TRIP TO SCOTLAND REMINDS ME WHY I SHOULD EAT MY BROCCOLI

I have just returned from taking grandson Nicholas Wansley to Scotland with his grandma to visit the land of her ancestors. I would have taken him to visit my ancestors except I don’t have any idea where they are.

The first thing we heard upon our arrival in Scotland was that Bigfoot had been discovered roaming the woods of North Georgia. My initial reaction was that somebody had spotted Zell Miller out for a walk. He is the biggest thing I know in the mountains. But it couldn’t have been my favorite Mountain Man because anybody with a lick of sense would know not to mess with him. Even Bigfoot would give Zell a wide berth. The creature may be a misanthrope, but he isn’t dumb.

I saw on television that Russia had invaded Georgia. I knew right off that they weren’t talking about the great state of Georgia, because had the Russians set foot on our sovereign soil, they would have been planted headfirst in the Ogeechee River by nightfall. Not only do we have the best barbecue in the world as well as Sweet Vidalia onions, we have a fighting machine known as Georgia’s 48th Brigade Combat Team. I was with these folks in Iraq, and you had just as soon mess with Zell Miller as mess with them. We will abide Yankees in our state as long as they promise not to talk loud and not to make fun of us, but we aren’t keen on foreigners barging in uninvited and trying to bully us. Southern hospitality extends only so far.

By the way, it was downright embarrassing to see our president hemming and hawing over Russia’s invasion of Georgia and then to watch the guy who runs France take over and get things moving toward a ceasefire. When the French make the U.S. look weak and indecisive, it is way past time to change presidents. It was like Sonny Perdue getting shown up by the governor of Alabama. Humiliating.

Not that they are going to vote in our upcoming election, but our friends in Scotland say they know nothing about John McCain, except that he was a prisoner of war. They know a great deal about Barack Obama because that is all the media talk about over there. I told them it was the same over here because the media are heavily populated with liberal weenies who want Obama to win.

Upon our return, everybody wanted to know if we had seen Nessie, the Loch Ness monster. Not this trip. I am told she was in seclusion after reading of the indignities suffered by Bigfoot, her longtime friend and secret lover. She was reportedly very upset at claims that Bigfoot may have the DNA of a possum. Nessie said if that were true, Bigfoot would have already been hit by a car while trying to cross U.S. 341 around Baxley.

It was very cold in Scotland, and while we were there the country experienced some of the worst flooding in decades. I told our hosts we would be happy to send them 15 degrees of heat if they would send us two weeks of water. They are thinking it over.

If you have never been to Scotland, I urge you to go. The country is unspeakably beautiful — even in the rain — and the people are wonderful. My dear mother-in-law was born in Edinburgh and is of the Cameron clan, a fact of great pride to the Woman Who Shares My Name. While touring the Edinburgh Castle, we were informed that one of the original Camerons, Sir Ewen of Lochiel, once got cornered in battle and escaped by ripping out his opponent’s throat. That is a very good thing to know. The next time I am told to eat my broccoli, I will seriously consider doing so. My distaste for the stuff is not worth having my throat ripped out. It seems that the Cameron clan can get very cranky when cornered in battle or when people refuse to eat their broccoli. Of course, I didn’t have to go all the way to Scotland to find that out.

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