Years ago, a bunch of friends and I went to the Highland Games in Fergus Ontario. It was good to romp around and get sort of rowdy. I’d worked an entire night shift of twelve hours before the idea even popped into my head that I’d like to go with them, so I was pretty exhausted, and I think I agreed to go on the condition that I’d drive there and back so that I could theoretically decide to leave if I wanted to. Bagpipes and kilts a-plenty and miles and miles away from home, plopped in the middle of a field on their lawn chairs in their tilly hats… were my grandparents.

Ab and Joyce

Field of Kilts

Grant, Rhonda, Trevor





