The Day I Became Her Highlander.

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After our trip to Skye yesterday, and after seeing so many men proudly wearing traditional dress, Ranih announced that I should have a kilt of my own for our honeymoon.

So today we travelled to the capital of Scotland, Edinburgh, not only to explore the sights and sounds of the city but because Ranih was determined to transform me into her very own Highlander.

After a long walk along the Royal Mile, she discovered an old establishment that specialised in traditional Scottish outfits. As I am not a native of Scotland, or even Earth for that matter, I do not have a family tartan. Fortunately, the shop had a universal pattern for visitors in my situation.

Once I was fully dressed in the complete outfit, including the sporran, the kilt, the shirt, the kilt hose and the Sgian dubh, which is a small single edged knife worn as part of Highland dress, I stepped out of the changing room. Ranih was practically swooning, visibly weak at the knees.

She immediately purchased the entire outfit and instructed me to place all my other clothes in a bag, informing me that I would not be leaving the shop in anything else until she decided otherwise.

I must admit, it was remarkably comfortable and I did look rather dashing. Everywhere we went in Edinburgh after that, we walked arm in arm, and Ranih was glowing with pride, delighted that she had secured herself a Scottish laird.

We are now sitting in our dressing gowns on the porch, looking out across the loch. Another wonderful day.


Image from Unsplash by Mark Cantle.

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