A Scottish Summer

In the 16 summers I've spent here, this is most definitely the hottest, sunniest, wonderfullest. It's not just that there are good days between rainy days, no, there's weeks of sunshine. There were summers where our BBQ did not manage to make a single appearance, now, it's becoming the staple ingredient of evening meals (ok, mostly weekends). Usually, a sunny day is so unusual that all has to be done to make the most of it, now we can take it easy and relax knowing that there's at least another week like this ahead of us.

Today, I've been in the Scottish Atlantic for the first time ever and thought it was pleasantly warm. The difference to what it usually feels like to dip your toes (and usually no more) into the Atlantic is quite astounding.

We had plans for the day but the kids knew what they wanted: Beach. And since everyone seems to go to Troon (and we'd never been), this is where we went. It occurred to me that 2 years ago I travelled first by plane and then on a 7 hour train, followed by a one hour ferry journey to see a similar scenery, when actually, the scenery is just a 1 hour car journey away. And of course, having the Arran mountains as a backdrop makes it particularly special.

Sandy beach, mudflats, tideways to splash in, and lots of memories of Foehr and marvelling how we have grown. Dad burried in sand, crabs and shrimps caught and released, water channels built and the tiniest sand castles too.

This summer may be one in a generation, but man, how good can Scotland be if the sun is out.

Little Miss Blether is sick

The sun is shining, my nose is running. It must be spring in Germany.
Although I'm used to travelling at this time of the year, once again I forgot:
-antihistamines and inhaler, so I'm sneezing and coughing away
-sun hats for the kids, meaning that I have to buy them to add to their collection of sun hats bought in Germany
-suitable clothes for 20 degrees plus, because I simply can't imagine it could ever be so warm in April that my Scottish summer clothes are too thick. They are.

To start off our holiday, Cubling took sick. Since Snowflake fell ill with Meningitis and I didn't suspect anything seriously wrong with her at the time, waiting a full hour before phoning NHS24 and talking them into her not needing an ambulance (how wrong was I), seeing Cubling with a distant stare and unresponsiveness triggered me to call an ambulance.

Of course it was a bit hasty (though to be fair, the emergency doctor recommended transfer to the hospital, so it wasn't just my call) and she turned out to be fine. Well, relatively.
At the hospital I could see those looks implying she's mad that mum to take her here for a bit of an infection, until she did the collapsing, not responding, staring and rolling eye thing again and discharge was postponed for another hour. See, told you so.

Then they managed to mislay the European Health Card between ambulance and hospital, and I still don't have it back. So I may be faced with a private treatment bill, which, considering the ambulance turned up with 5 people, surely will be hefty.

Cubling was very sick for two days, greyfaced, feverish, sicky, no appetite, coughing and above all quiet. Little Miss Blether gone all quiet, something must be very very wrong I tell you. Loving mum that I am, I met up with a friend and plonked her on a chair at a restaurant. She stayed there all the time and friend and I had a really long chat. How unusual, how wonderous.


Main thing of course is that she is well again, though now Snowflake has the coughs again, after a week of a break. Little Miss Worry that I am, I've had two nights of almost no sleep listening to her every breath, holding her up so she can breathe a tad more easily.

And then there's the issue of getting about to see people, but that's another story altogether...