I'll tek the hee rood and yul tek the lew rood.

With all the logistics sorted out yesterday, we were free to enjoy a whole day of sightseeing with even an afternoon of rest. Here's the fun things I learned today. First off, um, the English and Scottish don't agree on "history". Down there, Great Britain is glorious. Up here, hmmmm . . . not bad but we've had better. As evidenced by the window in St. Giles Cathedral, there are bagpipes in heaven. Thank goodness! I was worried we'd all have to sit and strum harps all day. The queen has way too many palaces (another one here in Edinburgh, Holyrood House) and Mary Queen of Scots was a real piece of work. I also learned that deep fat fried brie with currant jam is delicious and fry sauce is apparently not just from Utah. It can also be found at The Peacock Inn, est. 1763 in Edinburgh. I'm sad I missed out on an Antarctic exhibit that starts on Friday. But perhaps I saved myself from an afternoon of THIS!

Rule Brittania, sitting pretty in Edinburgh.

After spending a half hour this morning googling, mapping, viewing the hotel from outer space, and drawing pictures, we drove four hours up to Edinburgh and straight, straight, straight to the hotel. Boo-yah! Must be that natural street scrambling talent finally exerting itself. We also saw splendid street signs such as "Keep your distance", "Tiredness can kill", and "Frustration causes accidents". Well said! In Edinburgh, since we were in the north bit of town, we decided to tour the Royal Yacht Brittania that was put out to the proverbial pasture in 1997 to the Firth of Fourth (the big sound). It's a great little boat but wow. Being a royal must be a dead dead dead bore bore bore. Apparently, they sometimes set up an inflatable pool on the back deck but otherwise, piano playing and whist. Yeah seriously, whist. But I guess a perk is that you can bring your Rolls Royce with you, yeah? Well, then off into Edinburgh proper to see the National Scottish Museum. Amazing and even a hat's off to our old pal Macbeth himself. The best thing about today was the torrential mists. Oh snif snif, it felt just like home in Seattle. Even down to the same parking meters and fun bus time and Starbucks. But oh, the "chicken fillet bites" for dinner (chicken battered and fried and served with chips) were delicious. Good thing there's a lot of walking! Yum!

Today is brought to you by the letter M.

This morning, we set out from Manchester to visit the big old Minster at York. This was a spectacular drive past Leeds on the M60, M62, and M1, through a back town with narrow stone roads, and flying by the seat of our pants to a park and ride. This may seem like boring trip report minutiae but it is seriously a big deal for us. York Minster is breathtaking. There are more little bits of medieval glass in this building than in the rest of the world. They actually pulled all the windows during WWII, stored 'em in houses in the region, and put them back in when Hitler was defeated. After stopping for a peppered steak pasty (meat!), we went on a walking tour of York where we heard about how the Romans, then the Vikings, then the Anglo Saxons, then the Normans, then the House of York, and then the Tudors, and then the and then the etc. built here. And it's all sitting in town. It was also super windy and since we're nearly out on the moors, you can easily imagine how Jane Eyre would have heard Mr. Rochester calling her name, saving her from a super boring trip with that loser St. John Rivers. We also saw where Dame Judy Dench (M in Bond or really, Jean of As Time Goes By fame) got her acting start at the age of 15. But the real story today is getting to the hotel. For the past three nights, it is taking an average of two hours to find the hotel once were within ten minutes. How is this possible? How can we be so daft? Well, as I said for Birmingham, the hotel and the car park were three blocks apart in the middle of a complicated scramble of one-way streets. For Manchester, a shocking (Seattle-like) lack of street signs meant that we had to double back twice for each of the five roads we had to find. And for Harrogate, just outside York, this one's really good. The google directions led us to an apartment building set back off the street across from a hardware store. After going down all four arms of a central roundabout, we finally parked, jogged across a park, tracked down three policemen, and found that our hotel was just down the road with the only sign for the hotel in the back alley. It's not that we're Americans, Brits in line at the reception also said that it took them just as long to find it. I really love an adventure and a challenge. Tomorrow we're going to Edinburgh. The goal? Find the hotel in under 90 minutes! (Pictures to come, the internet is slow tonight.)

