My wife, Carole and our little dotty dog, Dotty, did not take me seriously when I said, "Walkies!"
It's across the open fenland and I'm wearing something beneath the kilt. I'm no Braveheart. I'm English with Irish and Welsh ancestral line.
As far as I am aware, there is no Scottish blood, though I do think kilts look smart. Also, I'm very partial to haggis and mash with mushy peas, flavoured with thick gravy plus none-brewed vinegar and pepper. I think the mushy peas and none-brewed vinegar might be the English bubbling to the surface - ha, ha, ha.
However, to my delight, there are Irish and Welsh tartans too. All copyrighted from the authentic houses of Scotland and a fabulous House of Tartan Kiltmakers in Peterborough Cambridgeshire.
I'm wearing the Irish County Waterford Tartan, but I can also wear Price-Powell, Howell-Powell and Davidson. Probably others too.
I can't wait to wear the entire suit when we next go on a cruise to the Mediterainian sea. When there are formal evening dinner nights aboard the ship, many will get their tartan colours, complete with Prince Charlie waistcoat and jacket.
It all makes for a grand occasion. However, on a more casual basis, I wanted to take the dog for a walk over the fenland and wanted to play the squire of old.
Carole thinks I'm an oddball and perhaps she is right. I don't worry about that sort of thing, though. I enjoy being an oddball in England's fenland. Just now and then. lol
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