Why Starbucks Is So Successful

By Kristy McCaffrey

This statement is, of course, redundant—people love coffee and Starbucks does it right. I’m certain I can’t give any insight that many of you don’t already know. But a recent conversation with my husband made me realize the deep, abiding relationship my family has with this establishment.

One afternoon he decided to pull out the calculator and estimate how much money we spend annually at Starbucks. It came out to a whopping $9,000. I nervously laughed and rolled my eyes. Surely he was overstating. Ironically, I don’t even like coffee. I never have. But I do love a daily cup of their chai tea latte. That doesn’t even cost that much. And my husband has reduced his intake to plain, regular coffee, easily paid for with pocket change. But our daily pilgrimages have rubbed off on our two teenage daughters. So, his estimate of spending $25 a day might not be so far off. The girls love big frappucinos along with a sandwich or those cute protein trays. He seems to think I can’t say no to them. But consider that during these times life is calm and wonderful between a mom and two teenage daughters, a rare occurrence to be savored and certainly not slapped with a pricetag.

But $9,000? I don’t go to Starbucks every day. In fact, I strictly adhere to a rule of not going to Starbucks more than once a day when I do patronize. I’m very proud of myself for that practice, although I’ll admit it has more to do with calorie intake than cost. So I think his estimate could be downgraded to, say, $7,000. However, that’s a lot of money. We sure could take a nice vacation with it. But isn’t that what going to Starbucks is all about? A little mini-break in the middle (or morning) of your day. It’s delicious, it’s fun, it’s relaxing.

I really must blame my husband. His love of technology caused him to enthusiastically put the Starbucks gift card app on my smartphone. All I have to do is whip it out and like magic my order is paid for. It’s just too easy.

My husband and I were thrilled when we
found a Starbucks in Cusco, Peru
last April.

College-Bound Children and Hiking

By Kristy McCaffrey


When my two boys were young, they frequently used the word “pathway” to describe a direction they wanted to go. It was an unusual description for them to utter since my husband and I never used it. You’ll note that my blog is called Pathways, which is a direct reference to my children. Pathways lead to all sorts of places: a sidewalk in front of a house, a stream in the woods, a new direction in life.



Sam and I at
UC Boulder

I recently dropped my oldest at college. Samuel is 19 years old and beyond ready to begin his life. That readiness took some of the sting from watching him exit our world. When he was a toddler, I’d delayed his start to kindergarten, something I realized a few years later was unnecessary. First child, many mistakes. However, I had one extra year of him chomping at the bit to gain his independence. We parents will take whatever we can get. 

Sam’s destination was the University of Colorado at Boulder, a really lovely campus in a really beautiful location. My husband and I met his roommate, we bought him a bike, I organized his clothes because like most moms I worry he won’t do it correctly. Mostly, I just worry he won’t do it all. As I’ve said many times to my children, life is much easier if you’re organized. But when a mom speaks, kid’s ears automatically close. Really, it’s a thing.

The Columbine Trail in
North Cheyenne Canyon,
Colorado Springs

The following day my husband had a business meeting in Colorado Springs, so I accompanied him to Colorado Springs. With an afternoon to myself I spent 6 hours hiking my sadness away. I found an easy-to-follow yet rigorous trail in North Cheyenne Canyon. The Columbine Trail was eight miles roundtrip. Just what I needed. And being alone was welcome. When Sam was born, he was 8 weeks premature. I remember then that I didn’t want to make idle chitchat with others—I simply didn’t have the energy, anxiously visiting him every day at the neonatal intensive care unit at Magee Women’s Hospital in Pittsburgh. And now, I didn’t want to talk either. It was as if conversing would spill too much from me. I wanted to keep it all close—my memories of him, my joy from having him in my life, my happiness as he embarks on a wonderful new phase, my heartache from simply missing him.

