Christmas Card Curse ● by Jess

When it comes to Christmas cards, I'm pretty much cursed. 

In 2012, Christmas #1 together, the hard drive with our photos on it failed. In 2013, our photographer cancelled on us at the very last minute. This year, the big 2014, I was determined. Nothing was coming between me and getting those blasted cards out. 

We had a really fun photoshoot with the fabulous Mark Nortcliffe and lovely Kim Byrne. Afterwards, I did an obsessive amount of research to find the PERFECT cards. I settled on a set of beautiful, handmade cards, created by women in a small village in Bangladesh. Initially, I chose them because you directly pay the village women (via Paypal), but I fell in love with them because of the craftsmanship. Receiving them in the post was like opening a box of paper Faberge eggs. They were so delicate and detailed, I wanted to keep them all for myself. 

Needless to say, I was feelin' it this year. 

The grand plan was to spend the train ride up to Perthshire writing charming, witty messages, sure to warm the figgy pudding of all our stateside friends and family. 

However, I was in a for a little surprise. Shortly after taking my seat on the train, an elderly lady sat down next to me. Watching her sit down was sort of like observing risen bread dough; it always seems to land with a decided plop, then slowly wheeze out as it sags amorphously over its surroundings. 

Resultantly, my elbow-- which has a tendency to wobble around when I'm writing-- had no more space of its own. I therefore determined to do it later. I slipped the card down by my feet for safe keeping. 

Soon enough though, our train arrived in Edinburgh. Because it was an Inverness bound train, it would only be stopping in Edinburgh for a moment or two. So, as we slowed, I informed my seat-mate that I'd soon be alighting. 

She looked at me, clearly annoyed. Then, ever so slowly, she rose and grumbled, drawing out the ascent as long as she possibly could. 

Were it not for my growing panic, I may have actually been able to admire the 30 seconds it took her to stand (Because seriously, try it... it takes skill). As it was though, I felt like a character from one of those horror films, watching life rise from some primordial ooze; but instead of fearing it, I was willing it (nay, pleading with it!) to move... at least just fast enough for me to get off the train. 

At long last, there was a gap, and I broke free. I grabbed my bags and darted from the train. We made it off in time!

Unfortunately, the relief was short lived. After arriving at my friend Harriet's house, I realised my envelope of glorious little cards was still on the floor of the train. 

So, here I am: Curse - 3, Jess - 0

Maybe 2015 will be my year....

[The photographs pictured above were some of the ones we were considering putting in our card. Image #1 (in front of Big Ben) was taken by Mark Nortcliffe Photography and image #2 (on the bridge) was taken by Kim Byrne Photography]

A Ceilidh for Hogmanay | Young Rubbish Vlog | Episode 20 ● by Jess

Our New Years was spent in the most unexpected way-- with a bundle of new friends in the middle of nowhere Scotland-- dancing with people we've never met and toasting in 2015 with fireworks, laughter and holding hands while singing Auld Lang Syne. In short, it may be the most memorable New Year I've ever had.

Thanks to all you wonderful people that made it happen. 2015 is filled with the promise of better, brighter tomorrows and I'm excited to see where it takes us :)

Exploring the Grounds at Strone | Young Rubbish Vlog | Episode 19 ● by Jess

Sometimes, even though everyone over here speaks English, Jon and I manage to completely miss what's being said. While sitting at dinner one night at Harriet's home (Strone House), the discussion transitioned to what we'd all be doing the next day. 

It was determined that we were going up to the "bothy." There were some intimating winks and nudges from around the table; but, whatever the inside joke was, we had obviously missed something. Finally, Jon asked, "wait, are be talking about a brothel?" 

Everyone, of course, found this hilarious, as they were most certainly NOT talking about a brothel (or "brothy" as it was later dubbed). In Scotland, little cabins are called bothies.  Harriet's family had one up on their property-- it was the cutest little one room log home with a very serious wood burning stove in the middle. We went up an had lunch the next day... giggled about more about the prospect of a little "brothy" in the middle of nowhere... and slid around on the lochs nearby (until we heard the ice start to crack). 

A beautiful little river runs through the property at Strone. We had to brave some very steep stairs, but the view of an old hydrogenerator and icicle structures that formed along the banks were well worth it.

 SO BEAUTIFUL!

In front of Strone House is this adorable lochlin (a little lake, aka a pond), that froze over. Tom, Harriet's boyfriend, managed to smash a rock though the centre and we realised the ice was super thick-- which was fantastic because we were kind of worried we'd fall through (YOLO!).

A Scottish Shoot | Young Rubbish Vlog | Episode 18 ● by Jess

I have this wonderful friend named Harriet, from work, that invited Jon and me to come up to her home in Scotland over the New Year. I said yes before really understanding what I had agreed to... We were in for a very authentic Scottish experience.

Our first full day up in Perthshire, we got to watch a shoot. Having had absolutely no experience or understanding about these sorts of things, I entered full blown panic mode when (earlier in the month) Harriet started listing off protocol for events like the shoot and dinner we'd be participating in. I was sure I was going to unintentionally offend someone with my American manners. 

Noting my growing hysteria, she attempted to assuage my concerns, saying, "Just watch Downton Abbey... it's probably about the same." Nothing could have freaked me out (or excited me) more. All those years of watching Jane Austen films were finally going to pay off!

Fortunately, Harriet was good to break down everything-- from what to wear at dinner to what an appropriate thank you gift is. For the shoot, we had to rise early and wear dark clothing (about 500 layers of it)-- particularly in green and brown with wellies, and a tweed hunting cap. 

The shoot is broken up in the "drives," basically locations for shooting. Each "gun" (shooter) has a specific place to stand. The beaters and dogs go off into the trees or brush and drives the birds toward the guns with sticks or flags. The guns shoot shotguns and usually only aim at birds over their specific area (not over their fellow guns space). 

Once a bird is shot, the dogs run to get them and bring them back. Then, after awhile, we all jump in the cars and head to the next location. Of course, in quintessential British fashion, we stop for tea/wine and lunch between the various drives.

If a gun shoots his or her first bird of a specific species (i.e. grouse, pigeon, pheasant, etc) then they get to be blooded, meaning they put the blood of the bird on their face and wear it for the rest of the day. 

At the end of the day, the guns and beaters divvy up the spoils, after which all the guests head back to the house for a nap and, afterwards, a gather fancy dinner. 

Everyone was so gracious about letting me photograph and shoot video. Thanks to everyone! Especially Harriet and her lovely parents who hosted us. I still have two more vlogs to do from our trip to Scotland, so stay tuned!

For everyone wondering about photos, I have a quite a few more (although I did realise I shot mostly video during the day).  After I finish these two other videos and get them online, I'll get the photos set up in a dropbox so they can be downloaded. Just send me your email if you want then :)

Peter Pan Cup | Vlog | Episode 17 ● by Jess

Fist of all, HAPPY NEW YEAR! Jon and I have been up in Scotland for the past few days, so I've been behind in getting this video posted... but I've got several more in the works which I'm very excited about!

As for this one, on Christmas day, in London, virtually everything is closed. But, people have been going to compete in the Peter Pan Cup-- a swimming race in the Serpentine-- since 1864! That's a whole lot of history! And we definitely wanted to see it. So we got up bright and early on Christmas morning and went to watch the race in Hyde Park.

 Then we strolled around Hyde Park, feeding the ducks, and squirrels and feeling a bit like Disney princesses when the birds flew down out of the trees and ate right out of our hands. It was a magical Christmas morning to be sure, especially because my brother Rich, his wife Mya and their baby Luke were there to share it with us.