SIMPLE LIVING IN SCOTLAND AND AT MY HOUSE

Oban, Inner Hebrides, Scotland

 A few midwinter days at the beach have left me time for new reading.  I found (or it found me) Scottish Stories by Molly Ella on Substack.  She writes about her slow and simple life in the Scottish Highlands.  Well, three falls ago we spent some time in Scotland in the Inner Hebrides, some absolutely wonderful time staying in Oban on the Bay and taking ferries all about to islands and eating langoustines whenever possible.  My grandmother was a Chisholm, the clan whose dress plaid is red and whose hunting plaid is brown.  It's not easy to find the Chisholm plaid but we work at it. Then just two falls ago our grandson entered St. Andrews University and is biking to class and enjoying living by the North Sea.  So how could I not be attracted to Scottish Stories by Molly Ella?

She writes about frugal living.  I too was raised that way.  We did all home repairs ourselves.  We took staycations (not a word then) more often than not.  We ate out, if at all, at cafeterias and burger havens.  My mother made hodgepodge almost every night.  A real summer treat was a mug of frosty root beer at A&W drive-in. We went to free movies in the park in summer and skated free on the pond in winter.  The public schools had free summer enrichment classes in which I was unfailingly enrolled. We went sledding on local hills and public golf courses.  The St. Louis art museum was free, the Jewel Box Botanical Garden and the St. Louis zoo the same.  My mother got something new to wear once a year and that was at Christmas.  I'm sure she didn't own a pair of boots other than galoshes.  She waited for the school bus with her students and was beloved by them.  Somehow, then and now, none of this was a deprivation.  Materialism had no place in my childhood.  Education, yes, but not consumerism. 

Molly Ella says that living frugally can be positive for our mental health and cites the research (see Journal of Consumer Psychology).  I agree.  Thrift originally meant to thrive.  Lessening or eliminating the stress of debt is emotionally freeing.  Savoring and appreciating  (I did not chug that root beer) stretches the positive experience.  Spending less usually means working less which ups our work-life balance.  This is true even as a retiree:  if I'm not scrolling the outlet sites or running up to TJMax, I have more time to garden, read, chat, you name it.  

Somehow, without planning, I have been having a low-buy year.  Last July when my husband had surgery and I became an at-home caregiver, I realized how little of a wardrobe I needed.  And that's when I decided not to buy any new clothes this year.  So far I am not failing. 😊  The upside, besides time and money saved, is that I'm making all sorts of combinations with what's in my closet. I'm being creative.  The time I'm saving also leaves more room for knitting and I've finished a neck warmer that enlivens every sweater I have.  Then too, knitting goes well with movie watching which is great on winter weekends.  My alcohol-free January (which started late December) fits in with a low-buy year--great savings there--part of which I have dedicated to flowers or candles when I pass by the wine section at the grocery store.  With no wine on the menu, I'm losing weight (slimming, as the British say) which means some lovely trousers in the back of my closet now fit, so more variety at no cost.  

So of course, with all this going on, I am attracted to a newsletter by a young Scottish woman on her intentional living.  Simple, intentional, frugal, slow . . . a good fit for me right now.  Maybe for you too.  

                                        Thanks for reading, Nina Naomi

ONE DARK NIGHT; A POEM FOR SLEEPLESSNESS

 

One Dark Night

I wake in the night to have tea.

Tea and a muffin.

Chamomile tea and a muffin spread with chewy honeycomb.

A crumbly corn muffin sticky with comb.

The sleeplessness is instantly transformed into a treat.

 

Funny how that goes,

The way you can find pleasure in the smallest of things, 

Like the ritual of tea.  

So what might have been tossing and turning becomes instead the silent space of reflection. 

I'm awake enough to browse Bella Grace and to write in its margins.

Ideas.  Inspirations.  

This is, after all, not a bad time to be awake.

The dark outside a comfort and the window ajar.

No one else stirs, not even the dog.  

Especially not even the dog, who curls like a snail.

 

Often worries come at night. 

Things always, as they say, look better in the morning.  

Emily Dickinson writes, "Not knowing when the dawn will come, I open every door." 

But tonight I am happy it is two in the morning.

I have hours in this peaceful room edged with shadows. 

A soothing hot drink and some honeycomb, 

A pen and some margins to write in.

 

Such  simple things to enjoy.   

I might settle into sleep

Or settle into wakefulness

In a pool of light with only black beyond the fringes as close as I can feel.  

                                          by Nina Naomi

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

ISN'T IT GOOD JUST TO BE ALIVE?

