Hopetoun House & the Hunt for Puffins

We began this chilly morn near Queensferry, at Hopetoun House, a beautiful manor house that lies close to the Firth of Forth.  The house was magnificent, and the inside details were reminiscent of the recent PBS series, Downton Abbey.

The female guides located in the house were delightful, each one eager to share some history associated with the house. The downstairs guide explained some unusual details of the house, and I couldn't help but chuckle when she described  a "Bonnie" well-carved doorframe at the top of the stairs, installed by a "chap" named Bruce.

Personally, I find the word "chap" to sound so much more genteel than the word "bloke", but that is certainly only my opinion.  In case you are wondering, that door is constructed from Scotch Pine.

The interior was intricately decorated and each room had a unique feature of interest.

One of the bedrooms:

The dining room:

Calling bells for the servants in the Butler's Pantry.

Some interesting wall decor:

And a beautiful view of the Firth of Forth from the roof:

The grounds were filled with gardens, surrounded by fields filled with sheep grazing in the distance.

 We could have easily spent the day enjoying the beauty of the surroundings. 

But, we had bigger ventures planned and so we hopped in the car and drove the few miles into Queensferry where we embarked by boat for Inchcolm Abbey. 

If I told you that we were headed to Inchcolm Island, I would be redundant, as I learned that the word "inch" is actually Gaelic for island.  So, we were headed for the Island of Colm.

When Stacey set up this trip, she had no idea that temperatures in Scotland could be so frigid in April.  But we bundled up as best we could and set off for this island that features the Abbey.

We were told that we might even spot Puffins, which are known to inhabit the island, and we were ready to face the challenge of finding them.

The island is about 4 miles east of Queensferry and the view upon approach is phenomenal.  

After we were dropped off, we had 90 minutes to explore the island before our transport boat would return to pick us up.

The abbey began as a Monastery, built by David I.  His brother, Alexander I, had been sheltered here during a storm, and in thanks, promised to build a monastery.  But he died prematurely, and his brother made certain that the promise was fulfilled.  In 1235, the dwellings were raised to full Abbey status and were occupied by Augustinian monks.

Obviously, this is not a monk, but Marty contemplating some of the important features of the chapel.

After exploring the Abbey, we set out on our search for Puffins.  We couldn't help but notice that we were being carefully scrutinized as we walked along, hoping for a glimpse of just one Puffin.

Marty was on a real quest, scoping out every possible spot where he thought that a Puffin might set up home.

This is not a wave of triumph.

Rather, this is Marty letting us know that he was coming back down from his climb, as it was almost time to embark upon our journey back to Queensferry.

And, so, we bid farewell to this lovely island without nary a sight of a Puffin.  We were just a wee bit disappointed.  But, this guy decided to cheer us up on our way back to the port:

Suddenly our search for Puffins was forgotten as we were entertained by this large grey seal who actually gave a wave our way as we were passing by.

Who needs Puffins, anyway?

Chillin' Castles

Don't you just love the panoramic setting on my little sony camera?  Kind of makes you feel like  you are standing right there, doesn't it?

This is Loch Leven Castle, one of several castle where Mary, Queen of Scots, was held captive, and in this particular castle, she was forced to sign a paper of abdication.  

Mary's captors went to great lengths to keep her isolated, and this particular castle is located in the middle of a loch (lake as we know it) and is only accessible by boat.  

As we loaded into the boat for transport to the castle grounds, snowflakes started to fall, so you can only imagine how frigid we felt motoring the 10 minutes from start to finish.  

The palace looks so serene as you approach it from the water.

The grounds are nature at its best.  Swans were floating on the lake.  A kingfisher swooped by and this pheasant was having a great conversation with his friend who was hiding somewhere nearby.

And the lake is apparently filled with some kind of unique brown trout, but that was of way more interest to Marty than to me. 

Knowing some of the history of Mary, Queen of Scots, this castle just didn't seem large enough to hold the entourage that accompanied her during her captivity, as well as the family that lived in the house.  And it's hard to believe that she even managed to escape across the loch from captivity here, although she was soon captured afterwards.  Being rowed across that loch must have seemed an eternity to her.

From the photo, you may be deceived into thinking that the weather suddenly changed and that we were lucky enough to warm up a bit. No such luck!  The weather changed from cold and sunny to frigid and snowy several times while we visited the island. 