View from the Columbine Trail ~ Colorado
Springs is in the distance

Samuel at Magee Women's Hospital in Pittsburgh



Three days later I hiked again, this time an attempt at the summit of Mt. Humphrey in Flagstaff, the highest point in Arizona at 12,633 feet. The 4-mile trail, beginning at the Snow Bowl Ski Resort, is strenuous and hard-to-follow in places, with a 3200 foot elevation gain. I attempted it earlier in the summer with my husband but heavy cloud cover had left us confused and we lost the trail, so we never made it to the top. This time I went with my dad, who knew the area. When I told him our stories of Sam and college and concerns and woes, he just laughed. I finally knew exactly how he and my mom had felt when I left for college all those years ago, me being his eldest. I could now appreciate not only their restraint in showing their grief, but also the financial support without probing my every monetary move. (I think of my year in the sorority that cost my dad a fortune—he never berated me when I decided to quit.) I can only hope to be as supportive with my own children. My husband and I still have three more to go.

But back to my attempt for the Humphrey summit—I didn’t make it again. At around 12,000 feet I knew I needed to turn back. After 4 hours of hiking in the rain, I was drenched and in the early stages of hypothermia. It’s a really strange phenomena when your fingers stop functioning and it’s not from frostbite. I made several mistakes with my clothing (I should have donned a rain poncho from the start and not worn layers of cotton clothing, which don’t dry quickly), but I also learned two things: push your boundaries but know when to heed that inner voice. My dad never tried to sway me either way. Perhaps that is the best parenting of all—buoy your children to step outside their comfort zone but at the same time let them think for themselves. Entering young adulthood isn’t unlike a long hike: there will be ups and downs, there will be good stretches along with exhausting slogs through the mud, and there will always be the unknowable aspect of the journey.

You can choose to stay where you are, or instead follow the pathway.

Sam—your father and I are here for you, but I promise to keep my weeping to myself.

Find Your Path, Find Your Purpose

By Kristy McCaffrey

“The job of the wayfinder, whether an ancient oracle or a modern scientific theorist, is to reach beyond current human knowledge into the realm of the unimagined and bring back something true and useful.” ~ Martha Beck

Do you have a strong sense of having a specific mission or purpose in life? Do you have a compulsion to master certain skills, to become proficient in a certain profession? Do you have a high sense of empathy? Do you feel a strong desire to lessen the suffering for people or animals? Do you feel as if you don’t quite fit into normal society?

Martha Beck addresses these questions in her rich and layered book Finding Your Way in a Wild New World: Reclaim Your True Nature to Create the Life You Want. Hers isn’t the first treatise on the subject of life purpose, but her approach is more in line with ancient shamanic teachings rather than modern-day psychology. In an engaging manner she outlines the basic tenets of the Team. The Team, you see, is here to change the world, and many of us are on this Team whether we realize it or not. She points out that in today’s world, knowledge is common place; the real need is human attention. And not just any attention, but a focus based on authenticity, inventiveness, humor, empathy, and meaning. 

Team members are wayfinders, and wayfinders have been around for millennia, utilizing ancient technologies. Beck calls these the Technologies of Magic: Wordlessness, Oneness, Imagination, and Forming.

Wordlessness shifts the mind from the verbal center to the more creative and intuitive side of the brain. Oneness allows you to feel the connections we all have to one another and the world around us. With wordlessness and oneness activated, using Imagination will help you achieve a level of problem solving that won’t feel like work. And finally, Forming will bring what you’ve imagined into the physical world. The first two are states of consciousness, not something society places a high value upon, but without them not much of consequence will be accomplished. People are more acquainted with the last two skills; they are more active states, more doing states. However, it’s important not to skip the first two because without them what you form in this world will have no real significance or impact on those around you.

To achieve Wordlessness, any activity that dissolves verbal attention will do, such as singing, painting, poetry, literature, dancing, or any type of repetitive exercise like running, swimming or cycling. One well known path to Wordlessness is yoga.

