Men without shirts, men without pants

"A slow sort of country!" said the Queen. "Now, here, you see, it takes all the running you can do, to keep in the same place. If you want to get somewhere else, you must run at least twice as fast as that!" There's nothing like Alice in Wonderland to give you a way of describing chaos and adventure, and since I feel like I’ve been running just as hard as I can just to stay in one place, I'd better let you all know what I've been up to all this time. And I promise to add pictures, just as soon as I catch up with the text!

Speaking of Wonderland, my first trip was to the Romantic Times Booklovers Convention down in Florida (hey, I told you I was behind on blogging!). I barely to get to the airport through the torrential rains that New England had a month ago, only to find that my airline reservation had disappeared into the ether. After having found a flight that a.) wouldn’t break the bank, and b.) would get me to Daytona Beach nearly on time, I was shocked to find myself on warm, sunny beach with male cover models playing volley ball outside my window. Talk about cultural and climatological dissonance! I tried not to talk too much about the shirtless men who seemed to be roaming wild everywhere when I called home, but that was better than gushing about how fantastic the weather was! I focused more on how much fun I was having meeting the romance readers and writers and the super reception our panel received. Our panel, organised by Susan McBride, featured Cara Black, Carole Nelson Douglas, Lois Greiman, and Charlaine Harris discussing "Digging Up the Bones: History, Mystery, and the Paranormal." I was only able to stay at RT for a few days this time; next time I go back, it will be for the whole week. The folks I met were wonderful, warm, professional, and a treat to talk books with. And some of them already knew me and Emma—a bonus!

Got home. Still pouring. Did laundry. Packed up for a brief vacation in Scotland.

Okay, so when I was working, it was warm and sunny. When I was on vacation, I won’t say it was always cold and rainy (it was, but still less than Massachusetts), but it wasn’t, shall we say, lounging weather. To quote Joss Whedon: Does that seem right to you? Actually, I would have been disappointed if it didn’t rain a bit in Scotland; the last three or four times I’ve been to Britain, there were droughts. The weather was chilly, occasionally rainy, but there were periods of absolutely glorious sun, so it was like getting to have spring all over again. We went for a long coach tour of the Trossachs and the Highlands, and while the heather wasn’t in bloom, the bluebells and rhododendrons were spectacular. Even though we never stopped for long anywhere, it was very cool to see Glencoe, Ben Nevis, and Loch Ness, which is stunningly beautiful and in no need of mythical monsters (next picture, below left).

In Edinburgh, we saw the castle (right), the Royal Museum, the Museum of Scotland, the Scottish National Gallery, and the Scotch Whisky Heritage Center (since I sometimes teach a class on the archaeology of food and do a section on wine and spirits through history, and since Emma is a single-malt drinker, it was an excellent research opportunity). There was a walking tour of Edinburgh’s literary history that was just brilliant. The museums were superb, but my favorite exhibit was at the Museum of Scotland. There is a collection of tiny figurines that were found in the 1830s on Arthur’s Seat, a park in Edinburgh. There are about eight of them left, of the original seventeen, and each figure is beautifully carved and clothed—no longer than about four inches—and each was housed in a tiny coffin. Looking at them is an emotional and compelling experience. Speculation abounds on what they represent: some kind of witchcraft or magic? Toys? A ceremonial burial for the victims of Burke and Hare, the men who murdered their victims in order to sell their bodies to the medical school? Two things about that last theory: These are the figurines that inspired Ian Rankin to write The Falls. And they do not sell replicas of these in the gift shop, which I thought was a pity. On the other hand, I’m trying to imagine what it would be like explaining the army of doll-sized coffins to the lovely people at airport security, though I’m sure they’ve seen weirder.

We grabbed the train out to Stirling, to see Stirling Castle (right) on one of the most gorgeous days of the whole trip. And while I know it intellectually, I learn it every time I travel: Castles and other fortifications are on hills. This affords the wonderful view to the modern tourist, but was intended for defensive reasons, way back when. Castles are meant to be hard to reach, so between the volcanic hills in Edinburgh, and the castles, we walked our feet off. This wasn’t a bad thing, because there are some seriously inventive and decadent cheeses in Scotland, and I was determined to try as many as possible. Did I mention the kilts? There were men in kilts all over the place in Edinburgh, and although it isn’t usual daywear, there were lots of weddings and society meetings that demanded ceremonial garb, especially around the castle. When properly worn, they are darned fetching, those kilts.