Mr. Wiggles

Wigs is not a fancy dog. I groom him myself, which really should be "groom" in quotes.  An uneven haircut and bath in the laundry room sink, especially needed after he's found a bit of who-knows-what to roll in.  I need to Google "Why do dogs roll in stuff that stinks?" [OK, I looked it up.  Called "scent rolling,"  the responses range from "because they're disguising their own scent" to "because it feels so good."]  

Last evening standing with Mr. Wiggles by the back door I could see my husband in the window light clearing the dishes.  What a lovely scene I thought.  But Mr. Wigs and I could hear the coyotes and they were too close for comfort. Once it's dark, even if it's only 5 o'clock, we go out with him to ease his fears.  He stays close by then, not venturing beyond the trees that border the driveway.  There was barking last night where there are no houses or pets, nothing but woods and train track.  It was too early for that mad howling we hear some nights late, but Mr. Wiggles knew. 

I heard a sound like a hiss then, close by, maybe under the tree house.  I told myself it must have been the out-breath of a startled deer, nothing more.  But my light picked up only trees.  

Wiggles is a brave boy, routing deer during the early morning which always amazes me.  Such skittish creatures that a 10 lb maltipoo can scatter a herd and they both know it.  He plays his part and they play theirs.  Running and barking while they gracefully leap and dodge.  He can't chase them far.  

By the time we came inside the kitchen was wiped down and it was time to watch another episode of one of those exciting series all of us get hooked on. These are the simplest of pleasures.  In North Carolina a mild autumn night, the dog, dinner over and a little TV.  When I walked out with Mr. Wiggles again at 11 pm he made quick work of it.  I bet you're finding simple pleasures too.   

 

 

 

 

 

WEATHER BROWSING, A SIMPLE PLEASURE

Hints of autumn today with a high of only 82°F.  That may not sound like much relief from the heat but in the North Carolina Piedmont it is.  Here the leaves don't change until late October.  They begin to fall in mid-November and the trees aren't bare until January. Late Fall, short Winter, early Spring and long Summer.  September will continue hot with rampant mosquitoes and the mighty chigger.  The idea of lying in the grass to star gaze would be folly.  Chigger welts heal slowly! 

I love my weather app.  Our temperature is always about the same as in Rome.  High there today 86° F.  No coliseum here or motor bike rush hour; no il primo pasta course or il secondo meat or fish course.  No house Montepulciano.  But we do have similar weather.  

London, where I wish I could live one month (or more) out of every twelve, is pretty dreary weather-wise. Mostly wet or less wet.  Sun at around 3 p.m.  Although right now late afternoon it's 64°F with blue skies.  Really lovely for London.  Even with the pandemic Londoners must be enjoying their outdoor cafes.  Somehow the weather seems irrelevant when we're there.  Some places we love rain or shine don't we?  

In Keswick, England, a market town on a tranquil lake called Derwentwater, it's raining and 51°F.  No doubt it feels colder.  We spent one glorious chilly week there in full rain gear tracking down a stone circle from the Neolithic era.  After a long hike we found out we could have taken a tourist bus.  So glad we didn't! I've got exuberant video of sheep clambering on the stones, their bleating outdone only by the relentless wind.  

And it's always fun to check Fairbanks, Alaska.  Right now it is 43°F in Fairbanks.  Not bad at all.  (Post: "Slow Journeying Through Alaska," 9/9/17) When I check the weather in places I've been or lived it brings back memories.  Living in London where our daughter was born; a wonderful visit to here or there; a sabbatical year . . . .  I know we can't travel right now, but I've enjoyed weather browsing for years.  It's not just pandemic-yearning, though there is some of that I'm sure.  

Maybe the pleasure springs from the miracle of nature, the changing seasons and the beauty of the world.  Maybe a small detail like the weather in Yellowstone National Park (Post: "Adventure Therapy," 3/31/17)  sparks the imagination.  Or Bryce Canyon, Utah (Posts: "About Awe," 10/18-20/19) where the temperature swings 40 degrees in a day! 

Bryce Canyon

People everywhere enjoying the sunshine, looking for rain, foraging for food, lighting outdoor fires, bundling against the cold and seeking the world's wonders.  Our commonality.  

It's a good hobby.  A simple pleasure.

                                                                         Nina Naomi

 

 

  

VISIT NORTH CAROLINA FOR THE SIMPLE PLEASURES, PART I

It's lovely that this month's readers are from Canada, Germany, Indonesia, India, Japan, Portugal, Russia, Singapore and the US.  Places I have visited or plan to or dream about. So whether North Carolina is home or far, far away I'm encouraging visitors. If that's impossible I hope these photos make you feel like you've visited.  They're some of my favorite places.  And armchair travel is a pleasure on its own. Lot's of us see the world that way. 