If Wordlessness is becoming present in the magical realm then Oneness is connecting and communicating through it. In Oneness there is no separation between yourself and anything else in the universe. Ancient teachers say that we communicate with everything and everything is communicating with us. In the Gospel of Thomas, Jesus says, “I am the light that is over all things…Split a piece of wood and I am there. Lift up the stone, and you will find me there.”

One way to master Oneness is through deep practice, an intense way of learning a new skill that requires persistence. It’s not a matter of repetition but rather fully embracing the new skill, integrating it into your neural pathways, and then branching out in new and innovative ways.

Beck states, “To master Wordlessness, heal your true nature, and become a wayfinder, you must unlearn almost everything you were taught in school about what it means to be intelligent.” 

Wordlessness and Oneness can seem challenging for a person of western culture to master. “One South American shaman who was trained by a tribe deep in the forest…has to work to step out of Oneness so that he can understand the fear and neuroses of his First World patients.”

Using an analogy of a computer, mastering all four facets of the Technologies of Magic can be thought of in this way: log on to the energetic Internet using Wordlessness, communicate by sending energetic messages via Oneness, write code to create things online using Imagination, and finally, print out the creation—Forming—bringing it into the physical realm.

The time is now. The world needs what you have to offer. Don’t wait. Perhaps you want to rescue animals, perhaps you want to bring safe drinking water to a third world country, or maybe you simply feel called to help an elderly neighbor down the street get groceries. We all play a part, big and small. Nature can heal itself and Team members are willing to leave their gilded cage and embrace the change needed in today’s world.

Wings of the West Series by Kristy McCaffrey ~ Historical Western Romance

Post by Kristy McCaffrey

I apologize for a less-than-original post, but school started today for my daughters and, along with all the running around of getting one son ready for boarding school and sending the other off to college, I seem to have experienced blog burnout. So, I’ll take this chance to shamelessly plug my books. If you’ve read them and liked them maybe you’d consider posting a review on Amazon or goodreads. I’ve heard this can help an author. J (However, if you didn’t like my books then please skip that part.)

Feel free to share this post with anyone you know who enjoys historical western romances. I’d be most appreciative.

 

THE WREN

Wings of the West Series: Book One 

Ten years have passed since her ranch was attacked, her folks murdered and Molly Hart was abducted.  Now, at nineteen, she’s finally returning home to north Texas after spending the remainder of her childhood with a tribe of Kwahadi Comanche.  What she finds is a deserted home coated with dust and the passage of time, the chilling discovery of her own gravesite, and the presence of a man she thought never to see again.

Matt Ryan is pushed by a restless wind to the broken-down remains of the Hart ranch.  Recently recovering from an imprisonment that nearly ended his life, the drive for truth and fairness has all but abandoned him.  For ten years he faithfully served the U.S. Army and the Texas Rangers, seeking justice for the brutal murder of a little girl, only to find closure and healing beyond his grasp.  Returning to the place where it all began, he’s surprised to stumble across a woman with the same blue eyes as the child he can’t put out of his mind. 

Available Kindle

Available Nook

Available Print

            Review The Wren at goodreads

 

THE DOVE

Wings of the West Series: Book Two

Disappointment hits ex-deputy Logan Ryan hard when he finds Claire Waters in the midst of a bustling Santa Fe Trail town.  The woman he remembers is gone—in her place is a working girl with enticing curves and a load of trouble.  As a web of deceit entangles them with men both desperate and dangerous, Logan tries to protect Claire, unaware his own past poses the greatest threat.

Plagued by shame all her life, Claire is stunned when Logan catches her on the doorstep of The White Dove Saloon dressed as a prostitute.  She lets him believe the worst but with her mama missing and the fancy girls deserting the place, she's hard-pressed to refuse his offer of help.  As she embarks on a journey that will unravel the fabric of her life one thing becomes clear—opening her heart may be the most dangerous proposition of all.

