Helps Celtic Mission

Monday was a UK Bank Holiday, also memorial day in the USA. The Church shut down its finance systems for the day. The President invited us to take Monday off, so we made a few bookings and dashed across to Northern Ireland. We overnighted in Cairnryan on the Scottish West Coast, and then hopped onto the ferry very early next morning. The ferry trip was breezy and cool. We stayed indoors for most of it and enjoyed the view through the windows. We were on the road in Ireland before 10 AM and followed a glorious coastal road up northwards. Just watching the passing scenery and the waves breaking on the rocks reminded us why it is called the Emerald Isle.  On the way we passed through Ballycastle, where they were celebrating summer with a festival on the green near the beach . This had the same feel as all the summer "days" in Utah--you know "Strawberry Days", "Lamb Days", "Rodeo Days" etc.   We loved the seafront a

We are a little behind with the stories of our lives; somehow sleep has been more important than typing lately.  Tonight, however, we managed to leave the office about 5:30 pm, and promised ourselves that we would do a little blogging before the night was over. Cast your mind back to a spot of ancient history - the weekend of of May 5th and 6th. Monday May 7th was a bank holiday, and el Presidente decided that the mission office staff should have the day off. He announced this with a truly benevolent smile on his face, and even even told us a few days before the weekend, so we could make plans. Louise managed to text every young missionary in the mission, to warn them that the office would be closed Saturday, Sunday and Monday, and if they needed train tickets or anything else would they pretty please contact us by Friday morning, so we could sort things out before we all left. She entered the numbers into her mission cell phone organised by Zone and Area, so they won't have to b

Today I climbed the Radical road. Radical Road, climbing Salisbury Crag, Holyrood You could easily be pardoned for assuming the name comes from the radical steepness of its slopes but that would not be correct. The road, and its name, is the semi-good ending to a quite tragic piece of Scottish history. After the Napoleonic wars things were rough in Scotland--and in much of the British Empire. War is always expensive and after the euphoria of winning wears off the munitions and damages must be paid for. So wages were dropping while the wealthy were looking for ways to recoup and increase their wealth. Many traditional shepherds and other agricultural workers were moved off their lands and skilled artisans, notably weavers, found that their semi-independent lifestyle was converted into working for a boss for declining wages. By the early 1800's weavers wages were half what they had been just a few years before and trouble came in the form of strikes, and uprisings. The Scotti