Cold and Wet in Iona

Stacey and I went to Iona last week. It took us nine hours, three trains, two busses, and two ferries to get there. As such, it really felt like a proper pilgrimage. I asked Stacey if she wanted to kiss the ground when we stepped off the ferry onto Iona, but she wasn't interested.

Though the trip was long, it was enjoyable. The west coast of Scotland between Glasgow and Oban was incredibly beautiful. Most of the mountains were snow capped with evergreen and birch trees in the lower altitudes. The ferry ride from Oban to Mull was also very nice.

On Iona, we stayed at the Argyll Hotel (www.argyllhoteliona.co.uk). Being the off-season, it was the only hotel that was open on the island and it housed the only restaurant open on the island. But it was a great restaurant. Even the Abbey wasn't fully open--which was a bit of a suprise to us.

I expected Iona to be a quasi-monastic community centered on formal daily worship in the Abbey (www.iona.org.uk). Instead, I was suprised to find that most of the members of the community are not in residence and not much happens at the Abbey during the winter. Basically, the community (450 members) is out in the world doing their work--mostly for social justice. On Iona, the Abbey and the MacLeod Center function more as retreat centers (normally, but not exclusively, for members of the Church of Scotland). While the community is unlike anything I have ever known, the actual island centers are like what Montreat is to the American Presbyterian: a retreat and conference center.

I was also suprised to find out that only about half (according to our waitress) of the people living on Iona are affiliated with the community. There is a convenience store, a post office, a couple of hotels, a pub, a golf course (!) and Iona Primary School (The convenience store clerk told me that the kids go to high school in Oban which is 2.5 hours away. They leave on Monday and come back on Friday.). I was suprised by all of this because I expected to find a bunch of holy looking people in coarse, brown clothes chanting while they worked between the prayers of the day. But I'm glad it wasn't that way.

It was a beautiful and wonderful place. I'm glad that we went and I would love to return someday. When I do return, I will pack wellies, waterproof pants, and a good rain jacket. And my golf clubs.

Say it with cheese!

The Cheesemonger in town has a new promotional for Valentine's Day: "Say it with cheese!" What better way is there to let someone know that you love them? So, I'm thinking about getting Stacey a wheel of Camambert for Valentine's Day (although Stacey would probably say that I usually say it with "cheese" anyway).

The Cheesemonger usually has funny signs in the window. Last fall, they had one that said: "Help Wanted: love of cheese is a must." Sounds like good advice. Cheese-haters need not apply.

leftover haggis

Last week, I hosted a Burn's night supper (if you have no idea what I'm talking about, go to www.robertburns.org/suppers/). We had neeps, tatties, whisky, and haggis--both regular and vegetarian. It was great, but I have all this leftover haggis. I really liked haggis about a week ago, but I'm getting a little sick of it now.

I've been searching around, trying to find some new ways of preparing haggis. I haven't been able to find anything, but somebody could make a killin' if they began marketing some Haggis Helper in this country. I thought that I would end up with a mess o' bad haggis when I came up with a good idea yesterday: Haggis Salad. I simply mixed some mayo, pickle (relish), and walnuts with haggis and made a haggis salad sandwich. Sounds gross, but it was pretty good (for the recipe, send me a self addressed stamped envelope and $19.95--Georgia residents add 6% tax).

Tonight, I'm thinking about mixing it with salsa for a dish I like to call Haggis Sumpin' Fierce.