Available Kindle

Available Nook

Available Print

Review The Dove at goodreads

 

THE SPARROW

Wings of the West Series: Book Three

In 1877 Emma Hart comes to Grand Canyon, a wild, rugged, and until recently undiscovered area. Plagued by visions and gifted with a second sight, she searches for answers—about the tragedy of her past, the betrayal of her present, and an elusive future that echoes through her very soul. Joined by her power animal Sparrow, she ventures into the depths of Hopi folklore, forced to confront an evil that has lived through the ages.

            Texas Ranger Nathan Blackmore tracks Emma Hart to the Colorado River, stunned by her determination to ride a wooden dory along its course. But in a place where the ripples of time run deep, he’ll be faced with a choice. He must accept the unseen realm, the world beside this world, that he’d turned away from years ago or risk losing the woman he has come to love more than life itself.

Available Kindle

Available Print

            Review The Sparrow at goodreads

 

 

20 Facts About Teenagers

By Kristy McCaffrey

I currently live in a household with 4 teenagers, ranging in age from 13 to 19, both boys and girls. This doesn’t make me an expert. It does mean I’ve done bloody verbal battle over the most vexing subjects, such as why they must pay their own cell phone bill, or why they no longer like anything I make for dinner, or how I know nothing about dress codes. I love being told in a snide voice that of course they can wear super-short, strappy sundresses to school. So-and-so does it all the time. Gawd!

But here are a few things I do know, at least during the summer months.

Teenagers...

1. Will claim they aren’t lazy; they’re simply satisfied with the world around them. “My dirty room doesn’t bother me.”

2. Will rationalize not getting a job by admitting they just don’t have time. Waking up at noon really eats up the hours.

3. Believe electricity is free and should therefore be used 24 hours a day.

4.  Are leaving Facebook for Twitter because they’ve learned that their parents can’t stand cryptic one-liners covered in hashtags and therefore won’t creep on them in this confusing social media venue.

5. Are responsible for the heavy use of Netflix. Why watch all nine seasons of “The Office" if you can’t watch them again. And again. And again. (I feel Jim, Pam, Dwight, etc. are now some of my best friends.)

6. Will plot and scheme to get the next cell phone upgrade, even if it’s not theirs. Later, they will accuse their mom of stabbing them in the back when, because she hasn’t had a new phone in 5 years, innocently takes the next upgrade.

7. Will never admit that their disgust of you is equally measured by their need for you.

8. Will trap you in a conversation. Enter any discussion with a teenager with caution. Before you can blink, you’ll be accused of terrible, terrible things, such as being a racist or hating them or being obsessed with them succeeding at school. All because you asked if they’d be home for dinner.

9. Have seen any cute puppy photo or viral kid video months before you tell them about it.

10. Sleep more than newborns.

11. Are trapped in teenage logic—a most blissful state. In this world, fender benders are someone else’s fault, the airline will surely mail that cell phone left on the plane (so there’s no reason to rush back and try to retrieve it), and their parents will never find those 5 empty beer bottles hidden in their room.

12. Base their life views on “Family Guy,” their work views on “The Office” and their medieval views (and should I add sexual???) on “Game of Thrones.” The reach and impact of television should never be underestimated.

13. Are unable to see dog vomit.

14. Have no idea what a garbage can is.

15. Are far smarter than we give them credit—dealing with drugs, alcohol, peer pressure, social media, bullying, and parents who know nothing.

16. Are more naive and ignorant than they know—requiring firm and loving guidance, not just from parents but any adult in their life.

17. Have a schedule in their head that precludes any request you make of them, such as taking out the garbage or unloading the dishwasher. (The schedule generally looks like this: watch 6 episodes of “The Walking Dead” on Netflix, play 6 hours of Minecraft, eat 3 microwavable lean cuisine entrees and an entire bag of potato chips—leave trash for maid (mom) to clean up.) They’re so busy.

18. Will tell you they’re better off on their own.

19. View the hamper in their room as eye candy and not something functional.

20. Require that you pay attention, despite every effort to push you away. As young adults they’re making magic. If you don’t look, you’ll miss the magnificent and wonderful people they’re turning into. From wildly inventive photos on Instagram to building their own computers to studying physics because it’s so interesting, they’re becoming human beings that will one day change the world, big and small.

