Today, I went to a local Scottish Festival. The air was filled with smells of kettle corn and meat pies. There were kilts everywhere. As I ordered a lemonade, I had to raise my voice to be heard over the bagpipes. We arrived at the fairgrounds in time to hear a rousing piece by the Wicked Tinkers. One of the band members was jumping from picnic table to picnic table playing a huge drum. He wasn’t bad looking either. The audience cheered loudly, and a group of very enthusiastic ladies danced it up near the stage. Kilts and rhythm — a deadly combination.
I wish I took more pictures, but that’s hard to do when you’re juggling two kids, a diaper bag, drinks, popcorn and bits of change. There were teas, swords and shields for sale. There were also tea cups with four leaf clovers, tea cups with a map of Scotland, and shortbread. One florid looking man (in a kilt of course) asked me if I wanted to try some shortbread. A few minutes later, I was pulling out $8.50 for a short bread cake.
When I got home, I read the ingredients: Butter, Flour, Sugar, Salt and Love.
I can’t walk away from these festivals empty-handed. I always have to buy something. This year I came away with two bags of kettle corn, a shepherd’s pie and my shortbread (that comes with love). I’m surprised I left the festival without some kind of tartan garment or one of those map of Scotland teacups.
Yes, I know this is not a post about books, but shortbread and books go together, right?