on the bonnie, bonnie banks

One of the things I was looking forward to most this summer was attending the HP7b Premiere in London. I figured it would be a fitting ending to the work that has completely dominated my adolescent years, and if truth be told, my adult years as well.

When I found out we would be in Scotland during the premiere, you can bet I was a seriously considering dogging the whole thing this summer.
But instead we boarded the bus to the birthplace of the series with smiles on our faces.

We of course stopped by the Elephant House where JK wrote a large portion of the tale.


I wish I would have taken a picture of the bathroom. The toilet cover was a Harry Potter collage and all over there were love notes to JK etched in the walls. I'll be the first one to admit that my obsession and deep love for the series is...abnormal. And I'm fine with that. But I have to admit that with my first step into the cafe I was just overcome by the magic of it all. Not the kind of magic taught at Hogwarts (although I wish it were that kind) but the magic of the human spirit. Imagine, a grown woman was inspired by a story about an 11 year old wizard and she believed in this story so strongly that she was willing to give up stability with a secure job and live on pennies in order to make her vision a reality. If I feel silly for loving the world renown stories, imagine how she must have felt as a grown woman, believing in a fictional story she didn't even know would sell. She believed in herself when all rational thinking probably told her she shouldn't. And I think this is what you get from the Harry Potter stories - a permanent, if not at times doubtful belief in one's self against all odds. And perhaps even more important, the stories demonstrate a strong sense of duty to a cause greater than one's self and a willingness to sacrifice everything for it, hoping that everything will turn up in the end, but honestly feeling like it won't. And I feel lucky to have grown up with the books that took me to a place full of courage, sacrifice and faith. Thankfully I've begun to realize that those things aren't just fantastical, they're real. Because really, aren't we all pushing and striving for something greater than ourselves, something that requires courage, sacrifice and faith?
Or perhaps I have carried this to a level of seriousness it wasn't intended to go. I doubt that.

(Edinburgh Castle. The supposed view from the place where JK would sit and write the blessed story. Remind you of any school of witchcraft and wizardry?)

And now I'll stop there with all things Harry. After all, this is supposed to be a chronicle of both mine and Alex's life. Or parts of it anyway.

On the way to Scotland we stopped by Fountains Abbey.

I couldn't help but think of sweet Kel Hole the entire time, so this pic is for you, friend.

And for Alex's sake, we did escape from the birthplace of HP to Middle-earth on our hike to the Trossachs of Scotland.



I couldn't help but feel like the ringwraiths were going to appear out of the sky at any moment.
It was terrifyingly beautiful.

Overlooking Loch Lomond.

See the small head poking up? Proof that my mom is definitely still here with us.

And finally a few pictures of the city itself, which was fabulous.

View of the castle from the Sir Walter Scott Monument.

In an effort to complete the classic fantasy references I've included a picture of Mr. Tumnus. Besides, my mom loves Tumnus and paid top pound for this pic.