Are the shades of Pemberley to be thus polluted?

So this morning we headed up to a Birmingham Ward and had the real delight of hearing a Sunday School teacher with a Jim Dale-esque accent talk about our back yard (Salt Lake) in great detail. Although it sounded odd to hear so much about what I've viewed as Americanish history (BY the man crossing the plains) in a British accent, the truth of the matter is is that all those pioneers were in majority, British. What would have happened without those plucky and brave Brits taking on the task of crossing an ocean of water and then an ocean of prairie? Rule Brittania folks. Then, we got to see a primary program in action for Sacrament meeting which was followed by the second counselor closing the meeting with "That was wonderful, I think we all enjoyed it. Yes?" and then the congregation answering en masse "Yes!". Terrific! A super cute guy in front of me turned around and apologized for the counselor's behavior and mentioned that he was new. Silly handsome man, there are counselor's like that everywhere! Then, one of the members of the ward drove us out to New Hall, which was built in the 1300s. The rest of the day was spent driving through the idyllic hills of the Peak District and touring Chatsworth House, home to the Duke and Duchess of Devonshire. Nice work if you can get it I think. Here's the grand staircase inside. And here is where the Duke and all his high nobility peerage pals have dinner. This house was used as Pemberley for the uh, I think for the one with Keira Knightley. Before hitting up Manchester and a delicious dinner of gammon and peppercorn sauce and chocolate cake (yup, British food is good again), we swung by Lyme Park, home to the A&E Pemberley. Sadly, the gardens were closed so I couldn't see the iconic back of the house but I can imagine Colin Firth wandering around back there so it was another great day.

Or, if you're tired of London, you're probably from Warwick.

So this morning, we climbed to the tippie top of St. Paul's which is only about 530 steps up tiny stone spiral staircases. Then, we rented a car and yikesies yowzahs, drove crazy town up the left side of the street. Here's the ultra-bizarre feeling of sitting on the left side of the car and not have to do anything. I checked the rear view mirror out of habit about 17 times before we had even left the London suburbs. Seriously folks, not only do you need to remember that although (thank goodness!) the clutch, brake, and gas pedal (petrol pedal?) are all in the same place, you have the stick on the left, exits to freeways on the left, cars racing at double your speed, and roundabouts at a billion light years per second. And the roads my friends. Here's the best description. Take one giant pot of water and boil it. Then throw in about two pounds of superfine vermicelli pasta. Cook until al dente and strain off water. Then, throw the entire mess at the wall. Now take hold of one end of a strand. Without moving anything else, find the other end of that same piece at 70 mph. (It is mph here sometimes.) All in all, with my dad driving and me checking three sets of maps as well as the roads at all times, we do alright. Granted, it took five different sets of directions and two hours (including "drive to the bullseye and keep to the left, it's right there"), but what could you expect with a bunch of one way roads and a hotel in a pedestrian only zone and the car park three blocks away tucked under a train station . . . at night? I love an adventure! It's like orienteering advanced. Okay. Sorry. On to Warwick! So before we settled into the mess in Manchester tonight, we skipped Stratford-upon-Avon (birthplace of the defamer of our family name) and went to a medieval castle known as Warwick. First on the docket was a trebuchet demonstration. This was amazing. Basically four guys crawl inside the big wheels at the bottom and run like hamsters to wind up the trebuchet and lower the arm to the left. Then they soak a fabric wrapped ball in fuel and light in on fire. And then, they launch it arcing 200 yards down field. What were they doing? Preparing for the siege on London! Those Warwickers hated the town down south back then. Back up the hill at the castle, it was time to tour the grand hall. Nothing like a good ole joust during din din, eh? We also climbed another 250 stairs up and 250 stairs down to walk along the tower walls where we could see some archers practicing shooting rats (not real ones, sadly enough). The most sobering piece was the gaol. Down some dank narrow stairs to the bottom of the tower. A small dungeon just twenty by twenty, it had a narrow gutter running through the center which was used as a 13th century bidet. But without the water. In the side, there was a small small alcove with a small small pit. A legit oubliette where they would bundle up a prisoner they really hated and lower them down and forget about them. In the solid stone walls of the goal, there were crosses rubbed and scratched in. It must have been a putrescent hell down there and you definitely didn't want to be from London, or York (the enemy in the War of Roses). Well, up and out of Warwick, we stopped by "The Porridge Pot Pizza Express" for dinner. Even though we "hadn't booked a tour" we still got a seat for an amazing bruschetta, a delicious pizza with pancetta and peppers, and bright lemon tart. I defend the British and their cooking even though I may have said otherwise in the past.

