HURRICANE WEBSITE AND WEDDINGEvery morning, as soon as we board the magic carpet of the Internet, our first stopping place is the small town of Hurricane, Utah, where we find Ian Scott-Parker's beguiling pictorial website, One Day at a Time.
After enjoying his daily offering for a week or so, and noticing that many of his selections showed scenes of the English countryside, we realised that Ian must be a homesick Pom (sorry, nostalgic Englishman) who had somehow found himself living in desert country 133 miles by road from Las Vegas, Nevada.
We followed a link from Ian's site to the blog (weblog) of John H. Farr, who wrote "My friend Ian Scott-Parker, an expatriate Englishman living in Hurricane, UT, publishes an astoundingly well-crafted one called One Day at a Time. Don't let the modest title fool you, either. Ian is a wealth of wit and information, and you can learn a lot about your world by checking in.
"I think he maintains his sanity in the broiling Utah desert by publishing a steady stream of photos from the English Lake District (and elsewhere). If you drop in, tell him FarrFeed sent you, and say hello to Beth."
Beth is Ian's wife, the former Beth Lock, author of an amusing monthly column in MyMac Magazine, which says of her: "Beth has been around Macintosh computers since 1990, but still doesn't understand how they work. She admits that new software is a pain to learn and rarely upgrades anything. Beth's hobbies include reading the same internet sites every day and googleing her friends to see if they are listed on the internet."
So we googled "Beth Lock" , and found a delightful story in MyMac which explains just how our homesick Pom came to live in the Wild West. The story is called I Married a Mac Man, and describes how they first exchanged emails after My Mac Magazine published one of her stories in November 1999.
"Oh, there were obstacles, one of which was that he lived 6,000 miles away from me, in England," Beth recalled. "But, being a Mac woman who knew the value of a good Mac man, I didn't let such a little thing as distance deter me. After all, this is the age of the internet. The World Wide Web. He was never more than a phone line away. We wrote, and wrote, and wrote to one another, long passionate emails full of hopes, wishes, laughter, crying and dreams. We graduated to Instant Messaging, then to telephone calls. Then it wasn't enough. We had to meet.
"The naysayers warned me. They questioned me. They even prayed for me. But I got on the plane anyhow and flew to Scotland, to meet my Mac man. He booked a two bedroom self-catering cottage for us at Loch Lomond.
"Our agreement was that if one or the other of us didn't smell right to the other, we'd just have a lovely vacation together, and be merrily on our mutual way. He even had the courtesy to write to my father and assure him that his intentions toward me were honorable in every way. Honor, one of the qualities of a true Mac man. I didn't have to see his hardware to know, it was apparent from the moment we met.
"We married two days after we met at the airport in Glasgow, on November 2, 2000. This man didn't haul me off to a preacher, though. No, this is a Mac man. He married me in Hell's Glen overlooking Loch Fyne on that star-filled frosty night...
"On the way back to the cottage he stopped at a take out for fish and chips, for our wedding supper. There were no photographers, no witnesses other than God and the stars. My wedding ring is a silver 'fede' ring, handcrafted in the borders area. Only a Mac man would plan a wedding like that."