Scotty and I have been feeling a bit stir-crazy since our Italy trip was cancelled. Unfortunately this coincided with my work schedule becoming a bit more hectic and a foot injury that prevents me from being my usual active self. This has resulted in a few quiet weekends – weekends that found me icing my foot and Scotty trying to think of things to do that didn’t require lots of walking. In our city there just aren’t that many things to do that fit that description but after three weeks of putting all my energy into work and finding myself spent when the weekend rolled around I had had enough. Especially after I had a revelation at work on Friday. As a foreigner living in Britain I have first hand experience of the difficulty of finding work. While I was mopping the floor at work and looking at my co-workers from Slovakia, France, Spain, and Poland it suddenly hit me. We were all “doing jobs British people didn’t want to do.” Now I know that we aren’t picking tomatoes in burning hot temperatures like the Hispanic immigrants in America but I do have a lot more sympathy for the people who come to America and do those jobs. As in America it’s mostly foreigners here in Britain that keep your coffee cups filled, your floors clean, your food shelved, and your tables bussed. My coworkers are all university educated, fluent in at least two languages, and experienced world travelers but the job market is such that we’re all reheating food and serving soup to the British citizens who keep the banks running…more or less. Anyway. On Saturday I had had enough of sedentary weekends – I popped some tylenol and we decided to climb the Walter Scott Monument. We’d been wanting to do this for a while and Saturday was sunny (not warm but sunny and we’ve learned to take what you get here) and the sky was dramatic. The lighting was perfect – all the greens in the gardens were vibrant – the flowers glowing – the sky bright. Spectacular!