Summer Days and a Tartan Tale

What a gorgeous weekend. As usual far to short. Pictures of our private WWKIPD over on the knitting blog. We thought about going to a more public function but you know I deal with the general public all the time and frankly spending my day off with hoards was not my idea of relaxation. The weather was perfect and the rain never happened. What more could you ask for? Sunday I crashed in the garden to knit and Julia arrived and then stayed over for some supper with us and then I drove her home.

One major accomplishment this weekend was the "cleaning out of my closet." There is no way what fit me last winter will fit me this winter( woo hoo) so out they went. I am of the "change your clothes when you get home from school" generation so my work duds show very little wear and we laughed when I realized I have been wearing some things for about 10 years! ...or more. (cringe) I am going to treat myself to a new kilt for the winter. Mine has become very shabby. It's more than 20 years old. Now that I have my grandmother's cameo I want knit myself a nice "fruity" ( generous, gathered, lacy) jabot to wear with it. Jean made one recently and I am inspired.
I shall have to go to Elora or Fergus to buy my kilt. I know of two excellent Scottish shops in both those towns. They have the where with all to provide me with the correct tartan. ... See left.

I must tell you a story, I don't think I have told it here before. About 20 years ago I had a really nice Black Watch Tartan Kilt that had been sent from Scotland. I had friends who were going to a Tattoo in Toronto and they kindly included me in the group. In keeping with the theme so to speak I wore my best blouse and velvet jacket and my Kilt. We were to stop at a private home in Toronto for drinks and gather another couple before heading out to the Armory. As I removed my winter coat in the foyer of the home, a voice boomed behind me.
"By what right do you wear the Black Watch?" I just about jumped out of my skin. Without even thinking I turned and snapped back, "By right of birth, the Campbell's gave the Black Watch the tartan, I am a Mac Diarmid, Campbell of Breadalbane." The man stood there with his mouth open staring at me. My friend, watched this confrontation and howled with laughter. He knew the moment he saw me that this would happen and had been waiting. What he didn't know was I had the right answer. Turns out his friend was the then President of the Black Watch Society in Toronto, who had a right bee in his bonnet about who should be wearing what tartan. My Nana would have been "reet prude" of me. He laughed pounded me on the back and announced to everyone that I was a "good 'un."
~~fun memories from an other wise very difficult time in my life.