Romantical.....

Today is the 30th Anniversary of mine and John's first date together.  Yep, we've been together a long, long time.  January 28, 1984 I went out on a date with a handsome dude I barely knew and after that evening, I never went on a date with anyone else.

Because I'm feeling kind of "romantical" today,  (When he was little, John David used to say "Momma and Daddy are being romantical" when he saw us hugging or kissing.)  I've been writing some happy, romantical, and a wee bit humorous scenes for the book.  This is my modern day main character, Sara, along with a handsome gentleman she met at Dalhousie. 

Here is one:

It was a warm Scottish day, meaning that the air was not cold enough to need a scarf, but not yet warm enough to leave a coat behind.  The watery sun was working quite hard to shine.  

Ian drove on the narrow winding road, beside the famed Loch Ness, at a speed somewhere between the cartoon Roadrunner and being shot out of a cannon.  I sat on the passenger side, ever so thankful for my seat belt, but unsure if it would do any good, if we hit the hillside at such an alarming speed.  I had an up close view of the hillside, had I chosen to look at it, but instead, I closed my eyes and hoped for the best. 

I heard Ian make a sound that I assumed was a masculine giggle.   “Are you alright, ”  he questioned.

“Why yes, of course.  I adore the fear of having the left side of my head shaved clean from the sharp rocks of this hillside….right beside my left ear....as you zoom around the loch.” 

He did a full out laugh this time that caused me to give him a very threatening “stink eye”.  The stink eye was a look my children gave each other, as an alternative to punching their sibling, if mom was close by.  Unfortunately,  Ian seemed to be immune to the effects of the stink eye.  He laughed, even louder.  

I continued, “I will tell my friends in the states that while I was near Loch Ness, I was much too scared to actually look at it.  The fear has nothing to do with Nessie.”  

With a ridiculously childlike grin Ian said, “How about we slow our day down a bit.   We can stop at Urquhart Castle, let you catch your breath, have a very slow look around and maybe have a cup of tea afterward?” 
 

As Ian slowed the car and the landscape came into focus, I noticed the dark green of the alders and the yellow blooms of the gorse and broom covering the hillside. The gorse is magnificent from a distance, but when viewed at close range, you have to be careful of the huge thorns.  

“Urquhart Castle,” I mused, thumbing through Brigid’s journal.  “I don’t see anything here about it?  I vaguely remember seeing pictures in her albums of Urquhart, but she doesn’t seem to have left me any messages about it. Hmm.”  

“Would you rather not stop?”  We can always keep driving toward Inverness.  There are some lovely spots for lunch and tea there.” 

“No, let’s stop. I’d like to get a good, slow look at the loch anyway.”  I was rewarded with a handsome grin, as we turned the car into the parking lot for Urquhart tours.