Tag Archives: Burns Night
In the chip shop in the town in Scotland where my husband grew up, they will literally batter and deep fry anything. Sausages? Why not. Pizza? Obviously. Chocolate bars? Nae problem.
My husband and I are stalked by bagpipers. We go shopping in Edinburgh. There’s a bagpiper. We honeymoon in Paris. Bagpiper. Machu Picchu after three days hiking the Inca Trail. Bagpiper. And now, several blocks away, the dulcet tones of … Continue reading