Being of Scottish heritage means one thing in my family. We’re Scots. Spirit of the West’s lyrics “There’s none more Scots than the Scots abroad” ring strong and true for those of us who are scions of the Auld Sod. But make no mistake, we’re Scots….not Scotsmen (I’m a lass, don ye ken?), not Scotch (though we may tipple a wee bit), and most certainly not Scotchmen. Lass, remember?
That being said, plaid is kind of like Magnetic North or Brad Pitt. We’re attracted to it. It whispers to us in the night “Come hither into yon heather and wrap yourself in tartan”. It doesn’t really matter if it’s OUR plaid or not. It’s worn to marry and to bury, in love and in loss. It’s about clan and kin and the ties that bind.
Some dear soul went to a ton of trouble to make this glorious little bit of plaid. Working with dichroic glass is something I hope to do in the near future, but I’m positive that it will be a long while before I’m anywhere near proficient enough to produce something like this. The next pic is taken with a flash just to show you the shimmer this glass produces.
It really is quite lovely, and quite large. The whole piece measures 7.5 cm x 6 cm and has a sparkly cz at the top for just a bit more glitter and glam. My heart will not break if it doesn’t sell….just don’t tell my hubby.
I’m off now to explain to the Swedish side of the family what the “big deal about being a Scot is anyway”. Again. It never gets old and it’s ALWAYS fun. Usually involves intricate descriptions of various recipes for haggis and the waving of a Scotch bottle. Sláinte!