Authentic, wet, but wonderful

Yesterday, as I had been insisting on for some time, we went to the Scottish Games put on by the Utah Scottish Association. Many of you may know about my obsession, (perhaps unhealthily so) with all things Scottish, and this was the perfect venue to drown myself in something I adore.

First off, it rained. No, let me rephrase, it was a veritable downpour of cats and dogs, and we were drenched within minutes of entering the festival. But, stalwart family that we are, we pushed on, seeking refuge in the performance hall, where we were lucky to hear the group Molly's Revenge. Talk about a Rock Star attitude with a set of bagpipes!!! It was a lot of fun!

Second, my goal of the outing was to see men in kilts. Luckily, I was blessed by seeing many men in kilts. Unfortunately, there was no Jamie from the world of Gabaldon, but I did make due with the tall men throwing cabers around the field! My husband is more than welcome to find a Utilikilt if he would like and wear that, so I may indulge in some Highland fantasy. Wait, that may have come out wrong....or not. There is something about a man in a kilt...not a skirt, but a genuine kilt that is so yummy!

Lastly, I have determined that I am hopelessly lost when it comes to my obsession with Scotland. I shall begin saving my pennies in hopes of wandering the hills some day and truly immerse myself in all that the culture has to offer. I'm not quite sure why this particular place calls to me where others don't. I suppose I could yearn for Sweden, because so much of my heritage hails from there, but it doesn't call to me. Forget the haggis though...I'm not sure the romanticism quite takes itself that far....