The Lairig Ghru never disappoints

Wow! A vital ingredient for happiness. 

 

November in the Lairig Ghru. I packed all my warm clothes, my waterproofs and extra dubbin ... but I forgot the sunscreen. 

Intellectually, I know these places are important habitats, that the trees in the distance are one of the few remnants of the Caledonian Pine Forest, that these terraces and ridges are the marks of past glaciers with ice-marginal lagoons dotted with icebergs, that the broad, distant valley was once filled with a great ice stream. All this is amazing, but there is something that isn't quite so conscious, more primitive that makes this place really special for me: peace and perspective, feeling the wind on my face, smelling the heather... being able to focus city-living eyes beyond the neighbouring tenement and next-door's recycling bin; a half-forgotten memory of being lured up a wee hill as a lass with the promise of a kit-kat at the top; a mountain-goat style clamber as a teenager through here on Cairngorm Mountain Rescue Team sponsored walks. Happy to be "home".

More than a year in Scotland

Somehow a year has passed since the massive Samskip container was parked outside our flat and 4 men, 2 grandparents, one baby and I emptied it in the space of about 10 minutes. Throughout, the traffic warden, a great bear-like man, prowled about and gave warnings of hefty fines.

Since then we've missed two eruptions, got married, Hazel learnt to crawl, sleep through the night (phew), turned one, then started walking two weeks later when staying with her Scottish grandparents. She learnt to climb, to dance, and now is perfecting talking  (salsa, salsa, more, more, tango, tango..). Óli has started writing mobile phone apps and I am addicted to spinning his (and H's) game hedgehog around his phone screen. I am writing papers and doing some teaching and enjoying being back around some of my old friends, the old building where I studied before and the new library which is all fancy and shiny and a wonderfully quiet place to hide and work. We have been lucky enough to meet some lovely new friends and to get back in touch with old ones. We miss Icelandic friends, friends and family in Iceland and the wonderful folk sessions. We are growing plants - but outside, not on our windowsill and are already munching on the fruits of our seed sewing. As much as possible on sunny days like today we live in the little garden and Hazel is trying her best to cuddle all the local cats (and today a spider). All the cats and the spider have so far resisted her charms. I think perhaps chanting "meeow, meeow, meeow (mjá, mjá, mjá) " and running at high speed with arms outstretched towards them doesn't help.