Lions and Tigers and...Oh My!

Things you can learn at the zoo:

1. Never attempt to have a staring contest with a gorilla. He will win.
2. Even more abundant than flies at the zoo are little kids with yuppy names like Mason.
3. Polar bears play with a steel barrel like its a tennis ball. In other words, it's a very good thing that there's a thick panel of glass between the two of you.
For Father's Day last weekend my dad and I went to Como Zoo. I thought watching baby animals misbehave would remind him what an exemplary daughter I am. Just kidding. Regardless of my motivations for going to the zoo its always a good animal and people watching experience. Besides watching ostriches mistake a fence for food, you can also find little kids mistaking the ostrich for a duck.
Ostrich versus duck. You decide.

Sometimes I wonder if the baby orangutans are more evolved than human children after eavesdropping a few too many ridiculous conversations at the zoo. That's not the only area in which animals and humans are scarily similar. For example, see the depressed looking zebra below. Although he may be pictured alone, he is actually one of three zebras in this exhibit. His specific role is third wheel as I observed last Sunday. While attempting to hang out with the zebra couple, he was angrily chased away by the other male. I think we're all familiar with that situation. The animals at Como Zoo never cease to surprise me even though I've been going there since age eight. As a little girl I wasn't one for canoeing and crafting at summer camp, but learning. (I've always been a nerd.) So instead of swimming in the lake at summer camp, I went to zoo camp where we learned about the animals and did several disgusting activities to do so. My favorite was reconstructing a mouse skeleton from an owl pellet, a "craft" that I had the good fortune to do several times throughout my childhood. I even have a mouse skeleton laminated on to a bookmark made out of construction paper somewhere. Why, Minnesota educators, why?

[Probably the most accurate view of animals.]
Before I told you that charmingly gross anecdote, my point is that the zoo has always been a consistent part of my life. Even after basic biology courses tried to ruin the fun of animals by learning about every species nervous system and despite the potential ethical concerns of zoos, I still love them and so does my dad. Going to the zoo has been a consistent father/daughter bonding activity since the time he took me to the Minnesota Zoo at age five even though I had the stomach flu. Since then we've been to the two Twin Cities zoos too many times to count as well as the Seattle, Dublin, and DC zoos.

Como Zoo has also been a consistent staple of St. Paul since 1897. However it was more significant during the 1930s when it was given federal funding by the WPA (one of FDR's Alphabet Programs) to construct Monkey Island and other prominent zoo buildings. Today's visitor center used to be the main attraction with cages equivalent to those seen on a Nabisco animal crackers box. The animal exhibits are a lot larger now and overall the Como Zoo has a much better reputation for animal safety than the Minnesota Zoo. Did I mention its free too? Definitely worth a visit if you find yourself in St. Paul.

This Little Bloodhound Went to the Market

Everyone enjoys the Lancaster Central Farmers Market and when I say everyone I mean even the teenage bluegrass band (pictured below) and the bloodhound. Even though seeing a bloodhound outside of the police force is a rarity, please don't stare at him for he would like to enjoy his coffee in peace just like the rest of us.
The fact that the rare canine makes it out to market shows just how popular it is. Everyone from our relatives to the hotel staff recommended we stop by last Saturday morning. All the produce is locally grown in the fecund farmland the area is known for. Hey, my cousins don't have a cornfield in their backyard for nothing. There's fruit and fruitful conversation. While my dad and I waited in line to get some homemade dog biscuits for Gatsby, two woman swooped in with their lattes to harangue the baker about the nearby bikram yoga studio in exchange for a bone-shaped peanutbutter dog treat. Who needs twitter when you have these women chirping away about the town happenings? Clearly the market is the place to go if you want to be seen.
For our part, my dad and I scoped out the market for breakfast and found dozens of donuts to choose from. With pretzel shaped glazed donuts or chocolate creamcheese muffins, you could've tried a new one every week. I would gladly go back just to sample all of them, but since we were only in Lancaster for the weekend I settled for an amazing peanutbutter frosted donut.
[My dad's chocolate creamcheese muffin]
Besides seeing my family, the market was the highlight of my trip to Lancaster and would be for any foodie! Expect to see more farmers market posts on this blog throughout the summer for I haven't even made it out to my staple, the St. Paul Farmers Market yet!

