I went back to the portrait gallery to pick out someone to write about. My mother had responded strongly to an exhibit on the Stuart princess Henriette, so that was the first place I looked, but most of her life involved the French court and political relations between France and Britain. Which really isn’t an issue at all until you take into account the fact that I know next to nothing about the politics and monarchy in either country during any time period, meaning I would have to do a lot of research if I wanted to try and write anything about the people shown.

Luckily, right next door there was an exhibit on Women of Nineteenth Century Scotland. Among the women was Mary Somerville, who contributed to the mathematical and scientific field during her time. Normally science and math, while subjects I understand and am good at, aren’t at the top of my List of Subjects I Really Like, but the blurb on Mrs. Somerville spoke to me because her parents tried to actively discourage her scientific pursuits and she went on teaching herself math anyway. Triumph through adversity is a very common theme in stories that people feel are worth telling, and it’s a theme that I respond to. So during the rest of the week I spent time researching her life and reading her Personal Recollections.

“Sorry dad, I can’t hear your concerns that math will make me lose my delicate female mind over the sound of Algebra.”

I also visited St. Giles, though my reason for doing so was a little odd. I’d walked by it before and taken pictures of the outside, but hadn’t felt the need to go in. When my parents were visiting they’d gone in and visited the gift shop, where my mom bought a booklet of stamps, only to later realize that three booklets had gotten stuck together, so she’d accidently robbed the store – which exists to help maintain the church – of two books of stamps. Since they were already back in the states, I was tasked with removing this bad karma. I went to make a donation and paid to take pictures as well.

The Thistle Chapel had an insane amount of details. I shall give you, as an example, this very dejected bear that was carved into one of the seat dividers. Look at him. He just wanted to maul people. Is that too much to ask?

This is probably my favorite stained glass window ever. It manages to accomplish the only goals most stained windows have – telling some sort of story first, being artistically pleasing within each individual frame second – without sacrificing the comprehensiveness of the window as a whole or forcing the artistic side to play second fiddle.

This week also marked the last classes I had for both writing classes. In one we got the opportunity to listen to one of the other teachers at Napier tell his life story, in particular the trips that he’d taken with Habitat for Humanity.

Speaking of houses, this is the second place I’ve seen that house spray-painted and I. Don’t. Know. What. It. Is.