Last year I visited Scotland to research my family history and visit some of the places where the various branches of family originated. I had been there before, of course, but that had been B.D. (Before Dunnett - was there ever such a time?) This time something was different. In addition to the joy of seeing relatives again, I was aware of another familiar presence who seemed to be whispering things in my ear. As I walked down the Royal Mile towards the Canongate, in search of the place where my great-great-grandmother died, I was completely distracted by the thought of a drunken pig in a nearby cellar. I stopped in St. Giles to look for a chapel that I *must* have missed during my first visit. And where would Floory Land have been? And so it went, everywhere I turned in Edinburgh, as real to me as any long lost ancestor. Caithness and Orkney swirled with thoughts of Thorfinn and the history that was old long before my known ancestors struggled to wrench a living from those wind swept shores. I will always be grateful to Dorothy for such wonderful tales which have provided so many dimensions to me of my ancestral homeland. Sheila, Hopewell NJ
Hopewell, NJ |