I hear it’s as tough as a marathon. This year my husband pulled a muscle running down the hill. Albeit, he finished the race and enjoyed the whole adventure. The winner was an Italian in a kilt, which is friggin’ heavy!

There is no way to capture the actual experience in a video. You must go one day!

We spent a charming afternoon watching sheep dog trials “in a field” in Ballogie not far from our Scottish home. Seriously, the location was simply “in a field.” Of course, Ballogie is small enough that the all local farmers know exactly where to go. We saw the flyers posted and then learned that our dear friends were involved with the organizing. So, we had to go.

It was my first sheep dog trials ever and it was delightful.  I brought two cameras, a new and fabulous Nikon and an out-of-date camcorder. It still records fond memories, though. So, I created a little video to share. It says a lot more than I can in words. So, please enjoy this special event.

The video doesn’t do the vision of our hike from our steading to the Balfour estate any justice. Nature is just far more beautiful. However, please enjoy.

… and Happy New Year to you and your loved ones.

The biggest day of my life turned out to be a magical fairy-tale, as enchanting as our engagement photo above, which we call “Flying Kiss.”  

Saturday, I got married in the Scottish Highlands to my long-time Scottish boyfriend.  We were married in a historic community church built of granite walls and slate roof in the idyllic countryside of Birse. The church, the Birse Kirk, was originally built a few hundred years ago, but the date is not exactly known.  

On the way to the church, I was held up by sheep in the road!  It was a classic Scottish experience, giving the event a perfect beginning.  Once there, 20 minutes late, my father escorted me down the isle to bagpipes playing “Amazing Grace.”  My husband was incredibly handsome standing in the front of the church in his formal kilt.  My great-great-great Grandmother’s cameo perfectly adorned my vintage inspired dress designed by Claire Pettibone. My ensemble was topped off with a Cochran clan tartan shawl backed in a soft, pastel velvet.

We bound our commitment by handfasting, an ancient celtic tradition of tying hands together during the vows.  We pronounced our vows during a Humanist ceremony, vows in which we each wrote ourselves.  Our ceremony ended festively.  We threw Mardi Gras beads to our guests!  It was one of several ways of which we combined my Louisiana background with his Scottish background.

The reception that followed was held at my husband’s family’s estate, Balfour, nestled in the Forrest of Birse and surrounded by green rolling hills as far as the eye can see. Our guests were serenaded by a Scottish fiddler and accordionist all evening.  The Scottish jig broke out in the wee hours and the whole evening was over way too soon.  We stretched the night out until 4 AM by inviting the hardiest of our remaining guests to our steading-conversion home 300 yards down the gravel road from Balfour to sip Scotch by the fire.

It was a perfect day in so many ways … never to be forgotten.