Every year, the 3rd weekend of May, you'll find members of the Glasscock house getting ready for the Bucking Horse Sale Parade. Scott and the Caledonian band are one of the favored entries each year, along with the Caledonian dancers who march and then dance the Highland Fling at various intersections along the parade route. Then afterwards, Scott and the band do a little pub crawl, ending up at the Montana Bar's back room for a private concert with their groupies.
I could never figure out why it would take Scott soooo long to get home after the parade. Usually the kids and I return home about noon, and then Scott would get home around 3. Finally 3 years ago, I found a sitter and went down to see what all the fuss was about. It kind of made me laugh. Here was a group of about 30 20-somethings (and I imagine some of them are getting on toward their 30s) who all wear a "special" t-shirt designed just for BHS weekend. They all have some beers and cheer on their favorite pipers and dancers who play the back room just for fun. There are guys snapping photos with their cell-phones, cheering, clapping, and some even dancing themselves, or trying to dance. You haven't seen anything until you've seen an uncoordinated white man, dressed in an over-sized kilt, and a wilted cowboy hat, trying to dance the Irish Jig and the Highland Fling in a dance off with the likes of Catherine Woods and Lindsay Faber, or Brittany Bartholomew. Truthfully, this year was a little sad for everyone without Catherine, but of course they all raised a toast in her memory.
Then...Here comes the Cavalry.... The Cavalry Band from Sheridan, Wyoming, complete with an imitation G.A. Custer, Native ladies (or a sad representation thereof), and bugles, cymbals, and drums. Usually 2 or 3 of the pipers end up standing on the actual bar, since there is no other room in the place and the two bands get together for a rousing medley. The drums are so loud, the place trembles, and then the pipes play and the whole house cheers. It's really quite the event.
This year also marked the first official year of my being a parade mommy. Benjamin decided he wanted to march with Dad, and since he couldn't be the rock star he wanted to be, he settled for an altered kilt (by his mother--I wouldn't recommend trying to hem and press a kilt unless you're desperate. TOO MANY PLEATS!) of Adam's and away he went. Here are a few pictures of the preparation, and the parade....