And, I love the fact that my cohorts for the day were prepared for the weather.

With our teeth chattering, we were eager to make the trip back to the mainland and warm up somewhere.  My original plan was for us to hike "Mary's Gate Trail" along the Loch, but the weather was way too frigid for enjoyment so we decided to drive to Dollar Glen and check out another castle, this one located way up on the top of a cliff.

The entrance to the castle was not easy to find, so we stopped to asked directions.  I no sooner rolled down the window when the man who was washing his car looked at me and said, "Castle Campbell?"  I nodded to which he said, "Not to worry...I have someone ask me nearly every day."  He directed us back down the hill to a very narrow road that was bordered by 6 ft. high stone walls.  

We found ourselves climbing this narrow road for quite awhile until we came to a car park where we parked and began the hike to the castle grounds.

I have to admit, it was pretty spectacular.  High up on a cliff, it made one wonder how anyone actually managed to visit.  Once again, we were told that Mary, Queen of Scots was a guest at a wedding at this castle.  She certainly got around, considering her limited mode of transportation in the 1500's.

We toured the interior then hiked along the ground taking advantage of sunny moment opportunities to capture photos such as this panorama.  

Once again, snowflakes began to fall as we walked the castle grounds.  Typical Scottish weather.

We certainly enjoyed finding ourselves engrossed in some fascinating Scottish History.  And the guide at the castle was extremely friendly, giving us a personal talk on the history of the castle  and directing us to some significant features.

The drive back to our hotel was surreal, passing flocks of sheep grazing on the hills and watching the frolicking of tiny lambs enjoying the day.  We couldn't help but smile.

And then we passed this:

Giant Iris along the road near Glenrothes.  I'll bet you weren't expecting to see that. 

And that's why I took the photo.  Hope you found it entertaining.

Scottish history

What's that you say?  Your eyes do not deceive you. You are gazing upon the sign for the Family History Center in Edinburgh, Scotland.  It wasn't too difficult feeling right at home there among microfilm and fiche and stacks of reference books. After all, those of you who know me well, know that I enjoy volunteering every Thursday at my local family history center library. And, I couldn't help but laugh when I realized that today was Thursday and here I was, standing in a Family History Center in Edinburgh!

I had promised a friend that I would see if I could locate information on her family if I had some time to spare.  Today was the perfect opportunity to check out the place and see what the locals had to offer.  But I had not realized the day of the week until I had to sign-in on the patron list.

The day had begun wet and rainy, so I grabbed my umbrella & hopped on the train to Edinburgh.  I needed to pick up some heritage passes that I had purchased, and today seemed as good a day as any to head into town.

When I exited the Waverly train station, the hustle & bustle of people made it pretty obvious that Edinburgh in April is far different than Edinburgh in January.  I actually found it rather annoying having to weave my way through the throngs of people to get to the castle.  And, coming back down the hill wasn't any pleasanter.  So, as I found myself nearing the destination of 15 Victoria Terrace, it was comforting to walk into a building and to be greeted with a smile and an enthusiastic genealogist.

Ewil Cullins was his name.  He was an older gentleman and it was quite obvious from the start that he was eager to delve right in and look for the surname that I had come in with.  In no time we were searching through microfilm and I found myself getting excited at finding so much information for my friend.  And, the best part of the search was that it was written in English!  I generally spend hours attempting to decipher Hungarian or Latin, so what a treat it was to scan through a page and actually be able to read it!  It certainly made the whole experience that much more pleasant.

After a couple of hours, I exited with a handful of registry copies and was surprised to walk out into brilliant sunshine.  That's when I took the photo.

So, I fear that I don't have much exciting to share today.  But I am certain that the recipient of today's adventure will think otherwise.

Sunshine in Kinghorn

Believe it or not, today was a Sunglasses Day!  So glad that I brought them along and ignored Marty's laughing when I decided to pack them.

I decided to check out this place, which is just one town away on the coastal train route, after picking up a brochure at the Visitor Center.   I was particularly curious about seeing the spot where Alexander III fell of his horse and died.

When I stepped off of the train,  I couldn't believe the vista. I quickly headed along the path down to the coastal route, having somewhat of an idea where I was going.  The monument wasn't exactly located on the map that I had.  Just an arrow pointing in a direction where I could find it.