My teens before they were teens.

And this is why we resist eating our young, or at the very least sitting on them until they exhibit some common sense (which I saw a lion mom accomplish without an ounce of remorse on one of those cute animal videos).

With the whole world before them.

Grand Canyon

Post by Kristy McCaffrey     

            The amazing spectacle that is Grand Canyon, located in northern Arizona, has long defied description. And yet, there’s no shortage of writers who’ve attempted to convey the vast contours and depth of its landscape. Arizona author Leo W. Banks says, “All the descriptions written over the decades land with a dull thud next to the real thing. It’s because the Canyon is overwhelming. It is so personal, yet a beauty beyond us—a far world, unknown, and unknowable.”

            The first written accounts of the canyon date back to the 1500’s when the Spaniards entered Arizona and New Mexico in search of treasure. Garcia Lopez de Càrdenas, with the help of Hopi guides from the nearby mesas, became the first European to see Grand Canyon. Unable to cross the impassable void, however, he left frustrated.

Native American tribes have long occupied the area in and around the canyon, including the Anasazi (the early ancestors of the Hopi), as well as the Hualapai and Havasupai tribes, which occupy reservations in the western canyon. On the North Rim Paiutes worked closely with the Mormons who colonized southern Utah and the Arizona Strip in the 1850’s. The last American Indians to arrive at Grand Canyon were the Navajo, or the Dine (Athabascan people related to the Apache), who moved there from the Northwest around 1400 A.D.

            In 1857, Lieutenant Joseph Ives explored the area as part of a U.S. Army survey party, stating pessimistically that “the region is of course altogether valueless. Ours has been the first, and will doubtless be the last, party of whites to visit this profitless locality.” Ives was soon proved wrong.

John Wesley Powell

In 1869, Major John Wesley Powell, a Civil War veteran with only one arm, and nine companions became the first men to journey 1,000 miles on the Colorado River, part of it through Grand Canyon. They braved rapids, heat, plummeting morale, and the loss of three men. Powell’s account of this expedition, Exploration of the Colorado River of the West and Its Tributaries, made him a national hero as well as brought the canyon to the attention of the country. The Paiutes called the plateau that the canyon cuts through “Kaibab” or “Mountain Lying Down,” but it was Powell who first consistently used and published the name “Grand Canyon” in the 1870’s.

El Tovar Hotel

            Mining soon became popular but proved unprofitable due to the difficulty of extracting and transporting ore from the canyon to the rim. A more lucrative, and less dangerous, option presented itself in the form of tourism. In 1905 the famous El Tovar Hotel opened on the South Rim. In 1908 President Theodore Roosevelt declared Grand Canyon a national monument.

            Many stories and legends, some true, some exaggerated, have been told of Grand Canyon and the people who’ve entered its depths. Poet, wanderer, and writer Everett Ruess disappeared in the canyon at the age of 20 in 1934. He’s still searched for today and sung about by medicine men. His legacy is his writings: “I descended alone to the depths, to submerge myself in the steep silence, to be overcome by the fearful immensity, and to drown everything in the deafening roar of the Colorado, watching its snaking writhings and fire-tongued leapings until I was entranced.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My mom, my daughter Katy and I on the South Rim.