In A Penn State of Mind

This past weekend I found myself watching a TV special about the Amish of Lancaster, Pennsylvania while in that very city. Although I find it a little ironic that the program proclaimed, "Please do not ask the Amish to pose for photos for it is against their religion" while they filmed them, I found a lot of other amazing things to take photos of in Lancaster.
My trip to Lancaster came only four days after I officially touched down on the Minnesota tarmac. I hadn't quite gotten over my jet-lag, nevertheless we hopped a plane and a timezone forward for a mini family reunion of sorts to celebrate the graduation of my two cousins Emily and Laura from high school and college respectively.

In between the festivities we explored historic downtown Lancaster. The oldest inland city in the country and traditionally a farming community, now the city is full of colonial buildings that house hip ethnic restaurants and the flannel wearing hipsters (in the 80F heat!?) that frequent them. It's a city where you can find the devout aforementioned Amish in their horse and buggies (the local Costco has hitching posts) heading off to their church and 20-somethings swing dancing in another church. Lancaster is the perfect combination of the traditional and modern and great for a weekend visit.

As it turns out, we came on the right weekend. June 3rd was the beginning of First Fridays, a community event when all of the art galleries are open late. As you walk between the galleries there is live music and food vendors making for a charming welcome to Summer. My cousin Laura and I wandered around and sampled local burritos while my parents bought a painting- a fun and fruitful night for everyone. Congrats again to Laura and Emily who are both moving on to bigger and better things, but with their sense of humor intact (see cake, below). I have another Lancaster post coming up featuring my favorite discovery, the famous farmers market.

Bye to the 'Burgh

Today is my last day in Edinburgh for this academic year. Scotland has been reminding me why I love it this week: 70MPH winds, on and off downpour, buildings without elevators making move out all the more fun when you live on the third floor. The photo above is from Hilly's visit to Edinburgh in March when I nearly fell down Arthur's Seat (again), but minus the peacoat my outfits this week look almost the same. I never thought I would be wearing jeans when its almost June, but that's Scotland for you. It might surprise you as those silly tourism ads say.

Although I won't miss tripping over cobblestones for a few months, I will miss using the castle to orient myself on my way to discover the latest cafe, the burgers, beer, and banter at the pub, and my friends' caustic wit as we argue over the latest film we've seen at the Cameo. Edinburgh has made my junior/third year one I will never forget. Despite the alienating bagpipes, I've really come into my own in Scotland. I can't wait to learn more about myself and the city soon enough.
[Gratuitous photo of Gatsby taken by my dad.]

But for now it's time to say goodbye and board the plane back to Minnesota. I look forward to being attacked by 78lbs. of American bulldog when I get home and of course seeing my family. As soon as Gatsby calms down and I get over my jet-lag, I will update you on the enthralling life that exists in suburbia. I plan on keeping this blog going even when I'm nowhere near the Loch Ness that inspired the name of it. Look forward to more posts on travels, food, and quotidian happenings over the summer.

Playing With Fire is Playing With Power

A pretty woman with a bowlcut hovered by the merch table as my friend Poppy and I walked into Sneaky Pete's for the Sparrow and the Workshop gig last night. I barely noticed her and instead tried to push my way through the cramped Cowgate club to get a good view of the band. Little did I realize, that I already got my "good view" for that charming woman with the feminine cheekbones selling CDs and handmade paper skulls was Jill O'Sullivan, the frontwoman of Glaswegan Sparrow and the Workshop. Fittingly, the rest of the night was equally intimate, exhibiting the down to earth nature of a band I think will be very big in the future.

Sparrow and the Workshop is an apt name for the band given O'Sullivan's vocals warbling Emmylou-Harris-style like the bird the band is named after, but coupled with some rollicking drum and bass akin to the White Stripes. However no real musical comparison fits the band, who have been likened to Jefferson Airplane, Black Sabbath, Franz Ferdinand, The Ting Tings, Florence and the Machine, and many more acts that don't even sound similar. In short, S&W have their own unique sound. It's Chicagoan O'Sullivan's voice that can croon like a country singer and wail like a punkrocker that allows the band to transcend so many genres. Coupled with Scottish (the only true Scot in a group that originates from Glasgow) drummer Gregor Donaldon's vocals- S&W can sound like old school folk singers. But it's when Welsh bassman Nick Packer lets his guitar rip that the band cascades into the intense live show they put on for us last night.

