Roger and Jane were our first hosts from Helpx.net. The couple extended their home to us, entertained us, and befriended us. We still miss our moments there.
Let me describe this interesting couple.
Jane was in her 50's or 60's with beady, hazel eyes, silver to gray puff for hair, and a little belly that comes with age. She is a potter and the worrier of the two. Our favorite shrill from her is, "Roger!"
Roger, himself, is an intelligent, sociable fellow that reminds us of the older Bilbo Baggins from the Lord of the Rings trilogy. Seriously! He had the side mullets and hobbit appetite to match! He's a very kind and generous person. He is a retired city planner and runs a small organic produce store in the first level of his home. Both R&J run the community, organic garden called Penicuik's Lost Garden. Find them on Facebook!
The way Helpx works is that people who need help with things and people who need basic necessities come together. In exchange for food, shelter, and internet, we worked on whatever project we could do for R&J.
I've mowed their lawn a few times. They have a front yard full of flowers, bricks, Jane's father's gravestone from New Zealand, a gypsy caravan, and several tools for gardening or Jane's pottery studio. There is the overgrown side yard. Then there's the back yard with the compost bins, clotheslines, greenhouse, firewood, and small herb garden that was behind their home at the 3rd floor (4th for Europeans) and is connected to the town hall.
As I mowed their lawn for the first time, Miguel organized Jane's showroom. She needed it to look presentable to show off her wares and her students to potential customers as they peruse Roger's store. One time, I checked on Miguel and found him hugging a sewer's mannequin in mid-lift, preparing to deliver it to an upstairs bedroom. After moving items, dusting heavily, and writing price signs, Miguel helped Roger with the store. In fact, every Saturday when the store was open, Miguel was there to help with the prices, finding items, and answering any questions. After one week, he organized the entire store where things made sense and there were no more cobwebs drooping from the roof to tickle your hair. It was needed and a drastic improvement.
Typically, I was in the town hall on Saturdays helping with R&J's Lost Garden produce be on display, extra bread, and help man the small cafe. We served little desserts that was coupled with tea, juice, or coffee. It was my introduction to the UK's obsession with tea and milk (which Jane explained later on). I even helped the cafe by making soup for them and baking a Tres Leches cake and a chocolate ginger cake. (I love to bake. It's fun for me! Too bad it's not well received in my own home....we don't need the sweets.) At the town hall's cafe, two language exchange groups called YakYak held their meetings there - French and German. We made friends with many of the reoccurring people, who were generally older. There was even one time where I was able to practice my lace making skills with bone bobbins....I don't think I'll pick it up as a hobby.
Storytime on tea and why the Brits put milk in it! When tea was first introduced from Asia, it was the craze! Just like cake, it was for the higher class. The thing was, they liked it hot. Why was that a problem? Namely because their dishes couldn't withstand the heat. The higher class was able to have tea due to their porcelain china sets, which were a pretty shilling coming from China. Peasants only had earthware dishes due to what they could make from the local clay. How could they have their high class tea and not split their cup in two? Add something cold! What did they have that was cold and would taste well with it? Milk. Peasants would add milk in their cup before adding the tea and it wouldn't break their cup. Since most of the populace was not high class, it caught on. Tada! Now you know. Thank you, Jane the potter.
Continuing, our stay in their home was lovely. I have a lot to say about what went on. We were given hugs consistently, a cup of tea in the morning with a complimentary kiss on the forehead in bed, and fed heartily. And all of that came from Roger! (He 's affectionate.) We felt so welcomed. They both told us numerous stories, their family history, and their travels. We've learned that Roger's side are very Scottish with their own kilts and that Jane's is more complicated.
Jane's father comes from New Zealand and her mother is from Burma. She traveled all over the world as a small child (after her father died in a plane crash which tickets from that airline were given as an apology) and moved to England for the long run. In the country where he died, they were going to get rid of her father's stone. Her siblings then traveled to collect it and it is now in her garden....just the stone, not daddy.
When we arrived, we were told that the weather was like an "Indian summer" and that we must have brought the sunshine from California. ;-)
After having long conversations at dinner, where we had both traditional haggis and vegetarian haggis with Scottish bannock bread on the side, we would move into the tv room to watch a film. Roger loved to show older films that we enjoyed. I remember watching /Black Narcissus/ and /Some Like It Hot/. I'll admit, it was my first Marilyn Monroe movie and I now know why she is Hollywood's sweetheart after having lived there. The one movie that was a little out of the usual with what we watched was /Strangers on a Train/, a Hitchcock film and Roger's favorite director. I enjoyed it! I'd recommend it to people. I think I enjoy how is was suspenseful and not bloody horror. The same with the other Hitchcock film we watched /Rear Window/.