My book The Sparrow takes place in Grand Canyon in 1877. Texas Ranger Nathan Blackmore accompanies Emma Hart in a wooden dory down the Colorado River.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Scotland, 4 Teenagers, and Swearing

By Kristy McCaffrey

The Ring of Brodgar, Orkney Islands

My husband and I recently took our four children on a family vacation to Scotland. My goal was to see the Ring of Brodgar, a neolithic rock henge in the Orkney Islands and one of the most well-preserved prehistoric monuments on the British Isles. (See my previous blog post “The Earth: Power Points and Ley Lines.” These standing stones are located on a ley line.) My husband’s (Kevin's) goal was to visit the church where his great-grandparents were married, and to not hear how much this was costing him. The goal of each of my children varied. Ben (17) hoped to drink lots of beer in local pubs, which is allowed as long as he’s also eating. Katy (almost 16), our budding photographer, anticipated endless opportunities to add to her portfolio. Hannah (13) packed 3 sweatshirts with the goal of purchasing more, aided and abetted by my faulty memory, hindered further by jet lag. Upon our return home I found a total of seven in her suitcase. Sam (19) tried not to mope in misery at being away from his girlfriend. He succeeded half of the time. Our solution was to urge him to drink beer.

Edinburgh Castle

We began in Edinburgh, exhausted from an overnight flight and our inability to check into our hotel rooms. This would be a recurring problem throughout the trip—my propensity for booking early morning flights that left us without lodging until the afternoon when the rooms were ready. Already my family was loving me. Not. So a little swearing ensued, mostly from me. I will admit up front that my Irish temper (maiden name Kearney) gets the best of me at times and my children have learned most of their swearing from me. Never mind that my husband works in the steel industry and the kids have often eavesdropped on phone conversations he has with customers. I’m not pointing fingers.

Katy at Edinburgh Castle

Rosslyn Chapel

We have a nice time exploring Edinburgh Castle. Scotland is so different, with old buildings, overcast skies, and funky accents. Smashing! We visit Rosslyn Chapel, just outside Edinburgh, made famous by the book and movie “The Da Vinci Code.” It’s worth a look. In fact, if you check out Hannah’s Instagram account you can see illegal photos she took with her phone while inside. The building is very different than portrayed in the movie and as opposed to the hypothesis that Mary Magdalene was buried within, one theory suggests it was built as a reliquary to house the skull of St. Matthew, apostle of Jesus and gospel writer. That said, you’ll never see the inside of a chapel that looks like this one. The barrel-vaulted roof is covered with stars in relief, the faces of the Green Man (an important character from British folklore) peep at you from all sides, large pillars are wrapped in spiraling vines, everywhere are strange masks, dancers, musicians, and characters from the Old Testament.

Hannah on the train to Inverness
Photo by Katy McCaffrey

Loch Ness
Sam, Kevin and Ben (back)
Katy, Kristy and Hannah (front)

We leave Edinburgh by train to Inverness, the capital of the Highlands. This is the Scotland I imagine—rolling mountains amidst green farms, sheep, cattle, and that mist. The faerie mist. Why does Scotland make you believe in magic? Maybe it’s because it never gets dark here. Night falls from 11pm to 2am. If we don’t draw the shades we can’t sleep. It confuses further our already confused internal clocks. We tour Loch Ness, which I love. The story of the Loch Ness monster is over 1500 years old, the recent hoopla simply a marketing cash cow. Urquhart Castle, dating back to the 13^th century, sits on the lake’s edge and is one of the most visited castles in Scotland.

Urquhart Castle
Ben, Katy, Sam and Hannah

Kevin and I at Urquhart Castle

We fly to the town of Kirkwall, in the Orkney Islands, in a small propeller plane. While the Orkney’s are now a part of Scotland, prior to the 15^th century they were governed by Norway. This is Viking country. Perhaps this is why my children come to blows here. At each hotel we have three rooms—one for my husband and I, and one each for the boys and the girls. But Sam, who has so far resisted our beer-drinking attempts, is fed up with Ben. He swears too much, Sam says. Sam is sick of it. (Not to defend Ben’s colorful language, but in addition to having me as his mother he has also attended an all-boys boarding school for the past three years. Within the span of a week he began speaking like a sailor and hasn’t stopped since.) Turns out Katy is also unhappy with her roommate. It would seem that Hannah has been known to fling an invective at her sister from time to time on the trip. Sam wants to room with Katy and begins negotiations in earnest. I frown. Should brothers and sisters be sharing rooms? But teenage logic prevails. This is a philosophy coined by my husband to explain the smart, insightful decisions that teenagers make, such as claiming that 90mph on a motorcycle is a perfectly acceptable speed, or showing genuine shock when a window is broken after playing lacrosse in their bedroom, or wondering why the competitive team never called after repeatedly blowing off soccer practice.

