Soaking up Scotland

Our Henderson ancestors are from Scotland, so we trekked up north to see some family spots.  Glencoe is one (above).  Also, a castle outside of Edinburgh was in the Henderson family for centuries, now it's for sale.  {Why not just pass it down to me?  C'mon.}   Anyway we got the address and went out to see it, and it was in the middle of the woods and we had to ask a ton of people how to find it cause it was so secluded and we had to pass through a bunch of gates and dirt roads and anyway we found it.  It was kinda small, but cool.  We slept a couple nights in a 16th century barn on the prettiest farm on the planet, and Mom tried to pet a lamb but it kept running away, and James played too hard with the dog and it accidentally bit him (twice), and the farmer told us the barn was haunted after we couldn't figure out who was turning out the lights.

We went to the Pencil Museum.  I will appreciate pencils for the rest of my life!   

Scotland's great, really just beautiful, and Marc and I had to translate for the fam because they couldn't understand anyone's accents it was awesome.  They would just say "sorry, what?" over and over and stare blankly at the man as he repeated, "Do you want to wear it just now, or do you want a bag then?", or "9:30 at the Witchery Restaurant, alright?" -- and their eyes were completely glazed over and their faces were priceless.