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Remember the last time you were sitting at a bar in the States and before you had finished your first drink one of the patrons came up to you, introduced himself, bought you and your wife a round, and then hauled the two of you over to a table full of his friends and family, making you the honored guests of the evening?… Yeah, me neither.

Of course, this is Scotland and not the States. Meet Garry Clifford, his oldest son, Sean, and their good friend John Curran. That is precisely what the three of them did. In less than 10 minutes they had Christine and me at their table and we became family. Garry’s wife Kathleen, Sean’s wife Julie, and John’s wife Carol were every bit as warm and friendly. We didn’t have the chance to buy our own drinks, let alone a round the rest of the night.

Garry and Kathleen have been in love with each other since they were 13. They have been blessed with 29 years of marriage, 5 sons, and a 2 year old granddaughter. Their sons are the best of friends with each other which Garry describes as the proudest gift that life has given him. He and Sean, who is his oldest son, are civil engineers and Harley Davidson enthusiasts. They share a dream of one day riding motorcycles together across the United States. Everyone at table loves the United States, frequently breaking into a chant of USA, USA, USA…

That is not to say that they aren’t saddened and bemused by the state of affairs in our country. Sean reflected that it is incredibly sad that this year it is more dangerous to be a high school student in America than in her military’s service.

Before we left on this journey I often remarked that I would consider these travels a success if just once we were approached overseas as strangers and made a part of someone’s universe of friends. My wish has been granted… in Scotland and with these very good people.

Peace Everyone. Pete

PS. We took a “hop on – hop off” bus tour of Glasgow. Many of the following images are from that tour through this remarkably beautiful city. We are now off for the Highlands!

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After a 6 hour journey from Belfast by bus, ferry, and back on bus, we have arrived in Scotland. We will be in Glasgow for two nights and then proceed by train north into the West Highlands where we will spend at least 4 nights in Fort William. We have already been told that the great weather that is predicted for the next week is an anomaly. Seems we are taking sunshine with us wherever we go.

This has been a rare day where we have turned on the news. Another school shooting in the States. It is eye opening to watch the Europe news and commentary. The word “again” was repeated throughout the presentation, highlighting the disfunction of a system that is frozen to inaction by money and the power of the NRA lobby. It is not hyperbole to say that the United States is seen as a morally broken nation. “Click”, news turned off, but not the reality it reports on this side of the ocean.

Tonight is the 56th night that we have been away from home… we are entering week 9 of this journey. It would be disingenuous of me to solicit sympathy for the small fissures of homesickness that we have begun to experience. We continue to enjoy each day, but there are moments that cause us pause.

Each day brings questions about the quality of tonight’s mattress, shower, and room. When will the next laundry opportunity occur? Will our clothing make it through the next 34 days without falling apart? We have eaten restaurant food for 8 solid weeks. What will be our first home cooked meal? Most of all, we miss family. Our smart phones and tablets can ring up our children with no more difficulty than a local call within the States. However no matter how “smart” the device, it can’t bridge the temporal reality of a 6 or 7 hour time difference. I’m really not complaining, just presenting another side of this experience.

Peace Everyone. Pete

We bid farewell to Huw and Nina this morning. A lingering emptiness hovered over the rest of the day, tempered by the prospect of rejoining them for a November visit in Kansas City. Our friendship grew from their chance meeting with our youngest daughter 18 years ago in France. We were then “pen pals” for 5 year before meeting in person. We shared the excitement of London’s selection to host the 2012 Olympics and the following day we shared the horrors of being in the epicenter of 52 deaths at the hands of terrorists in London. They were present in Kansas City for the marriage of our son, Peter, and the college graduation of our daughter, Alexis. They have become an important part of the story of our family. Until we meet again…

It is Mother’s Day in the United States. Europe honors their Mothers at a different time of the year. I owe the gift of a happy childhood to 2 women, my mother and her mother. The 450 miles that separated my home from grandmother’s home in pre-interstate America meant that I only saw her once or twice a year. However, the quality of her presence was more important than the quantity of our time together. Her eyes and her smile radiated boundless love and pride in me. She died nearly 40 years ago but has been with me every day of my life.

My mother was the architect of my childhood. She held my hand in the best of times and she held me in the painful ones. She taught me how to grow into adulthood yet not outgrow childlike wonder that sparks the imagination and gives appreciation for the little things of life. Wishing her a happy day once each year seems so inadequate compared to the gift that she is to me every day of the year.

Christine has always been the star parent within our home. She raised our children to be the good parents that they are, and in the process taught me to be a better parent than I would otherwise have been. She continues as a source of great joy in the lives of our grandchildren.

