I am referencing Scotland and I suppose they would be offended at the term "skirts." They wear kilts.
In case you didn't know...Scottish pride is alive and well in Washington. I know because I spent a day at the Highland Festival in Enumclaw, Washington.
It was loud.
Bagpipes and drums were a popular choice of instrument. No one seemed to be playing them in unison, just random men in kilts and knee socks walking around blowing.
Very interesting.
Perhaps you are wondering if I am trying to get in touch with my Scottish heritage. I do not have any.
Mom had them look up several genealogies because she thinks a Jewish tribe migrated up there at some point. They broke it very gently to her that Lictenwallner was not a Scottish name and did not have a tartan. Not even an ugly tartan.
We went to this event for the sake of Avonlea. She competed with her harp for the first time.
She won first place in the festival beginner competition.
She went on to the finals to win first place also.
She did excellent.
However, she would have won regardless, because she was the only beginning harpist there.
This, my friends, is called anticlimactic.
After the competition, they had what is called a "harp circle" where a group of harpists go around the circle and play, one at a time, a Scottish air.
My younger children, who are so uncultured as to not appreciate 3 hours of harp music, aborted with Dave for the kennels.
Avonlea, Mom, Grant, me, and a bunch of guys and girls in skirts, sat in the shade of a tent and listened enchanted to amazing music.
The wind whispered, the bagpipes droned in the distance, Grant dozed with his head on my lap (it wasn't until he awoke that I saw the pool of drool on my linen skirt), it was truly magical.
My daughter's teacher, played and sang with her sister, and they were delightful, evoking laughter and tears in quick succession.
To think, I would have never known this Scottish beauty if I hadn't come!
As delightful as it was, the children were done after one day, so we decided to head up to Seattle and spend the morning at Pike's Place Market before we went home.
I tried to explain to the kids on the way, that they would probably see quite a few weird people in downtown Seattle.
Grant interrupted with, "Weirder than a bunch of guys in skirts?"
Good point.
However when Rowan saw the man with his head back, balancing a guitar on his chin while he played a harmonica and twirled a hula hoop around his waist, he declared, "I found the weirdo!"
Ahem.
We headed a bit further north after the market and went to the brand new Seattle American Girl store.
My American girls were in doll heaven and my boys found REI.
My mother managed to get lost in the mall....for a really long time. She finally realized that her cell phone was on silence. Dave said he felt like he had five children.
When we finally got everyone rounded up and in the car I asked her what in the world she had been doing that whole time.
She replied, very innocently, "I just ran through Coldwater Creek and a few other...."
Grant interrupted in disgust, "You were running through a cold creek and we were just sitting there waiting for you!"
Definitely time to go home. Too many countries in too short a time. Too many interesting people to process. Time to go on back to reality, where the Jews are in Israel, and men either balance guitars or do hula hoops, where Coldwater Creek is a store, and where men wear pants.
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