If you're tired of London, you're tired of life.

Which is according to Dame Judy Dench and I agree. What a great town this this is. This is my third visit to the British metropolis and I could spend a lifetime riding around on the underground and not dealing with traffic. Genius! Well, for this trip, we went to Westminster Abbey and toured the innards of nearby Houses of Parliament. I'd never done the second and it is unbelievable in there. Giant hammerbeam ceiling entrance way built in the 1000s (the 1000s) moving on to the Houses of Lords and Commons. We also took a short day trip up to Cambridge where I had an interview at a lab up there. After waiting for a bus from the town centre out to the west campus for over thirty minutes, I decided to just walk the two miles, ending up over 45 minutes late for my interview. Fortunately it apparently didn't reflect too poorly since the PI told me that if I wanted a post there, I could have it. So, we'll see. On the way back to London, we grabbed a Cornish pasty full of meat, onions, and cheese which I think was the best part of the day. Which either speaks to my reticence to move to the middle of nowheresville Cambridge or just how good and how hungry I was after two days of travel/jet lag/airplane food/light snack stuff. While in London, we also stopped by Trafalgar Square and toured some pretty nice digs known as Buckingham Palace. What a great little bit of land. Oh, but maybe also the best part of the trip was walking from the Tower of London to St. Paul's during the lunch break. For those of you familiar with London, you'll know that this is the area known as "The City" which is basically the financial district. For those of you familiar with me, you'll know that this meant a nice walk passing by dozens and dozens of gorgeous British men in sharp suits. What a great city!

Nothing like a hike down by not hiking up.

Up at Sundance is this fantastic little deal where you can ride the ski lift up the hill and then just lazily meander back down the mountain all for the price of a venti triple chociatto whosie-whatsit blah blah from SBUX. With a beautiful Saturday morning on our hands, my parents and I drove up the canyon to admire the view from thirty-six feet off the ground. The scrub oaks are blazing red but the quaking aspens haven't made it into fall yet. Just the same, it was a nice little hike down to Stuart Falls and back to the parking lot where we could admire all the Seminoles in town for the BYU football game. At Sundance, they also do mountain biking where you rent all your gear, take the lift up, and then either speed or tumble head over handle bars down the mountain (dependent on your skill level). On my list to do, don't know if I'll get it in though.

Erm, hum. Let's take that picture again.

So tonight I got to go out to dinner and see my dear college roommates from my junior year at BYU, Lacey, Darci, and Barbara (L to R). These three, particularly Darci since we were roommates our senior year as well plus a very memorable five week escapade across Europe, are just so spectacular and stand out and shine among the myriad of housemates I've had. (Given the decade spent as a nomadic Bedouin, I've had many good ones.) At any rate, we met up in Salt Lake and caught up with how we're all doing since it's been two years since I last saw them. All three are juggling a bazillion things along with Lacey convincing me to become her sister-in-law, Darci regaling us with the horrors of an HOA, and Barbara instructing us on the finer points of getting out of speeding tickets (she's never been pulled over but is married to an officer of the law). We decided to get our picture taken by the manager of the little cafe we were at. He took the above picture, saw it, and said, "Erm, hum. Let's take that picture again." We all burst out laughing and he took another and said, "Oh that's better." Really? Thanks you guys, it was wonderful to see you!