Within short time, I met Bobby and his owner:

He was a wee friendly dog.....at least to me, he was.  A lovely friendly Australian Shepherd meandered by, hoping to have a romp with Bobby, but he wasn't having any part of that.  Little  Dog syndrome, we call it.

Bobby's owner gave me some tips regarding today's adventure, and she suggested that I walk along the coast to enjoy the views, then make my way up some stairs to the road where I'd find the monument.  She hesitated for a  minute, then warned me that the steps were very steep, but worth the climb.

Well, that sounded fine to me, so I bid fond farewell and headed out on the coastal path.

The views were spectacular.  Here you see Pettycur harbor.

It wasn't far from here when I began to make my way up to the road.  I didn't see any steps, so I presumed that the road that I was on would take me up the hill to my destination.  But then I saw the train pass by between me and the road and I knew I had better rethink my path.

I spotted a man painting his fence, and he was more than happy to point me to the secret steps that led up the hill to the road.  Once again, this man hesitated, then stated that he called them "cardiac" steps because they were a real challenge to climb.

Well, after two warnings, I was worried about what I would find. I was looking at a pretty steep cliff above my head.  Would I be mountain climbing?

I made my way through the fenced path, turned the corner, and breathed a sigh of relief when I saw steps, in many levels, making their way up the hill.  Twisting and turning, but with a handrail if necessary.  As I began to climb the steps I couldn't help but chuckle at how these people presumed that I would find this climb to be difficult.  They obviously were unaware of many of my past  adventures.  

In any event, I was relieved to not have to face yet another challenge.  I made it to the road, and began my hike to find the monument.

I was walking much further than I had anticipated.  I stopped one man and asked if I was on the right road, and assured that I was, and he told me that I had about 3/4 of a mile to go.

I'll admit that it seemed much further than that, but I finally rounded the corner and saw the monument in the distance.

There it stands, above the beach along the Firth of Forth, and at the base of a cliff.

To the illustrious Alexander III

the last of Scotland's Celtic Kings

who was accidentally killed near this spot

March XIX-MCCLXXXVI

And, here's a photo of the cliff opposite the memorial:

It actually looks much steeper in person.  But consider yourself lucky that I have this photo to share, because as soon as I snapped the photo of the Monument, the battery In my camera died.

I couldn't believe it.  I popped the battery out of the camera, tried all of those tricks that my dad taught me, like rubbing the metal to get it warm, popped it back into the camera, aimed and took this photo of the cliff. But my camera actually gave me the dead battery symbol, so I was pretty surprised to see that this last photo somehow sneaked in!  

Thanks Dad!

Burntisland: A lovely Royal Burgh

Here you see a panoramic vista featuring the Royal Burgh of Burntisland.  I stumbled upon the treasures of this town while browsing through a Fife tourism book in our hotel room. When I mentioned my discovery to Dave at breakfast, he had warned me that I would be entering a "ghost town", as he put it, but I wasn't interested in camaraderie, so I purchased a ticket, hopped on the train, and set out to find the library where I hoped to find a copy of the Heritage Trail Map. (See, Rebecca, I took your advice seriously)

The library was easy to find and once inside, I spotted a plaque on the wall, devoted to Andrew Carnegie, the man who was responsible for the library in this town.  One more to add to his ever growing list of donations. 

The librarians were eager to help me, and when they could not locate the brochure that I was seeking, one of them went online, downloaded the .pdf file, and printed up the document for me to take with me. The local people never cease to amaze me with their eagerness to help out a stranger.  I thanked them and headed out the door, ready to embark upon the trail when I realized that the Museum of Communication was directly across the street.

Again, I had located the info for this place in the same Fife Tourist Board booklet in my hotel room. And, once again, Dave had laughed when I expressed an interest in seeing it, telling me that it wouldn't take up much of my day because the entire contents were the size of my hotel room. 

But, I didn't let Dave's comments dampen my enthusiasm.  I had looked at the website online, and found information that showed that the place was open only on Wed. and Sat., was closed until sometime in April, but the info encouraged one to ring the bell, just in case someone was there.  Being Wednesday, this was the one opportunity to check this place out, if I could. 

When I spotted the museum, it was obvious that the place was closed, but the ringer was right there by the door, and I could not refrain from pushing the buzzer.  Within minutes, an older woman answered the door, and I asked if the place was open.  She informed me that they were not officially open, but that they were preparing for a display featuring the 100th anniversary of the sinking of the Titanic.  I thanked her, told her what I had found online about ringing the buzzer, and mentioned that I had thought that it was worth the try.

