently we were under some sort of schedule; I certainly felt like I was being hustled about. Anyway this pigeon-shit covered statue guards the entrance to the castle with his regal pose & humongous sword. An ancestor of mine, in some sort of round-about way, he nearly destroyed this castle in the early 1300's. Not wanting this strategically defensible castle to fall into the hands of the English (Edward Longshanks, the Hammer of the Scots), he blew chunks of it to bits with cannon. Apparently, at some point, he came to his senses, because the magnificent castle remains standing. Historic Scotland (a preservation organisation) owns the property now and have recently "completed" a HUGE renovation project that restored the Great Hall to it's original majestic glory. A true sight to behold. Wastrel On! (Listening To: If I Had My Way by Vince Gill)

The Bridge of Allan Brewery

Bridge of Allan, Scotland. Near, but not in, Edinburgh and close enough that we did this wonderful little brewery before heading into Edinburgh to visit the castle (a MUCH curtailed trip that is an entire entry of itself...if I choose to record it). Here, my wee wife had located, prior to the trip, a brewery. A brewery that was able to and interested in providing private tour for a batch of American tourists. We were treated to discourse by two delightfully knowledgeable men who taught us more in half of an hour than I had learned in several tours through several breweries in my life. It was a thoroughly enjoyable visit with some truly excellent, world-class brews. They even make, for the wee-ones and non-drinkers a wonderful variety of sodas. Their creme-de-la-crème is a masterful Scotch Ale that, sadly, wasn't available to us on this visit. However, Joseph & Kelly went back to Edinburgh as we all vacated New Milne and scattered across the isle (or back across to the U.S.) and picked up a foursome of it. They gladly shared it with Marita Beth & I when we met up in London a week later. Overall the Bridge of Allan brewery is a short, but delightful memory. Wastrel On! (Listening To: A live version of Fried Neckbones by Santana)

The Keg & Inverness Thistle Football Club

We've left Urquhart Castle and returned to Inverness via a meandering bus ride. I spy The Keg. I nipped into this unassuming little pub down a sidestreet in Inverness for a wee-heavy, while my wife was kitsch-shopping up the avenue a bit. No sooner had I purchased my half 80, then in comes my wife with a look of avid concern on her face. It seems that the proprietor of the shop up the street had warned her against the "unsavoury types" that frequented the Keg. My belief? I think the proprietor just wasn't an Inverness Thistle Football Club fan. In the upper left corner of the photo, next to a security camera, you can see a sign proudly proclaiming that this was the Inverness Thistle FC Social Club. On the look, it appears that the "Social Club" is next door, but that's not the reality. Now I don't support any particular Scottish Football team, other than the national, of course, and I certainly was not about to go into a pub wearing the "colours" of another team. Thus, I walked in with no fear, ordered by half-pint and sat to enjoy a spot of local culture. Now along comes my wife with this near-angry, half-mad look, so I downed my libation quickly and left. It wasn't until we got out into the alley that she explained what was going on. I s'pose I'll never fully be able to explain to her, that footy fans are the same the world-over; that is, we're just fans. Sure there are a few hooligans out there that try to wreck the fun for the rest of us, but most of us just want to watch our boys run around the pitch while drinking with our fellow supporters, hollering at the stupidity or brilliance of our team & cussing at the offical; all from the sanctity of our pub (social club). I guess if there had been a game on (we were there in off-season, so there wasn't), she might have understood it a little, but she doesn't quite get the rabidity with which we approach the world's game. So, I left with her on my arm, and nary a look back. Wastrel On! (Listening To: Frankenstein by Aimee Mann)

The Ruined Tower of Urquhart

The sheer grandeur of this ruined tower overlooking the loch begged for black & white. On a less dreary & rainy day I likely would have opted for colour to capture the brilliance of the Scottish lichen on the rocks. However, being so overcast, any colour photo was simply going to turn out flat & lifeless. I couldn't do that. The vast emptiness to the right of & behind the tower is the Loch Ness. This tower sits nearly on the cliff overlooking the loch and provides an amazing view up & down offering it's inhabitants additional security.
We did not climb the tower this time for several reasons. We had already spent a little too much time wandering about and still needed to visit the "must see" exhibit in the gift shop. Furthermore there were a number of folks climbing both up & down the very steep, very slick metal staircase. We'd been in the tower before, on a clear day, and knew what the view up & down the loch was like. We decided to avoid the throngs and head on toward the gift shop.
Wastrel On! (Listening to: Keep Talking by Pink Floyd)