Happy Birthday, Mom! (and catch up)

First, a big shoutout to my mom, who is celebrating her birthday today! Happy Birthday, Mom! May all your cakes this next year come with extra icing! I love you dearly!

And now to catch up . . .

It’s a bit hard to know where to pick up on the blog since I’ve been away almost two months. I’ve thought about a number of potential posts in that time, but actually writing them is another thing.

Some of you know that I was home in the U.S. for a few weeks in July/August. It was a very sweet visit seeing my nephew get married and spending a lot of time with my family. I was also able to see some friends, though I’m sorry to those I wasn’t able to connect with – with trying to keep working and some other things coming up, time went really fast.

During my trip, one of my nephews asked me what I missed most about the U.S. and, on my last day, my mom asked me what the highlight of my trip was and the answer is pretty much the same – being with family and friends. On this trip, I enjoyed having breakfast and lunch each day with my mom, going for evening walks to Reading’s City Park with my dad when it wasn’t too hot and making note of all the park creatures we saw each time.

I could write a whole blog on City Park itself – it’s a wonderful green oasis and I was so glad to see it full of life – both wildlife and the many youth using the tennis and basketball courts. While looking at old photos with my dad, I found that it was a place he visited with his parents. It feels as though my roots for that place run nearly as deep as those of the massive buttonwood trees that ring the edges. It’s a real treasure.

Re-entry to Glasgow was not without its bumps. Once I arrived from the airport to the front door of our apartment, I placed my key in the lock and couldn’t seem to make it work. D. was home, heard me and tried to open it on his side – no go as well. We went back and forth trying for a time – still no success. I nearly broke into tears in my post-travel weariness. I opened the mail slot and asked D. to call a locksmith.

Once he reached a locksmith, we found another hurdle – D. couldn’t understand what the locksmith was saying. I was eavesdropping through the mail slot anxiously when I heard D. said, “I’m going to have to hand you to someone else as I can’t understand you.” Phone comes my way through the mail slot.

My ears were still blocked from the flight and my Glaswegian listening comprehension a bit out of practice, but I marshaled all my energies. I wanted a shower and bed more than anything. The locksmith had me look into the lock and guided me to find where the mechanism had gotten stuck. He said I needed a screwdriver. I called out to my surgical assistant on the other side of the door to hand me a screwdriver. “Where is the screwdriver?” called the assistant from the other side of the door. Oh lord, I thought, who knows where I left it in the mad few days before traveling.

The first screwdriver was located – too big. A call to my assistant for the smaller one. Some moments pass and through the letter slot comes the small screw driver. I’m able to move the mechanism and to get the key in the lock! I think that at this point, I blessed the locksmith and all of his children for all eternity out loud. Lord knows he likely had to put his phone on mute while laughing at the two panicked foreigners – one locked in and one locked out.

There’s one for the misadventures in Scotland column. I would enter only to find another mini-drama. More on that in my next post.

May all doors be open to you . . .