Maybe because it’s summer, sunny and hot and it’s Christmas and it’s supposed to be cold and snowy.
Certainly because Walker’s shortbreads are sold everywhere but I know nothing compares to granny mck’s homemade ones: straight from the oven full of real butter, and made by love. Or maybe I am just still in culture shock phase. But I am terribly missing Scotland. I remember wearing spiky-heels boots and the road was so icy and I slipped and danced to balance my walk on every step. I remember feeling so cold my toes were literally frozen and I couldn’t move them. I remember insisting wearing open-toes jeweled sandals for a party and stepping out of the car into the snow and couldn’t care less because it’s a ceidlih and I wanted to look phenomenal, only to find out others wore Ugg boots and changed to party shoes at the concierge. I remember waking up one morning and find everywhere was white and the car was somewhere underneath the pile of snow. And having breakfast in a hotel looking out the golf course and the snow started falling, covered the whole ground with white, and people still insisted on dragging their golf clubs and kept on playing. And most of all, I remember I bitched about the weather a lot. Which now I miss the most, among other things I really didn’t care about when I was still there. Strange, eh?
Anyway, here are the things I miss about Scotland – not in particular order.