Not all of us have had happy childhoods. Not all of us had good parents. Life is a lottery. Some of us pulled winning numbers and some of us did not. For the unlucky among us I hope that Mother’s Day can be a time to accept that there are things that can not be changed. That it is a day to find the courage to change the kind of person/parent that you are, and a day to find the wisdom to know the difference.

Peace Everyone. Pete

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March 3rd seems a lifetime ago. Within my “Thoughts” you will find it is the day I wondered if our undertaking was a trip, a vacation, a journey or a pilgrimage. I offered the following thoughts at that time:

• A Trip is any travel that takes one from point “A” to point “B” without regard to distance or purpose. It is the barest transport of a body from here to there. Purpose is irrelevant as is the quality of the experience.

• A Vacation is a departure from the routine of one’s life. It may or may not involve travel, such as a “staycation”. It evinces an intention to temporarily detour from one’s duties without shirking one’s responsibilities.

• A Journey conjures up the image of travel that is of an extended duration. “Journey” has the character of uniqueness relative to one’s prior experiences. It is self-directed, assumed as a personal responsibility, and not left into the hands of another. “Journey” can result in a redirection of one’s life and perhaps the lives of others.

Our travels these last 7 weeks certainly have qualified as a journey. We have over 5 weeks left before we again step foot in our own home. This has been a remarkable, but at times wearing experience. We correctly rejected the notion of these travels being a vacation as they have become our reality. However, for the last 4 days we have found the course of each day to be more in the hands of our Welsh friends, Huw and Nina Thomas. They have given us a brief and most welcome “departure from the routine of (our) life.” Good fortune has followed the four of us on this vacation within a journey.

Heavy rains were predicted for the entire day. However the overnight showers gave way to sunshine and pleasant temperatures as we toured Muckross House, Abbey, and the Dingle Peninsula.

There were brief showers, but they were a gift in their own right as emerald green fields were gilded before our eyes with the spectrum hues of a rainbow sky.

Vacations end and today is our last full day with our friends. In keeping with my “mantra” of always having a “next thing”, the four of us have begun to formulate a plan for their visit to us in the States. But first about the day…

Muckross House and Abbey are situated within Ireland’s first and oldest National Park. The House is a 65 room mansion that was built in 1843. In the 1860’s the family undertook a 6 year long project to prepare for a 2 day visit by Queen Victoria. The family had hopes of being conferred a title by the Queen, which unfortunately for them did not occur. The extensive decorating and furnishings that they purchased for the visit ended up bankrupting the family. The House and its 11,000 acres had to be sold to resolve the debts. Subsequent owners gifted Muckross to the Republic of Ireland which made it into its first National Park. Unfortunately, pictures within the home were not allowed. 70% of the furnishings are original to the House, including paintings, hunting trophies, and furniture. The owners beds and the bed in which the Queen slept for 2 nights are only 6 feet long. Aristocrats of the time preferred to sleep sitting up in the belief that it was healthier for them.

Within the extensive grounds of Muckross are the ruins of a Franciscan Abbey that dates to the 1440’s. It was built upon older, perhaps ancient structures, and is reputed to be the burial grounds for several chieftains of those earlier times. The Abbey was the victim in the 1500’s of Henry the VIII and his separation from the Catholic Church.

Our drive to Dingle and on the Dingle Peninsula was a feast for the eyes.

We spent the night near Tralee and will be proceeding on our last full day with Huw and Nina to Limerick.

Peace Everyone. Pete

PS. Christine, who “never” eats seafood, ate a HUGE plate of fish and chips!!

We have arrived by train in Waterford Ireland, the oldest city in Ireland and the 5th largest in the Republic with a population of approximately 54,000. It was founded as a Viking settlement in 914 and became a heavily fortified stronghold with a medieval wall surrounding the city that measured approximately 1.5 km. Reginald’s Tower, constructed in the 13th Century was once a part of those defenses and still stands today within the area known as the Viking Triangle.

Excavations in and around the old fortifications have revealed a trove of relics from the founding period. The city is proud of this heritage and presents a number of symbols of that time including an accurate reproduction of a Viking longboat, a Viking dwelling, and a remarkable 30 minute virtual reality presentation on Viking lore and history. The host of the production was an actor who took his role quite seriously.

The virtual reality glasses and headphones caused Christine, who was seated next to me in the Viking house, to “disappear” and be replaced by very real looking and acting people from the past. It was IMAX on steroids!

Our friends, Huw and Nina, arrived from Wales. It has been 11 years since we last saw them. The years melted away with the first embraces. This evening we shared dinner and hoisted a pint. We will tour the Waterford Crystal factory with them tomorrow before beginning our multi-day driving trek about Southern Ireland.

One pub here in town proudly displays license plates from each of the 50 US States, including our home State of Missouri!

Peace Everyone. Pete