The next thing you know, she was ushering me in, introducing herself as Dorothy, and giving me the lo-down on many of the items in the cases.   Dorothy enthusiastically explained where a lot of the items came from, and my personal favorite line was when she said "The bloke donated all that he had."  I had always associated the word "bloke" with a negative connotation, but this woman was definitely not using the word in that context.( In any event, I don't plan on using the word myself anytime soon, until my friend Jennifer clears up the accepted practice in using the word "bloke".)

Back to the museum:  this place was filled with Ham Radio paraphernalia, Friction machines, lighthouse information, telegraph instruments....anything that fell into the realm of communication.  One of my favorite items was the Admiralty Telegraph which had been developed during the Napoleonic Wars in England. 

These giant devices were set upon high hills (which continue to be known as certain telegraph hills) and one could read the message by reading the letters associated with the position of the paddles on the device.   A message could travel 400 miles back and forth in 5 minutes time, as long as the weather was clear, and it was daylight. Fascinating...don't you think?

After spending well over an hour in this place under the direction of my tour guide, Dorothy, I had seen just about everything and was thrilled that I had made the effort to push that buzzer. Obviously, this place had expanded since Dave last stuck his head in the door.  I thanked Dorothy for her exuberant tour and headed out  to begin the Heritage Trail that was my original plan.

The town was not overcrowded, but there were plenty of people out and about since the children have Easter Holiday until the end of the week.  The weather cleared, offering me outstanding vistas with bright blue skies and puffy white clouds.  

There were many buildings in the town, not featured in the Heritage Trail pamphlet, that I found to be quite amusing.  The Short & Curly Barber Shop caught my attention with the snarly looking man's face featured above the door frame. (Could he be called a bloke?)

The trail led me up a walk to the top of Broomhill, where I was amazed at the beauty of the Firth of Forth sparkling behind the Royal Burgh. 

It looks like a post card, don't you think?

The town was filled with many historical buildings like the Parish Church of St. Columba, opened in 1594.

Apparently King James VI proposed a new translation of the Bible in this church.  That was before he became King James I of England. 

Down the street stands the old Parsonage, built in 1854 as a schoolhouse.

From what I observed, it appears to be an apartment complex now. Strollers in the entranceway and laundry hanging out back on a line gave that impression. 

One thing of particular interest regarding this town, was the obvious revitalization that was going on.  Houses were being refurbished, trash collectors were busy at work, and contractors were out and about fixing roofs and painting building exteriors. I was taking a photo of the plaque on the Mary Sommerville house when two very friendly policemen came walking down the street. I waited for them to pass before getting a shot of the house.

The next thing I know, these men were asking me if I was taking a photo of the house to put it on the list of houses that needed to be cleaned.  I told them that I was from America, and assured them that I was just fascinated by the history of the house.  We all got quite a chuckle out of that confusion.

The policemen weren't the only ones interested in my photography.  This guy even posed for me:

My tour of the town ended with the climb up yet another hill to see Rossend Castle.  It sits on a cliff overlooking the harbor and was originally built in 1199.

Mary Queen of Scots once visited this castle.  It fell under disrepair many years ago, and an engineering firm bought it up and fixed it up.  The firm continues to work out of the building, although I did read that one could purchase it for £ 450,000.  Any takers?

I managed to capture this fabulous view  from the train on my way back to the hotel.

You see the church in Kinghorn with the Firth of Forth in the background. Kinghorn is where Alexander III's horse stumbled near the edge of a cliff, on a dark and stormy night, causing Alexander to plummet to his death.  Sad story.  And, he left no heir.  Even sadder story because Scotland underwent a lot of turmoil as a result.  But that's enough history for today.

As you can tell, the day was A+ all the way.  I managed to make it back to my hotel room before the skies became dark, and thunder and lightening rolled in.  Now, how lucky was that?

The Largest Disco Ball in Fife

Marty and I were in for a big surprise when we walked into the breakfast room and were directed down the hall to the ballroom for our morning fare. You can see by the photo, that we got to see the Largest-Disco-Ball-in-all-of-Fife close up this time.  No more peeking through windows to photograph this gem.  Unfortunately, the lights weren't turned on for us to get a first hand experience of how it actually works, but if there is a way for us to see it work, I can guarantee you that Dave will figure one out.