Oddly enough, they only showed us the Lost Garden once. We were told by their friends that we were the only helpers out of so many that DIDN'T work in the garden. We were too busy organizing their large home! It's probably still a mess.
We had to clean their meeting room for their Quaker meeting. The room had large portraits of various things and party flags draping from the ceiling. The Quakers met monthly and we attended two of them. They gathered in this large room with several chairs and couches to sit in silence in front of a flickering fireplace. You're supposed to "just be" but you cannot help but think. The silence would last an hour and then a small speech. Afterwards, people update each other of their lives whilst having tea or coffee. Cookies, or biscuits to them, pass around and then Roger's soup is served for everyone with Belle's bread. Oh, Belle....that's another post. She's a good friend. Anyways, we became fond of soups while being in chilly UK.
After one meeting, I was invited to sing with Roger's group in Rosslyn Chapel, where I got to see the famous Green Man. We walked downstairs to a chamber that had great acoustics. We could hear ourselves clearly through the chill of the room. I sang alongside my German-turned-Scottish friend Adelhide. The songs were rounds where once the song was finished you'd start again and maybe add some ornamentaion or harmonization. I'd learn the tune from Adelhide or another woman called Morgra, who would sing on her soprano toes. It was a lot of fun to come together just to sing.
That was before the Referendum. Oh my goodness, was that something! You'd have some interesting conversations on "Yes" or "No" from people and why they chose what they were going to vote for. There were so many Yes people that we were surprised that it was a "No, thanks." Throughout Scotland there were Scottish flags with giant Yes's on them and Yes in fields and Yes in windows. People really thought that Scotland could become independent or be stuck with England if they were to secede from the EU. While the Yes's were large, there would be the defiance towards them with small "No, thanks" stickers in home windows. Most of those people didn't want any change or thought that this wasn't the right time to separate. We felt the pressure rise as the date crept closer until it popped! It was a no. Our hosts were happy with that. Others weren't.
One day, I walked around on my own. I crossed a bridge that was built in 1811-1812 that led me to a path going uphill. On that hill, I found the ruins and rubble of the castle across the valley. I sneaked onto the property and managed to get inside the castle, after scaring a deer to leap away. I climbed the castle to the highest point that I could and basked in Penicuik's valley and countryside with the sun high in the air. Gorgeously green. I thought, "Wow, I'm sitting on a castle. If I told my childhood self that I would have been able to travel to Scotland and touch a castle, I probably would think it only a nice story. But here I am!" I even saw Valleyfield (Roger's) house across the way and its archway entrance. The opposite of what I saw on a normal basis.
We've had so much fun in such a small town. One adventure was to Portobello beach, to the east of Edinburgh. Roger travels to Dilandara Bar to rehearse with a choir group and invited us to enjoy a pint, some songs, and the beach. We couldn't miss out on an opportunity where we could be near the water again. Plus, it would be our first beach within the UK.
The bar was lit with people laughing and strumming guitars. We split from Roger to walk along the flat extended beach and reach a restaurant he recommended called Epsy's. The sun was setting on the gray day and we were in our coats. Dogs played fetch and ran along the waves. Portobello was another sleepy, small town. It happened to be where Roger spent most of his childhood. We walked, appreciating that thought, into town to see old churches and stone homes with plenty of Referendum propaganda.
We did make it to Epsy's. It was Australian themed and we had to convince a waiter to let us sit at a reserved table that wasn't going to be used for another hour and a half. We ordered a small entry, which wasn't small - Epsy nachos. It was your typical nachos, which refueled our guacomole fuel, but it had cinnamon on it. Hmmmm.....interesting. The cinnamon added flavor to the beef and beans in it. Later on, we talked with a nearby couple that attempted to pay with a card with a confused waitress....without a chip. Americans! They were a lovely retired couple from Arizona traveling around. We discussed our woes on our American Express, chip-less, card and the difficulties we have had. It was a nice refuel to talk with some Americans. Btw, our waiter was from Barcelona. We soon met with Roger and walked back to the car to witness the glowing orange moon.
