It's Tuesday, and there's only two weeks and two days between me and a plane headed west. Throughout the past three weeks, I've been in three countries, met The Boy, met C*'s mother and brothers and family and come to discover that I never want to leave here, that I want to make a life here with C*. I'm wondering if C* feels the same. I've already asked him to marry me. His reply? A not-too-uplifting "I'll think about it."
A little more than a week ago, C* took me to the nearby shore of Loch Ness. With dog Woody in tow, we enjoyed a wooded walk around part of the perimeter of the famed loch, but there was nary a monster in sight.
This lake is huge: 23 miles around, to be exact. And it's so deep that no diver has ever been to the deepest part of the bottom of it. The legend of Nessie is still alive and provides a living for at least one weirdo who has set up shop on the lake's shore. He considers himself to be a "researcher," but his method of research where the legendary beast is concerned involves nothing more than looking through his stupid telescope to see if the monster has decided to rear its massive head. He lives in his research van on the lake's shore and sells Nessie souvenirs made out of what looks like bits collected from around the lake. Can anyone say "freak"?
We made the trip to Loch Ness on an overcast day making for dramatic views:
Woody picked up some tics as he scoured the wooded area sampling all the scents that were to be found. But he had a good day, and so did wheeeeeee!