Poppy and I lucked out to be at their second gig since they released their latest album "Spitting Daggers" on Monday. They had an enthusiastic stage presence and were ready to play their tight set for us, but the stage itself wasn't ready. After dodging two dead leads and multiple microphone problems, O'Sullivan led the audience through a brief rendition of "Always Look on the Brightside of Life" during these gaffes, keeping the crowd entertained and in good humor. Eventually she mused that her "lucky" peacock feathers were causing the bad juju in the room and passed them out to the crowd.Perhaps that did the trick because after they lost the feathers of another bird, the sparrow was able to really soar. Forgiving my cheesy metaphor, the band played a nice mix of ethereal folk ditties and rocking loud numbers during which you could almost feel the soundwaves pulsating through the cave-like venue.

I wasn't familiar with S&W before Poppy dragged me along to the gig, but by the end of the night I was dancing along. I'm a new fan, but one that's in for the long run. I hope to catch S&W whenever they're back in 'Burgh and given their residence is only a 50-minute train ride away from here, I hope that's sometime soon. In the meantime, get your hands on their albums. You'll thank me when they get the success they deserve.



UPDATE/EDIT: Posted this link to twitter and got a lovely response from the band itself! Definitely the nicest and most well mannered rock stars I've ever met.

[Sorry I'm too technologically illiterate to figure out how to link this]

Swan Song

After writing about all of the adventures the protagonists went on from the novels I wrote about for exams, I realized I hadn't been on any adventures myself lately. So instead of spending the first day after exams traditionally oversleeping, my friend Caroline and I ventured out to Stockbridge.

Stockbridge once was a village outside of Edinburgh named for its timber bridge (which we somehow failed to find), but in the 19th Century it was incorporated into Edinburgh proper. Its a fitting metaphor for Caroline and I are both exchange students (from the US and Germany respectively), who have made Edinburgh our home this year. We've explored the city through cafes so naturally we cafe crawled through Stockbridge too. Above is a photo from the charming cafe/art gallery Bon Papillon in New Town where we stopped to refuel with some Earl Grey tea and delicious shortbread nibbles before heading off to Stockbridge. It was nice to finally have a conversation that had nothing to do with how stressed out over exams we were.

It started downpouring when we finally found Stockbridge so sadly I don't have any photos of the quaint little town full of delightful little pastry shops and boutiques. We didn't see one student in the area which was a refreshing change. Instead Stockbridge felt very family oriented with old women having lunch together and strollers running us off the streets instead of harried students trying to return library books before they are overdue.
[Sorry, the only evidence that Caroline was involved is her stirring her tea and reading the guidebook.]

We wandered over the one of Edinburgh's largest urban parks at 54 acres, Inverleith. In the 17th century it was a private estate owned by the Rocheid family, but the city acquired it in the 19th century and quickly turned it into a public park complete with ponds, playing fields, and eventually residential gardens. I mistakenly thought the rugby pitch was an American football field, but despite the cultural confusion it was still nice for a stroll. Caroline and I quickly discovered that it had one of the best views of the city we'd ever seen.
See Calton Hill in the background.
The large hill is Arthur's Seat.
And the Edinburgh Castle.

Here is the entire view. What once were imposing landmarks of the city are laid out flat like some corny tourist t-shirt of the city. It's easy to get sucked up into the grandeur and history when in Old Town, our regular stomping grounds, but from afar it made me realize just how small Edinburgh really is. Somehow we've managed to conquer quite a bit of it, which made me feel accomplished and like there was so purpose to all of my gorging on cakes and coffees throughout the city. After all, if we hadn't wanted to sample the cafes of Stockbridge we may never have made it all the way out there. It was a fitting last outing with Caroline.
We also made friends with the swans. Don't worry I didn't get too close to snap these photos because I've heard of some truly vicious swan stories, perhaps its because under British Common Law's Royal Perogative, the current monarch owns all of the open water swans. No need to irritate Her Majesty one week before I need to successfully leave the country.