It's 88!

Tonight was my grandmother's 88th birthday party. She's an amazing dynamo that reminds me how great it is be a hard worker. She still gets up early, works in the garden for several hours, does name extractions for a few more hours, hits the weights at the gym, climbs mountains, kayaks rivers, and still has enough time to keep up with several different college football teams and what they should do about their coaching staff or left tackle. Tires me out just typing all that she does. Maybe when I'm 88 I'll buck up and get that much done. Right now, it's all I can do to make sure I get Matlock in while I'm on vacay. Well, for her party, my parents made delicious smoked pulled pork sandwiches, salad, rolls, baked beans, and lots and lots of cakes. I was in charge of decorations and you know I love event planning. So I ran down and got balloons to backdrop the yard, made little flags saying "happy birthday genevieve r. moulton 88" to stick into the top of watermelon wedges for every plate, and got the music going. As I drove my grandma down from the Teton's earlier this week I ran through music choices. She didn't really want Beyonce so I decided to opt for a Pandora blend from Benny Goodman. Turns out the party rocked. But how could it be otherwise with such a wonderful woman of the hour. Here she is with my cousin Tom.

A Grand Weekend Out

Every Labor Day, we head up into the wilds of Wyoming to stare at the mountains. I don't think I'll ever get tired of looking at 'em. Well this year was something else since we had kayaks with us. While we were there, we kayked both on String Lake and also on the headwaters of the Snake River as it tumbles out of Jackson Lake. The trip on String was spent careening around while my 5-year-old nephew Carson acted as the Harbor Master, even going so far as to refuse to take a ride in case one of the other boats needed help landing. The trip down the Snake involved me paddling my 88-year-old grandmother, or maybe I made her paddle while I relaxed, I don't remember, while we kept our eyes peeled for wildlife. I've been to the Teton's a lot and have seen a lot of wildlife including bears, elk, moose, and marmots but I think what I saw this time takes the cake. Er, this is somewhat ridiculous but my Dad and I (aunt, uncle, mom, and grandma missed it) saw an osprey fly out of his nest to perch in a tree downriver, lift his tail feathers, and let his digestions fly. It shot out in a two to three foot stream that spun and then broke apart as it fell to the ground. Fantastic! Oh, and here are some pictures of the trip. Please notice that in the Teton's, handicapped vehicles are first, hybrid vehicles are second. But sadly no picture of the osprey. Well the quality isn't tops but then again, computers can sense that they can do what they want to me. They're like horses. And sharks. They can smell fear. As a side note. I once had a day where five different computers crashed on me. Not the same one five times, five different.

40 days and 40 nights

Hooray! I'm officially on vacaliday. It's like vacation. It's like holiday. It sounds like a muscle relaxant. It's my 40 day break from lab! My original plan after graduating last June was to work through the summer and be done September 1 lock, stock, barrel, and bullets. But as I was concerned about whether or not to look for a post-doctoral fellowships or contact the grounds crew at the El Quemado Por El Sol in Cancun, I decided that perhaps for once, it was time to chat with the boss about what I should do for the next few years. Solution? Work October, November, December but take all of September off for a lot of R and R where the first "R" stands for "Relaxing" and the second R stands for "Relaxation". The time back in lab would give me enough time to find a postdoc and finish up some publications. I'm not really thinking about the 10th, 11th, or 12th month of the year because I'm focused on not doing anything but catch up with my friends and family and enjoy some well deserved time off. Like I said, play hard.