North Carolina stretches from the Atlantic coast to the mountains, so let's start at the beach! There are rental houses, camp sites, and everything in-between.  We can't do it all justice, but here are some gems.  

The pelicans are prolific.  I wish I were a good enough photographer to catch them diving beak first, but no such luck. The gulls heckle and swoop and grab french fries in mid-air.  This one sat still on a piling on the Morehead City waterfront.

Day and 1/2 Day Fishing Charters

Morehead City is an active Port with large container ships waiting their turn at the loading docks.  Its population is about 9,000.  It hosts fishing tournaments and provides causeway access to the string of island towns across Bogue Sound.  Below is the fisherman's path at Fort Macon, where there's an old civil war fort and Bogue Sound meets the Atlantic. Surf casting from the rock jetty is good here, though a bit treacherous. You have to be nimble.  

The boating is good too.  And the pier fishing. For surf fishing, swimming and shelling, nestled public paths meander through the live oak out to the beach in residential areas.  It's all free.  Parking is a short walk away.

Oceana Fishing Pier

Public Beach Access, Dogwood Circle

These last two photos are of the same path, back to front, beach to road.  We take this path often with a beach wagon for our gear. 
 

There are so many great places for seafood on the Chrystal Coast. Redfish Grill is a waterfront bar and grill in downtown Morehead, open year-round. 

Red Fish Grill, Morehead City Waterfront

Southern Salt Seafood Company opened where the old Captain Bill's used to be.  Built on piers over Bogue Sound.

Southern Salt Seafood, Morehead City Waterfront

And Crab's Claw, at the Circle on Atlantic Beach with breezy upper and lower outside-seating right on the sand.  The owner, Toni, does an amazing Thanksgiving Day feast.  Roast oysters, turkey and ham, oyster stuffing. . . . Everyone who comes gets a $10-off coupon for another visit.  Can't wait to see the re-build after last fall's hurricanes. 

Crab's Claw, Atlantic Beach Boardwalk

These yard signs are all about.  We don't want drilling off the North Carolina shore.  This yard is on the Sound side of Pine Knoll Shores, one of the island towns built around the canals and a great place to bike-ride. You can also bike-ride along the ocean at low tide when the sand is hard.  Just save the wind-at-your-back for the return ride!   

Colorful canoe racks are in every local waterside marina and park.  This one is in Beaufort, just 8 miles from Morehead City over another causeway.  Beaufort is a pre-revolutionary war town established in 1709.  Wild horses roam across Taylor's creek and on Shackleford Banks, accessible by ferry from the town. Great for a day with your picnic cooler. Or you can unwind at the Front Street Grill at Stillwater on Taylor's creek in Beaufort and watch the horses across the water. 

Historic white houses line the streets in Beaufort.  This small commercial alley looks lovingly tended.  A bottle tree decorates another front garden.  The town is a walkable paradise except for the hottest summer days. 

The lighthouse on Shackleford Banks is also accessible by ferry.  A wonderful place to hike and swim.  The shelling is magnificent on the Crystal Coast, especially at low tide, after a storm, and in winter.  I have glass containers of olives and augurs (a carnivore smaller than your little fingernail), welks and Lady Slippers, jingles and coral, calico scallops and razor shell clams. . . .  It's hard to overstate how exhilarating a ride to the lighthouse is, watching it come into view and grow larger on the horizon, skirting smaller islands as you go. Then walking the width down a path through low dunes to the Atlantic Ocean and if it's calm enough, floating away an hour or so.          

Sunsets are not to be outdone.  Sunrises either.  And best of all the beaches are never crowded.  At least not unless it's Fourth of July!

Maybe the wonderful beaches in Portugal aren't either--one of my wish-list places.  They aren't crowded in the UK where I've been, where the locals "wild swim" in a cold sea.  But they were on the Mediterranean!  

Sunset in January, Emerald Isle

So, yes, come to North Carolina and start at the beaches.  There are more.  Hatteras, Kitty Hawk, Nags Head, Ocracoke Island, Cedar Island, Oriental, then south, Wilmington, Wrightsville Beach, Long Beach. I'm sure I've skipped someone's favorite. 

In Part II I'll try to persuade to you visit or armchair-visit the Piedmont, the middle of the state where my North Carolina family lives.  Foothills all the way to the mountains.  Stay tuned!