Last summer, my husband surprised me with a visit to The Fergus Scottish Festival. I didn’t know where we were heading until we pulled into a dusty field, which doubled as a parking lot, that the most Scottish experience this side of the Atlantic was our destination. If I had known, I would have cleared my schedule for the entire weekend and made sure we were there to enjoy every caber toss, every raised glass of whiskey, and every kilted wonder that passed through the admission gates. As …