On another trip with Roger through some iconic hills, we picked up cagefree eggs from a cute chicken farm. The chickens were so happy running about! Before we saw those happy, cluckers, we traveled to Selfirk to meet Robbie and the textile mill he worked in. Roger goes to him for the finest wool productions and sells them in Penicuik. Selkirk wool, tweed, and tartan are famous! They even made the wool jacket that Dr.Who wears along with other famous entertainment/fashion venues. All of them came from one man in a textile mill, Robbie. The mill was old, dusty, and LOUD. Robbie stopped his project to show us around and, I think, soak in any form of outside contact.
He explained how the machines worked, how old they were, and gave us a demonstration. These giant, oiled machines were older than the Titanic! They still worked their magic with the quality wool, too. I did tell Miguel that we should have brought ear plugs, though.
Robbie took us upstairs to see his creations and they were breathtaking. Their colors and patterns were astonishing and soft! I remember one throw that had little flecks of random colors in them and Robbie explained that a special type of sheep's wool collected bugs and that wool came out with those bug flecks. "It's very popular," Robbie said in his Scottish accent, his blue eyes looking past his bottleneck glasses.
We wanted one! ...Too expensive. BUT Miguel was able to find a piece of leftover strings somewhere on the floor. That was a good enough gift for us! Our gray, beige, gold, red, blue, orange, green, purple, and maroon string is interwoven with our golden Sequoia cone from the General Grant Tree!
Aside from Robbie and chickens, we sidetracked to a town with Roger's favorite book store. As always, everyone seems to know Roger and his shop. The storekeeper chatted away with him about the latest and of his book orders. It was a small store that matched the small town. I loved the quaintness.
Beside the store, we had our first mutton pie. For you who don't know, mutton is sheep meat. I could describe it as similar to beef but with more grease. We had it cold. Miguel tried it cold but soon replaced it with a chicken pie.
The whole car trip was littered with sheep alongside Scotland's green, rolling hills. We curled around hillsides and saw beaucolic views of little towns and the world passing by with Roger pointing this and that out with its own history. I don't think he ever stopped talking with all of the knowledge that he had.
Another person we were to meet was Mike. A short, rotund man with a peppered goatee and a red face. He was peculiar in that he was one of those types of people was set in what he liked and rarely ventured far from it. Roger mentioned that one of those things was his choice of white wine. He was also one for plans to be no time exactly. We were almost late walking to his home around the corner but he welcomed us in with a gruff. We sat in his garden, drank wine, and nibbled on a snack. We discussed history, history preservation, wars, books, cultures, and whatever poured with the wine. We soon left to grab our "take away" for dinner, boxes of Indian food from a "posh" place. Mmm, it was so good! We went there a few more times to enjoy their Sunday evening buffet.
I've mentioned that Jane was a potter. Well, I wanted her to show me her trade and I got that chance. First, I helped her pound a clump of clay to prepare for an upcoming class. It was heavy and full of rocks. I picked it up, threw it down, cut it in half, smashed the halves together, and repeated the process at another angle. My biceps got a workout. Eventually, I was allowed to use a prepared clay to use for my own project. I had a hard time with the wheel but Jane showed me a few tips. I liked the feeling of the soft, wet clay. I didn't like the wheel grinding the sides of my hand. My first creation was a tiny, warped vase that looked like an egg pod from the Alien series. ...I gave it to Jane, haha. My second is what I kept. I made a saucer to hold our keys and change, like we wanted. It swirls int he middle outward and has two designs that represent our names in a language that Miguel and I know. I put my initials JP on the side, carved Penicuik on the bottom, and asked Jane to cook it. I have it and I love it.....it's just too bad that I missed out on the chance to glaze it because I traveled to Loch Ness (that's another post). :( I wanted our dish to be the famous Penicuik blue. Jane told us that we could easily find a potter to finishe it in LA....but I wanted her to do it. Oh well, at least we have my creation! We just have to be careful while traveling around. It already has one chip.
Our time at Roger and Jane's was superb. We miss that little town and the life we briefly had for a month. We created great memories and friends. We will miss you, Penicuik! As a traveler, you are given a gift and curse of constantly meeting people and experiencing opportunities with an eventual stage exit to reach the next theater.
Thank you, Roger and Jane. Thank you for our Penicuik act and the characters you introduced us to. Miguel and I have taken our bow. We were on the road again to our next theater.
