Uncle Jock and me is proper pished. As usual on the walk back he holds court, telling a thousand stories. And as usual we pass beneath Newark Castle.
“Laddie,” he says, putting an arm around me. “You know the odds between an American and a Scot?”
“Accents?”
“Aye, true. But you see there?” He points up at the tall windows. “An American sees that castle, he says to himself Oi, I’d like to live there.”
“Aye.”
“But a Scot,” and now he smiles broadly, showing the cracked teeth. “A Scot looks for a stone to chuck through the goddamned glass.”
Yup. There’s no glass left in any of my windows
Made me laugh, as a Scot I can appreciate Jock’s parable. Also, ‘pished’, – if there’s one thing we’re world beaters at, it’s our use of swear words!
I wanted to say something about people in glass houses, but I identify with the stone throwers!
Dear Josh,
I’d say from Iain’s comment you captured the characters. You made me laugh out loud on top of it. And not just a wee bit. ;)
Shalom,
Rochelle
Oi, I’d like to live there…for sure…I guess spoken like a true American. Fabulous writing!
Are Scots really so cantankerous? I refuse to believe it :) Fun story, Josh.
I lhave Scottish relatives, and had never really thought of this opinion, which i suspect is right on the money. Brilliant stuff
This one made me smile. Fun and quite realistic :)
Ha. A fun story with a strong sense of character.
Me fadder was half-Scot, and I’d say ’tis a true story repeated many times. Well done.
McQuage is my maiden name, Scot is in my blood! Loved this tale :)
Aye, I see how it would be that way. … (never wanted to live in a castle. Does it make me a Scot?) ;)
Loved it, from the Donaldson side of my heritage.
Well I smiled and smiled, thank you