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The Logans of Edinburgh were in so much trouble when they were disbanded, the Chief was exhumed from his grave, convicted of treason, and hanged.
That's my family!

A Broad's Log

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Well...if ever I get my internet up, then I can post a photo of the day here!

The Cass

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12 January 2004

University of Edinburgh, Scotland

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Scottish Rain is Really Cold, or, The Hunt for a Tartan Begins:

Today started off rather promising, I didn't even mind waking up at eight in the morning on a day off. The sun shone brightly, the wind was low, and breakfast was rather tasty. I should have known something was up!

I embarked on a journey to find a jacket today, and failing to find one I decided what I really wanted- desired, craved, yearned for- was a tartan shawl. Yes, a beautiful, wooly, soft, warm, water repellant shawl emblazoned with the beautiful plaid of my family name. (I've recovered from the disappointment that the tartans aren't as meaningful as once thought.) Yeah well, apparently, that's not going to happen, because no one weaves my family's tartan. I can order the knit for kilts, at a whopping �50 a yard (that's $100 for 3 feet, for the Americans) and that just isn't good for shawls, much less my budget. So I nearly bought a cape (serape! what a fun word. S-hair-rhap-ay!) in the "Pride of Scotland" tartan, because its pretty. Purples, blues, yes, very nice. I also discovered there is a Diana, Princess of Wales Memorial Tartan woven in light blues and creams and teals. Also lovely, and wonderfully feminine. But no! I want a Logan tartan, dammit! And I will find one...well, I'm going to try anyway.

So if this wasn't exciting enough, I was manhandled by a man named Logan today, who was quite UNhelpful in the Quest for False Family Identity and Snappy Clothing, as I've come to call it. Just as we were leaving this man's unhelpful shop, the sun shunned us, and hail and rain came crashing from the hidden recesses of the sky. The man came out of his store to safely store away his postcards, and demanded we return to the dry interior of his store. We waffled, confused, deciding if we could walk it out (storms dont generally last all that long here) but lo, he grabbed me by the sleeve of my coat and dragged me into the store, shouting, "Come on, Miss Logan, and bring your friends! Don't be stupid!" And so we ended up in this man's store again. Now, I wasn't happy to find myself back here- as I said, he was most unhelpful and really not too nice at first. Perhaps he offered us shelter in repentance. At any rate, I was gearing up to stay there and stumble through the heavily brouged conversation I could feel building, when the others decided to walk out the storm, and we left. *sighs* I should have stayed with the Tartan Man.

So we walked in the rain and hail...and walked, and walked, and walked. Why? you ask. Why, did four college age kids, all of whom are quite bright, not seek refuge in the many pubs and coffee houses, and sit out the storm over a nice pint or cup of coffee, like any normal and sane person would do? Well....as I wiped the water from my face and wrung out my ponytail, I asked the same question. The answer? Jamison wanted fish and chips from The Abbey, a nice little pub about a block from our dorms. The problem: We were a good mile from that pub when the storm broke. So by the time we arrived, I felt..well, I felt nothing, because I was numb, and I was pissed as hell. We must have passed eighteen fish and chip places, not to mention the aforementioned pubs and coffeeshops. But no, it had to be the Abbey, because they were having a special for lunch. Then, they ordered their food while I was in the bathroom attempting to dry myself enough to sit at the table, so by the time I returned, food was served and lunch specials were void. *sighs* Jerks. Thats ok though...it all comes around eventually.

So here I am in the computer lab. I'm mostly dry now, but I still have no internet, so I'm thinking its a good thing I couldn't find a tartan in our name, or I might dress up and paint myself blue and show up at the Senior Warden's office tomorrow and maybe even have the Logan name disbanded for a second time. After all, they're in the habit of convicting corpses of said surname of treason. Why not a second disbanding? Sounds like fun to me. Regardless, my fun adventure for the day has left me yearning for hot water and loads of it. Maybe I can salvage my toes, if I hurry! If anyone has suggestions for where to try shopping for a nice cape let me know, otherwise I'll be sure to keep you all posted. Oh and mom- I DID find a nice plaque with a sample of our tartan, and more importantly, the family crest, so don't worry. I won't come home completely empty handed, nor heritage-less. And be sure to mention to Grandpa the family was NOT disbanded under Mary, Queen of Scots, but we were the "ruling" family of Edinburgh in the early 1600s. Just some fun stuff there. Ok, toodles!

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