Let me describe this interesting couple.
Jane was in her 50's or 60's with beady, hazel eyes, silver to gray puff for hair, and a little belly that comes with age. She is a potter and the worrier of the two. Our favorite shrill from her is, "Roger!"
Roger, himself, is an intelligent, sociable fellow that reminds us of the older Bilbo Baggins from the Lord of the Rings trilogy. Seriously! He had the side mullets and hobbit appetite to match! He's a very kind and generous person. He is a retired city planner and runs a small organic produce store in the first level of his home. Both R&J run the community, organic garden called Penicuik's Lost Garden. Find them on Facebook!
The way Helpx works is that people who need help with things and people who need basic necessities come together. In exchange for food, shelter, and internet, we worked on whatever project we could do for R&J.
I've mowed their lawn a few times. They have a front yard full of flowers, bricks, Jane's father's gravestone from New Zealand, a gypsy caravan, and several tools for gardening or Jane's pottery studio. There is the overgrown side yard. Then there's the back yard with the compost bins, clotheslines, greenhouse, firewood, and small herb garden that was behind their home at the 3rd floor (4th for Europeans) and is connected to the town hall.
As I mowed their lawn for the first time, Miguel organized Jane's showroom. She needed it to look presentable to show off her wares and her students to potential customers as they peruse Roger's store. One time, I checked on Miguel and found him hugging a sewer's mannequin in mid-lift, preparing to deliver it to an upstairs bedroom. After moving items, dusting heavily, and writing price signs, Miguel helped Roger with the store. In fact, every Saturday when the store was open, Miguel was there to help with the prices, finding items, and answering any questions. After one week, he organized the entire store where things made sense and there were no more cobwebs drooping from the roof to tickle your hair. It was needed and a drastic improvement.
Typically, I was in the town hall on Saturdays helping with R&J's Lost Garden produce be on display, extra bread, and help man the small cafe. We served little desserts that was coupled with tea, juice, or coffee. It was my introduction to the UK's obsession with tea and milk (which Jane explained later on). I even helped the cafe by making soup for them and baking a Tres Leches cake and a chocolate ginger cake. (I love to bake. It's fun for me! Too bad it's not well received in my own home....we don't need the sweets.) At the town hall's cafe, two language exchange groups called YakYak held their meetings there - French and German. We made friends with many of the reoccurring people, who were generally older. There was even one time where I was able to practice my lace making skills with bone bobbins....I don't think I'll pick it up as a hobby.
Storytime on tea and why the Brits put milk in it! When tea was first introduced from Asia, it was the craze! Just like cake, it was for the higher class. The thing was, they liked it hot. Why was that a problem? Namely because their dishes couldn't withstand the heat. The higher class was able to have tea due to their porcelain china sets, which were a pretty shilling coming from China. Peasants only had earthware dishes due to what they could make from the local clay. How could they have their high class tea and not split their cup in two? Add something cold! What did they have that was cold and would taste well with it? Milk. Peasants would add milk in their cup before adding the tea and it wouldn't break their cup. Since most of the populace was not high class, it caught on. Tada! Now you know. Thank you, Jane the potter.
Continuing, our stay in their home was lovely. I have a lot to say about what went on. We were given hugs consistently, a cup of tea in the morning with a complimentary kiss on the forehead in bed, and fed heartily. And all of that came from Roger! (He 's affectionate.) We felt so welcomed. They both told us numerous stories, their family history, and their travels. We've learned that Roger's side are very Scottish with their own kilts and that Jane's is more complicated.
Jane's father comes from New Zealand and her mother is from Burma. She traveled all over the world as a small child (after her father died in a plane crash which tickets from that airline were given as an apology) and moved to England for the long run. In the country where he died, they were going to get rid of her father's stone. Her siblings then traveled to collect it and it is now in her garden....just the stone, not daddy.
When we arrived, we were told that the weather was like an "Indian summer" and that we must have brought the sunshine from California. ;-)
After having long conversations at dinner, where we had both traditional haggis and vegetarian haggis with Scottish bannock bread on the side, we would move into the tv room to watch a film. Roger loved to show older films that we enjoyed. I remember watching /Black Narcissus/ and /Some Like It Hot/. I'll admit, it was my first Marilyn Monroe movie and I now know why she is Hollywood's sweetheart after having lived there. The one movie that was a little out of the usual with what we watched was /Strangers on a Train/, a Hitchcock film and Roger's favorite director. I enjoyed it! I'd recommend it to people. I think I enjoy how is was suspenseful and not bloody horror. The same with the other Hitchcock film we watched /Rear Window/.
