On the 9th day of Christmas, my true love gave to me

He took me to the local Scottish Highland Games, and we saw
nice laddies dancing.
a maid a-milking
seven wanton women,
six geezers lying,
five old things,
four falling birds,
three wrench sets
two purple gloves,
and a part-red ginger bear tree.

I really enjoy the Highland games. Have you ever been? These are competitions sprung from real work. For example, there's hurling the stone. The stone weighs about 54 pounds. I can barely lift it. It is raised over the head and cast as far away as possible. It gives a whole new reality to the expression, "it's just a stone's throw away." The athletes have immense hairy calves, broad shoulders, ruddy cheeks, and infectious booming laughs. And the guys are pretty impressive, too.

I relish the sound of the bagpipes. I enjoy the food (how about a hard-boiled egg swaddled in ground sausage, rolled in crumbs, and fried to a deelicious, artery-clogging crisp?) The kids, from five years old on up are competing in piping and dancing and athletic events. One local Scottish girl married a nice Japanese gentleman. He and both of his almond-eyed children are a force to be reckoned in the piping competitions.

Of course, my years of weaving plaid for Pendleton's fabric design department has left me with an auger eye for tartans. I have been know to stop passing strangers, grab the hem of the kilt, spread a pleat or two and demand, "That's not an Ancient MacKenzie, is it?" Luckily, everyone there knows what I'm talking about. I haven't been reported to security once!

No pictures today. I finished the February socks for Miz. G, but no photos till she gets them. And I am well along on a set of pop-up paws for Linda's birthday, but no photos on THOSE till they are delivered. I got the Red Scarf projects mailed off, as well as the single extortion sock, so I have done a decent day's work already. Now to fold laundry and write on the Western. HiYo Silver! Away!