Showing posts with label beard comments. Show all posts
Showing posts with label beard comments. Show all posts

Thursday, April 05, 2012

...And... the Cutest Person in a Hairnet EVER Award goes to....

Marie!!She rocked it better than anyone else! We took Joel's parents on a Theo Chocolate Factory tour the other day. It was wonderful... besides eating lots of chocolate, it's interesting to see the process of making chocolate. They really focus on the reasons they are organic and fair trade, and by the end I am pretty sure I'm not the only one who pledges to herself to stop buying chocolate that isn't fair trade. They are the first organic fair-trade chocolate makers in the US, and they are here in Seattle! We will take each of you there when you visit us.

They also made Joel wear 2 (!!) beard-nets this time, because one just doesn't cover it all!

Monday, June 30, 2008

Crookston Castle

Crookston Castle
OK, let's see if I can get a couple more 'travel' and 'local culture' posts in before my parents arrive on Wednesday! Back in May, when it was still summer, Heather and I had a free Saturday. There are still a few castle/ruin-y places around Glasgow we have been meaning to visit, so we decided on Crookston Castle, near Paisley. Rumors of Paisley's quality charity shops/thrift stores may have influenced our decision. The Antonine Wall will have to wait for another day...

Heather at the top of Crookston Castle
Heather descendsHeather descends further!
I won't say too much about the castle. It was built by the Stewarts in about 1400, but got pretty badly damaged early on in its history. It has a nice tower from which you can see the Campsie Fells, a little of Glasgow, and a lot of housing schemes. The moat is pretty cool, but the grounds around the castle tend to be frequented (especially on sunny days) by large groups of intimidating adolescents. The ones playing football/soccer aren't bad, but the ones with cases of Stella are less hospitable. This may be why the castle caretaker has an Alsatian/German Shepherd.

This is one of the better ruins we've been to, slightly nicer than Bothwell Castle, we think. This is mainly because you can climb up so high in the tower.

Once we got back to Paisley, we weren't able to find the amazing charity shops, but I did get a record number of beard comments for one day. None were incredibly original, so I won't bother to post them here.

Friday, May 09, 2008

Names I Have Been Called

Jesus: Is He really a true Irishman?
Since moving to Glasgow, the variety in names I'm called by strangers has increased dramatically. In Seattle, I admit, the 'Jesus' count was pretty high, but, other than one lady on the Ave who asked me if I was a 'true Irishman', Seattleites have been fairly unimaginative.

Contrary to the opinions of many Americans, I actually do not 'fit in perfectly' in Scotland, and my (suave? distinctive? grotesque?) appearance has elicited comments from people on the street with surprising frequency. Among the more imaginative names I can now claim - in addition to a still-rising 'Jesus' count - are 'Hillbilly Willy', 'Scooby Doo', and, oddly, 'Kelsey' (the person who called me 'Kelsey' also asked if my thumb was broken and whether I was Amish). Other helpful comments directed my way have included 'your face is on fire' and 'look at the state of him...'

Yesterday was a two-pointer, with one more 'Jesus' and an entirely new one to my experience: 'Worzel Gummidge'. I was particularly surprised at this last comment, because, personally, I had never seen the resemblance. For those of you who don't know (probably nearly everyone who reads this), Worzel Gummidge was the main character in a British children's TV show from the 1970s. He was played by John Pertwee, who some of you (Dad?) will recognize as the third (and third least annoying) Doctor Who. The Worzel Gummidge character is perhaps even more perplexing than the Doctor: he is a mischievous talking scarecrow with a set of interchangeable heads. My friend James' experience verifies that, despite the (ostensible) good intentions of the show's writers, such disturbing imagery often had a traumatic effect on children.

Presumably, my similarity to Worzel Gummidge is limited to my shaggy hair (time for a trim) and possession of a hat. I'd like to think that my Glaswegian commenter regards me as a potential friend, a welcome addition to West End culture, rather than a macabre pastoral oddity.

P.S. Here are some clips from the show, if you like to scare yourself:

  • The introduction
  • A frightening song after which Worzel Gummidge verbally abuses children. Observe their terrified expressions.
  • Part of a distressing episode involving a seesaw and free tobbacco

Which is the real Worzel Gummidge?