When we entered the room, Dave led us to a special table that he had made up for us, and, once again, he made us some of the best sweet porridge that I've ever tasted.  The room had been filled with a tour group when we arrived, but they soon filtered out, and Marty and I found ourselves pretty much alone, in this huge ballroom with a slight twist to the musical venue.  Today featured Kenny Rogers and Willie Nelson music. Marty didn't look too thrilled, but I kind of enjoyed the change of pace from our last trip here.

Dave came over to chat with us while a new female trainee was clearing the now empty tables.  She was rolling a cart through the door, when we heard a slight crash which was obviously glass breaking.  Dave rolled his eyes and whispered in his entertaining Scottish accent:  "She's got about as much light as a broken torch."  He went onto to vent his frustration about plate placement and how he could not get her to remember which plate went where.  Personally, I think this conversation was totally wasted on Marty, who seemed rather confused himself about what went where, but I couldn't help but be amused by Dave's complaint.  There's just nothing quite like breakfast with Dave running the show while seventy's music is playing in the background.  Add to that the infamous Disco Ball, and I can't say that I have had a more exciting way too start the day in quite awhile.

I haven't quite decided where today's adventures will lead me.  I thought about heading into Burntisland, which is just 2 trainstops down the road, but Dave tells me that it is a ghost town.  Not much to see there, he says. I mentioned a Communication Museum that I thought would be interesting and he said that it was about the size of my room in the hotel.  Well, at least I've been fair warned.

I promised Marty that I wouldn't do anything crazy and mentioned that I rarely do, to which he rolled his eyes and commented otherwise.  I just don't understand his worry.  After all, it's not like I'm heading into the Pine Barrens like someone I know who recently risked emerging.

On my last trip, pulling out a map resulted in the locals coming out to give me direction. The one time I didn't have a map, I couldn't find anyone to help me.  I find this to be a bit amusing, because I am pretty handy with a map, and when in possession of one, I can pretty much figure out where I'm going, particularly in Scotland, where the maps are written in English. 

 It's the lack of map that gets me in trouble.  So, my game plan is to carry some sort of map and pull it out when I need assistance.  I'll let you know if that trick works. I'll probably be touted as a foolish American, but if gets me to where I need to go, it's worth the risk.

Time to get moving......

Back in Kirkcaldy

And so you see the lovely view from the Beveridge Park Hotel in Kirkcaldy.   How did we get so lucky?  

Marty has been staying here regularly, and as a result, the owner was happy to give us one of his best executive rooms.  What a joy to have such huge windows looking out over the Firth of Forth.  

When we arrived this morning, we walked out of the airport with snowflakes falling, but the sun decided to show its face later in the day.  That makes the view even lovelier.

Marty and I were sitting in the lobby waiting for our room to be ready, when Dave came popping in, looking like he had just headed from the artic wearing one of those furry "Floyd B. Turbo" hats on his head.  He was so excited to see us.  It's going to be fun times in Kirkcaldy....I can already tell. 

In case you forgot, Dave is the waiter who introduced us to the best home made porridge that we have ever tasted. He took a real liking to us back in January, and it is apparent that he is happy to see us back again. I'm anxious to hear if the morning music has changed, or if Karen Carpenter and Neil Sedaka are still on the a.m. soundtrack.  Oh yes....the excitements of travel.   I'll keep you posted as best I can.

What a difference a day makes

Well, here's the proof that we were, indeed, in close proximity to the Endless Caverns entrance, although I was a bit surprised to see this view from the bedroom window among awaking.  The photo doesn't do justice to the words featured on the hillside.  Marty and I certainly got quite a chuckle out of this view.

Snow never appeared in New Market,  and the day was absolutely fabulous for walking the Civil War Museum New Market Battlefield grounds.  The museum there is well presented, and Marty and I enjoyed walking through the building and reading the history from a southern perspective.

The battle took place on the homestead of the Bushong family, and the house and building structures are preserved in their original site.  We spent several hours walking the fields and exploring the grounds.  

Here Marty stands on the porch of one of the houses on the Bushong homestead.  

Just over the hill, down a very steep cliff, flows the Shenandoah River.

As you can see, we were quite fortunate to have such lovely weather to enjoy the spectacular views of this area.  What a difference a day can make!

A Time Warp, Perhaps?