Oddly enough, they only showed us the Lost Garden once. We were told by their friends that we were the only helpers out of so many that DIDN'T work in the garden. We were too busy organizing their large home! It's probably still a mess.
We had to clean their meeting room for their Quaker meeting. The room had large portraits of various things and party flags draping from the ceiling. The Quakers met monthly and we attended two of them. They gathered in this large room with several chairs and couches to sit in silence in front of a flickering fireplace. You're supposed to "just be" but you cannot help but think. The silence would last an hour and then a small speech. Afterwards, people update each other of their lives whilst having tea or coffee. Cookies, or biscuits to them, pass around and then Roger's soup is served for everyone with Belle's bread. Oh, Belle....that's another post. She's a good friend. Anyways, we became fond of soups while being in chilly UK.
After one meeting, I was invited to sing with Roger's group in Rosslyn Chapel, where I got to see the famous Green Man. We walked downstairs to a chamber that had great acoustics. We could hear ourselves clearly through the chill of the room. I sang alongside my German-turned-Scottish friend Adelhide. The songs were rounds where once the song was finished you'd start again and maybe add some ornamentaion or harmonization. I'd learn the tune from Adelhide or another woman called Morgra, who would sing on her soprano toes. It was a lot of fun to come together just to sing.
That was before the Referendum. Oh my goodness, was that something! You'd have some interesting conversations on "Yes" or "No" from people and why they chose what they were going to vote for. There were so many Yes people that we were surprised that it was a "No, thanks." Throughout Scotland there were Scottish flags with giant Yes's on them and Yes in fields and Yes in windows. People really thought that Scotland could become independent or be stuck with England if they were to secede from the EU. While the Yes's were large, there would be the defiance towards them with small "No, thanks" stickers in home windows. Most of those people didn't want any change or thought that this wasn't the right time to separate. We felt the pressure rise as the date crept closer until it popped! It was a no. Our hosts were happy with that. Others weren't.
One day, I walked around on my own. I crossed a bridge that was built in 1811-1812 that led me to a path going uphill. On that hill, I found the ruins and rubble of the castle across the valley. I sneaked onto the property and managed to get inside the castle, after scaring a deer to leap away. I climbed the castle to the highest point that I could and basked in Penicuik's valley and countryside with the sun high in the air. Gorgeously green. I thought, "Wow, I'm sitting on a castle. If I told my childhood self that I would have been able to travel to Scotland and touch a castle, I probably would think it only a nice story. But here I am!" I even saw Valleyfield (Roger's) house across the way and its archway entrance. The opposite of what I saw on a normal basis.
We've had so much fun in such a small town. One adventure was to Portobello beach, to the east of Edinburgh. Roger travels to Dilandara Bar to rehearse with a choir group and invited us to enjoy a pint, some songs, and the beach. We couldn't miss out on an opportunity where we could be near the water again. Plus, it would be our first beach within the UK.
The bar was lit with people laughing and strumming guitars. We split from Roger to walk along the flat extended beach and reach a restaurant he recommended called Epsy's. The sun was setting on the gray day and we were in our coats. Dogs played fetch and ran along the waves. Portobello was another sleepy, small town. It happened to be where Roger spent most of his childhood. We walked, appreciating that thought, into town to see old churches and stone homes with plenty of Referendum propaganda.
We did make it to Epsy's. It was Australian themed and we had to convince a waiter to let us sit at a reserved table that wasn't going to be used for another hour and a half. We ordered a small entry, which wasn't small - Epsy nachos. It was your typical nachos, which refueled our guacomole fuel, but it had cinnamon on it. Hmmmm.....interesting. The cinnamon added flavor to the beef and beans in it. Later on, we talked with a nearby couple that attempted to pay with a card with a confused waitress....without a chip. Americans! They were a lovely retired couple from Arizona traveling around. We discussed our woes on our American Express, chip-less, card and the difficulties we have had. It was a nice refuel to talk with some Americans. Btw, our waiter was from Barcelona. We soon met with Roger and walked back to the car to witness the glowing orange moon.
