This year's Scottish festival is going to be while we're away so we'll miss it. It just so happens that it's hubby's clan that's being honored. I was going to get Cheeky Wee Angus MacBrian a cute little kilt, with flashings and all. Ah well.
Last time we were there, we met a very nice, very crazy old Scotsman who complained that we spelled our name like pawkie sassenachs and that we need to drop the "e". He kept giving my kids cookies though because he melted every time my daughter said "thank you" and gave one to the baby. He was just googoo for her. He reminded me of my grandpa. She would have weaseled him out of all his cookies too.
I've met a few Scottish people in my everyday life, and as far as I know, only one wasn't a raving crazyperson. She might have been though, and I just didn't know about it. The others though, they just go nuts when something sets them off. Pretty much like the Celts in my family. Yeah, the same really, just different unitelligible accents. So that's probably another reason that guy reminded me of my grandpa. I could totally see my grandfather ranting about something like that. He was a head-butter too. Hilarious.
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