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.
A lot of you know that my father was Scottish. He was a member of a pipe band and I was a competitive highland dancer. We ate meat pies and sausage rolls and clootie dumplings as often as my mother would let us, which of course wasn't often enough for us. Didn't everyone grow up in a house filled with the skirl of bagpipes? Didn't everyone have clootie dumplings on their birthdays instead of birthday cakes? Didn't everyone love haggis?
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.
An added attraction this year was the British Open Claret Jug. The actual one that is presented each year to the winner of the British Open Golf Tournament. It is 146 years old. Of course B had to pose with it,
So all in all, a wonderful day.
Scots wae hae!
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.
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