Maeshowe, Orkney Islands

In Orkney we visit Maeshowe, a neolithic chambered tomb built 5000 years ago and lined up to the winter solstice. What’s intriguing about this one (a similar mound, Newgrange, exists in Ireland) is the Viking graffiti, carved about 1000 years ago and comprising the largest collection of runic inscriptions found outside Scandinavia. With witty one-liners like “Otarr carved these runes” there are also more vulgar descriptions. I have an epiphany. Vikings must have been teenagers. We’re in good company. Swearing spans the ages.

From atop Stirling Castle
Hannah, Kristy and Katy

My husband at
St. Joseph's Church in Blantyre

We finish the Scotland portion of our trip in Glasgow, taking a very touristy bus ride around the city. We return to the University of Glasgow twice because Hannah really needs another sweatshirt. In the suburb of Blantyre we find the church where my husband’s great-grandparents, Robert Gaitens and Jeanie Dobbin, were married in 1897. Well, kinda. This church was built in 1908 so the original is no longer standing. Close enough. The purpose for my husband visiting Scotland is complete. We take the kids to Stirling Castle, north of Glasgow, perched on a high volcanic crag. With unimpeded views in all directions of the countryside, it’s no wonder this was the seat of Scottish kings and queens for centuries.

The final leg of our journey takes us to Dublin, Ireland. Ben, with true teenage logic, plans to apply to Trinity College (aka the University of Dublin), because, well, it’d be so cool to go to college in a different country. So one afternoon we have a nice chat with a professor from the Computer Science Department. We also take the kids to see the Book of Kells, a lavishly decorated copy of the four gospels in Latin, likely produced early in the 9^th century. I have another wonderful teenage interchange with Katy.

“Why are we here?” she asks.

“To see the Book of Kells,” I say.

“Just tell me why we’re here.”

“To see a book.”

“But what is it?!”

“It’s a BOOK!!”

Just as I’m on the verge of swearing—what part of this does she not understand?—my husband steps in. He points out that books are no big deal to her generation. Ahh. Okay. I explain to her that back then tomes such as this had to be hand-written and were few in number. This is one of the most beautiful works ever created. She still seems unconvinced and blows through the exhibit. I purse my lips—it’s so unattractive if I stand there uttering profanities to myself—and attempt to enjoy this wondrous presentation while calming my blood pressure.

Urquhart Castle on Loch Ness

On our last evening we dine together at the hotel restaurant. It’s not often we’re together as a family. It’s one of the reasons I planned this trip, why I spent my husband’s hard-earned money, why I endured teenage griping about everything from the weather to why we had to visit yet another old church. As my children have grown, one of the best aspects is getting to know them, to hear their viewpoints, to watch their intellect blossom. When they were toddlers family conversations often turned to poop and farting. It’s rather comforting to know that as teenagers their repertoire still encompasses poop and farting, only now there’s a nice dose of cussing in the mix. As the conversation becomes littered with colorful language my husband decides he’s had enough. He sends everyone to their rooms—boy and girl, boy and girl. I can’t stop laughing. I’m tired of living out of a suitcase and eating hotel food, I’m glad I don’t have to flush another Scottish toilet (seriously, I could never get them to work), I’m glad I can stop waiting and waiting for the check at the end of a meal (a waiter feels it’s rude to bring the bill, you must ASK for it), I’m glad to know that lemonade is code for 7-Up (can’t they just call it 7-Up?), and I’m glad that soon I’ll be able to find a nice glass of ice tea (nonexistent here). Still, I’m sorry to see the trip end, swearing and all. It’s the stuff of memories.