whenever someone catches me on IM these days, they ask me how things are going with my travels, which is kind of them, and i say something like “good! [vague comment about settling into hotel, being in the middle of nowhere, etc.]… pause… [consider to self whether more detail is necessary… decide to talk about random subject x instead].”

sometimes i blogdrop myself, but that always makes me feel like a bit of an asshole, even though i try hard to use my just-a-friendly-reminder voice.

and then there’s the fact that i’m not really writing that much, and most of what i write isn’t really about how i am, so i can’t really expect people to know much even if they Are [nice/bored/OCD] enough to be checking in here on a regular basis.

so i hereby present a post that will hopefully help me to bust the cycle of my silly posting paralysis (which, i realize, could punnily be described as “post mortem,” but i’m not going to say that aloud).

ahem

Dear Mom, Dad, Wally, the Beav, Aunt Bea, Opie, and the blogosphere,

Things are pretty quiet here at Camp Hollytree, and I’m starting to get used to the pace even though we have rather unpredictable schedules. The two other in-house staff – Lauren and Tania (both from New Zealand) – are very nice, and we are doing our best to make our own fun in Kentallen and Ballachulish. Assisting us in this quest are the friendly locals who work in the hotel – Aisling, Lyn, David, Charlotte, Giem and Jack. Charlotte, Giem and Jack are underage, and Lyn has just left to go back to Uni, so Aisling and David are our principal guides for the moments, and it is definitely nice to have them.

No jumps in the loch yet, despite inspiration from a few Frenchmen who stayed here a week or so ago and did some skinnydipping on their lunch break, and from Erik, submitting from Colorado on his way out West. I am determined to get in the water before I leave, and it’s only going to get colder so I best act fast. The trouble is that everyone else considers the idea completely ridiculous, so I guess I’m just going to have to take the plunge by myself. When my C-card comes, I also hope to go for a dive, but swimming sans dry suit really is a wholly separate list item, so I think I will just have to do both.

Last week Tania and I finally made it to visit the fabled bungalow down the road that we were only recently told is an additional place where staff can live, if they so choose. It has it’s own kitchen (complete with dishwasher!), laundry facilities, and a bathroom with a tub, which is quite luxurious. It also has a pool table, a radio, and a view of the loch, which means that it is pretty much heaven, for all current intents and purposes.

Though I reckon heaven would probably be closer to a grocery store.

All in all, the adventure was a great success, and I am quite sure that we would move there in a second if the road were less scary, or the bikes were less crappy, or the weather wasn’t so frequently nasty, or we didn’t so often start at 8 and/or end at 11, or… well, that’s enough. Circumstances being as they are, however, I expect that we will continue to opt for the “just roll out of bed and walk down the stairs” option, though not without a bit of regret.

If we don’t get there on at least half of our days off, however, I will consider us slugs.

Speaking of days off, my next one is tomorrow, and Lauren has it off as well. We want to climb as much of Ben Nevis as we can manage, because it just seems like something that needs to be done while we’re here, and the weather ain’t gettin’ any warmer. But it looks as if it will rain tomorrow, and Lauren had an ominous dream involving a cliff of mussels, so we will most likely save it for next time.

Which, according to my formula, means that we should go play pool at the bungalow. Woohoo!

Friday we attempted to go to a Céilidh, which I was quite excited about, having missed 10 weekly contra dances now, and counting. I did a little bit of research into contra dancing over here, but the only regular dances I found are in London and Leeds, so no luck for the moment. A good local Céilidh would definitely suffice, though, and apparently they happen pretty often, so there is no excuse for not going to at least one while I’m here. This time, however, we showed up after work at about 11, and, after looking in the window, Aisling pronounced it boring on account of it being entirely composed of old people, none of whom were dancing, so we went across the street to the pub instead, with the plan of going back later. The last céilidh apparently lasted until 4 am, so it seemed like there was a good chance that it would pick up again after a bit. This did not end up happening, however, so we will simply have to try again next time.

I just realized that this letter is all about almost doing fun things, and then not doing them, for one reason or another…

That’s depressingly illuminating.

I will take it as a mission to actually accomplish something before next week, at which point I will write again, and hopefully the letter will be shorter, because there will be less catching up to do.

Until then, enjoy your cake!

Love, Kynthia

This entry was posted on Monday, September 25th, 2006 at 2:15 pm and is filed under things i do, travel. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.