A princess came to visit our school. A real one. A kind one. A smiley one. And my son was honoured to play pipes to welcome her in, and then to say farewell.
Having been seven long months since he’d last worn his full dress kilt, there was such a lot of laughter as my son and I made sure everything still fitted! He knelt on the floor and the kilt just skiffed the ground - perfect. The ghillie brogues were polished to dazzle-scale eleven. The shirt was checked for fit. It’s the one with a ‘P’ written on the label - this is so we keep it separate, renew it regularly, and it is the only one worn for pipes events. The jacket and waistcoat were checked for stray fluff, and buttons tested for security. Long woollen socks came out a brand-new packet. The flashes were pressed underneath a cloth so they would be flat and not shine. It brings me a pedant’s frown to see a glengarry with crumpled ribbons, so I pressed, reapplied a little clear nail varnish to the ends to prevent fraying, and laid them inside the hat to keep them pristine.
Life is harsh for all this year. I have wept hot tears at times. The princess’s visit brought me great joy in my role of preparations, great pride for my son and a rainbow of emotion to many. I will treasure these little nuggets of order and solidity which remind me that good times happened and will again.
Believe. It will come.
The room above the garage
A Moodscope member.