This is a photograph taken from our car, at a rest stop just outside Roanoke, Virginia today.  We read the weather warnings before departing, but scoffed them off as a supermarket scare as it just didn't seem possible that it could snow right smack in the middle of the state of VA without more northern areas being affected.

About half an hour into our trip, the giant snowflakes began to fall.  And as we traveled north, the roads became hazardous.  Our destination was a B&B just outside of New Market, VA.  We thought we'd try something different on the way home, and visit the National Civil War Battlefield in New Market in the morning.

As our destination arrival time was becoming perilously close, we decided that we would order a to-go meal from our favorite restaurant in Harrisonburg.  Our thinking was that we would pick up the meal along with a bottle of wine and enjoy both at the B&B, safely tucked in out of the snow.
Our wine options were limited to a screw-on cap, since we don't tend to travel with a corkscrew in hand.  (I know that one of my blog followers will find that comment to be amusing.)

As soon as the order was complete the road conditions improved dramatically.  Within a mile, we suddenly noticed that there was no snow....anywhere.  The grass was green (or at least as green as it would look in the dark), the trees were bare....the road was dry.  It was as if we were in some sort of movie where the car just suddenly drove out of a winter scene like in a dream.

The car certainly stood out in the parking lot, covered with ice dripping onto the macadam.
We picked up the food, and started out on our way to the B&B, which we knew was in the middle of nowhere.  And, thank goodness the snow had not traveled up this far, as finding this place was enough of an adventure without bad weather to complicate things.

We are literally adjacent to the Endless Caverns Gate Entrance. Now before you get too excited, let me mention that the place is closed for the winter, so there'll be no cavern tours, not that I was remotely interested in one.

We were warmly greeted by the B&B owner upon our arrival, but I did find it amusing that the parking lot was completely empty, considering that there are about 8 rooms in this place, and when I inquired about room availability, the response was that the Andrew Jackson suite was available.
So, here we are, the only patrons in a 1790 refurbished farmhouse, next to the Endless Caverns, in the middle of nowhere.
Our room is certainly comfy, as you can see:

But, we decided to partake of our meal downstairs, next to a burning fire, rather than eat in the room.  The food was delicious and the wine was actually quite tasty.  Whoever said that you need a cork to enjoy a bottle of wine?  But then again, after today's travels, perhaps anything with alcohol would have tasted equally as wonderful.

The last time I peeked out of the window, there was still no sign of any snowflakes.

And, I swear this lady who adorns the mantle-piece was looking in a different direction when we left the room for dinner.

Curious, don't you think?  But, really, after today's adventures, I shouldn't find anything too surprising!

The ongoing excitement of Hotel Strasburg

If you recall from past blogs, Marty and I have stayed at the Hotel Strasburg on several occasions as part of our travel adventures to and from Becky and Jon's new abode in southern Virginia.
Tonight, we find ourselves once again relaxing in the confines of a building that dates back to the early 1900's.  The owner has managed to keep the hotel decorated in period style but with the obvious modern day amenities with the newest addition being  Wi-Fi.

On our last stay here, we had Buster in tow, but he is enjoying this President's Day weekend at the Country Pet Hideaway.  I'm certain that he is having a grand time, as the place was extremely busy when I dropped him off this morning.

I reserved the room here  through a 3rd party online vendor, as I have done twice in the past.  The online offerings are typically the simplest room available, and I always book a room with a queen bed.  The second time that I booked online, it was brought to my attention that the owner seems to be rather negligent when it comes to checking the online status of the regular rooms, and since those always book first, we were offered an upgraded suite with a huge room.

We showed up this evening, and I pulled out my room reservation, and the lady once again could not find my name in the book. She politely explained the same story that we had heard on a previous trip, and this time we find ourselves on the 3rd floor, in a relatively unique room with quite a bit of room.
In fact, the room holds a queen bed as well as a twin bed with plenty of room to spare.

Doesn't it figure! The one time we don't bring Buster along, and he could have had his own bed!  But, then again, we'd have to scale 3 flights of steps every time he had the whim to want to go outside.
And with Marty having just flown in from Scotland this afternoon, with his body clock still on Edinburgh time, you know who would be making that trip up and down the stairs.
Not that I couldn't use some stairmaster exercise, but I am looking forward to not waking up to a little white dog barking at 5:00 in the morning.

But something tells me that Marty's morning will be beginning around that time since he's been sleeping half an hour already.  Oh well.  At least he doesn't bark when he gets up!