One might think I am planning a road trip through Scotland, but these names are part of tonight's project. They are the remnants of Russel's whiskey collection, which must be properly laid to rest before we all vacate early Saturday. Ten mostly-consumed bottles sit on the table begging to regale us with visions of foggy crags, soggy bogs and sagging Haggis. Well, forget the latter.
Among the collection are a couple of odd ducks; the Irish Tullamore Dew and some seven-year-old rum direct from Cuba. Maybe I'll have a taste and raise a glass to the gorgeous, green-eyed Cuban blonde, who added spice to my time at the University of Hawaii where my "moveable feast" began.
Back to Spain soon, for the next chapter.
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