People in Scotland eat blood. And sheep stomachs.

Anna has said and done some pretty priceless things on this trip. Unfortunately, it's hard to know when a quote or situation will translate well onto this blog. But here's one instance that I want to share with all.

For a little background, you should know that Anna, after finally tasting the bliss that is a freshly baked scone, has now become totally obsessed with them. She wants scones all the time, 24/7, talks about them unceasingly, and comments on every type and style of scone we find. Well, last weekend we journeyed to Ireland, and on a tour of the countryside stopped for tea and scones at a little shop.

These were Grade A scones, made even better by the rich clotted cream that was dollopped in plentiful amount on our plates. We praised and complemented them in every way possible; in fact, everything about the experience was perfect, except that someone had baked a few raisins into the scones, which we picked out before eating. During this process Anna raised her head, sighed soberly, looked at me like she was about to say something truly serious and/or important, and emitted this gem:

"I like my scones like I like my men. Without raisins."

The layers of this quote are manifold and very deep. I'll leave its interpretation up to you.