Kilts were involved in the making of this post.

Classes finally began this past week. In some ways it seems very similar to what classes were like in the States; just a very abbreviated, condensed semester. I am still concerned about finding something particularly useful to research while I am over here, but all I can do is keep looking into things and see what happens. My advisor seems interested in helping me sort things out and find resources so that is good.

Just before classes began, I explored a bit of the West End. I went to the Botantic Gardens. Although I didn't expect to find it in all its splendor, I wasn't all that excited about the grounds. It's clearly a popular place to sit and read or chat. Just when I was feeling a little bummed about the place, I went into one of the conservatories. It was beautiful. I was divided into zones such as desert, tropical rainforest, etc. The variety of plants and divisions of climates was really great (if at times oppressively hot!). 

After that conservatory, I went to the Kibble Palace, another conservatory in the garden. This one was more focused on artistic beauty mixing plants with sculpture. Also impressive, but I think I liked the other conservatory better.

The gardens has its own tea room. It was a gorgeous day so I sat on the patio and enjoyed tea and a scone with preserves and clotted cream. I'm a huge fan of clotted cream. :) It's hard to not feel totally civilized while enjoying your own personal pot of tea with accoutrements and a scone in a garden.

Then I window-shopped my way to the Kelvingrove Art Gallery. The West End is full of neat little shops, but I wanted to refrain from the temptation to spend money. The gallery is huge. I only went through two galleries. I was a bit worn out from all my walking up to that point, and I saw a Cezanne that just made me feel all tingly. When a painting speaks to me, I sometimes would prefer to just relish that experience and leave rather than try to see everything and in the end remember little because of trying to take in too much. Especially when I know I can go back and see more.

The central gallery. I liked the mix of classic architecture with the modern art installation.

There were quotes painted on the walls throughout the galleries and this one just made me laugh.

My latest adventure was attending a Scottish wedding reception this weekend. A friend of my flatmate who was the one getting married invited me to come along. In many ways it was very similar to an American reception, except that a bunch of the men were in kilts. I guess I should first explain that it is very typically to have the ceremony, then cocktails, then dinner, and then a reception where additional people are often invited. 

Like any wedding reception there was dancing and the bar. In Scotland people buy rounds. So most of my drinks were paid for by others, but of course I bought a round as well. There were six people in my group so that meant we drank a minimum of six drinks each. It is very hard to keep up with Scots! Thankfully they served bacon rolls and cake as well.

And, funny enough, even though about a quarter of the men there were in kilts, I mostly have pictures of them from the waist up. Oops. But here are David and Kirsty, who were surprised how nice and normal I was considering I am an American. :)

And apologies for blurriness.

The tartan comes down through your mother's line. So because David's mother was a Watson, that is the tartan he wears. Sometimes these are actual heirlooms passed through families. However, now, apparently it is just as common to rent a kilt for an event and then you would just pick one to wear. So not every tartan you see truly indicates lineage anymore.

The Loch Lomond song, which I mentioned before, was played and everyone sang and held hands and danced in and out of the circle with the bride and groom in the middle. It was a rousing affair.

And, before I forget, -- I could have sworn I said this to everyone before I left, but it seems to be forgotten -- do not buy me Christmas presents this year. Really. The Royal Mail isn't terribly good at handling mail, it seems. I won't have any room in my luggage to bring anything you would send back home, and it seems really silly to have something sent to our home address and it waits until May when I can open it. So I really don't need presents this year. Also, unless you make arrangements with Matt don't worry about the boys either. They won't be there to accept packages for most of the month.