Talk about another world, B and I ended the week by attending the annual celebration of all things Scottish here in North Texas. The Texas Scottish Festival and Highland Games. And thoroughly immersed ourselves in Scottish music, food and crafts.
OK, that last one isn't strictly true. I hated haggis.
It happened to me last year at the festival and it happened to me again this year. When we entered the grounds and heard the bagpipes, I felt a tremendous wash of nostalgia. Suddenly I was 9 years old again and following my dad's pipe band down a parade route. Or getting ready to dance the Highland Fling in a competition. And I started to cry. Terribly embarrassing, but I don't think anyone noticed. Or at least I hope not.
Once I recovered, we did all of the usual things. Shopped, listened to music, followed the pipe bands around the grounds, drank beer (too much beer), ate meat pies and sausage rolls and enjoyed the May sunshine.