On another trip with Roger through some iconic hills, we picked up cagefree eggs from a cute chicken farm. The chickens were so happy running about! Before we saw those happy, cluckers, we traveled to Selfirk to meet Robbie and the textile mill he worked in. Roger goes to him for the finest wool productions and sells them in Penicuik. Selkirk wool, tweed, and tartan are famous! They even made the wool jacket that Dr.Who wears along with other famous entertainment/fashion venues. All of them came from one man in a textile mill, Robbie. The mill was old, dusty, and LOUD. Robbie stopped his project to show us around and, I think, soak in any form of outside contact.
He explained how the machines worked, how old they were, and gave us a demonstration. These giant, oiled machines were older than the Titanic! They still worked their magic with the quality wool, too. I did tell Miguel that we should have brought ear plugs, though.
Robbie took us upstairs to see his creations and they were breathtaking. Their colors and patterns were astonishing and soft! I remember one throw that had little flecks of random colors in them and Robbie explained that a special type of sheep's wool collected bugs and that wool came out with those bug flecks. "It's very popular," Robbie said in his Scottish accent, his blue eyes looking past his bottleneck glasses.
We wanted one! ...Too expensive. BUT Miguel was able to find a piece of leftover strings somewhere on the floor. That was a good enough gift for us! Our gray, beige, gold, red, blue, orange, green, purple, and maroon string is interwoven with our golden Sequoia cone from the General Grant Tree!
Aside from Robbie and chickens, we sidetracked to a town with Roger's favorite book store. As always, everyone seems to know Roger and his shop. The storekeeper chatted away with him about the latest and of his book orders. It was a small store that matched the small town. I loved the quaintness.
Beside the store, we had our first mutton pie. For you who don't know, mutton is sheep meat. I could describe it as similar to beef but with more grease. We had it cold. Miguel tried it cold but soon replaced it with a chicken pie.
The whole car trip was littered with sheep alongside Scotland's green, rolling hills. We curled around hillsides and saw beaucolic views of little towns and the world passing by with Roger pointing this and that out with its own history. I don't think he ever stopped talking with all of the knowledge that he had.
Another person we were to meet was Mike. A short, rotund man with a peppered goatee and a red face. He was peculiar in that he was one of those types of people was set in what he liked and rarely ventured far from it. Roger mentioned that one of those things was his choice of white wine. He was also one for plans to be no time exactly. We were almost late walking to his home around the corner but he welcomed us in with a gruff. We sat in his garden, drank wine, and nibbled on a snack. We discussed history, history preservation, wars, books, cultures, and whatever poured with the wine. We soon left to grab our "take away" for dinner, boxes of Indian food from a "posh" place. Mmm, it was so good! We went there a few more times to enjoy their Sunday evening buffet.
I've mentioned that Jane was a potter. Well, I wanted her to show me her trade and I got that chance. First, I helped her pound a clump of clay to prepare for an upcoming class. It was heavy and full of rocks. I picked it up, threw it down, cut it in half, smashed the halves together, and repeated the process at another angle. My biceps got a workout. Eventually, I was allowed to use a prepared clay to use for my own project. I had a hard time with the wheel but Jane showed me a few tips. I liked the feeling of the soft, wet clay. I didn't like the wheel grinding the sides of my hand. My first creation was a tiny, warped vase that looked like an egg pod from the Alien series. ...I gave it to Jane, haha. My second is what I kept. I made a saucer to hold our keys and change, like we wanted. It swirls int he middle outward and has two designs that represent our names in a language that Miguel and I know. I put my initials JP on the side, carved Penicuik on the bottom, and asked Jane to cook it. I have it and I love it.....it's just too bad that I missed out on the chance to glaze it because I traveled to Loch Ness (that's another post). :( I wanted our dish to be the famous Penicuik blue. Jane told us that we could easily find a potter to finishe it in LA....but I wanted her to do it. Oh well, at least we have my creation! We just have to be careful while traveling around. It already has one chip.
Our time at Roger and Jane's was superb. We miss that little town and the life we briefly had for a month. We created great memories and friends. We will miss you, Penicuik! As a traveler, you are given a gift and curse of constantly meeting people and experiencing opportunities with an eventual stage exit to reach the next theater.
Thank you, Roger and Jane. Thank you for our Penicuik act and the characters you introduced us to. Miguel and I have taken our bow. We were on the road again to our next theater.