One Year, 70 Scotches, and My Father-in-Law

Standing on a verdant sea cliff in the Scottish Highlands, the briny breeze in our hair, warmed by a blanket of local single malt whisky—that’s where we were supposed to be. It was March 2020 and, like all travel, our trip to the UK was canceled. My husband and I found ourselves instead sheltering in place with a toddler, venturing no further than the refrigerator to crack another stress beer. If you’ve never been in quarantine with a toddler, it’s best compared to the movie Snakes on a Plane: They’re everywhere, they bite, and there’s no escape. So when two small bottles of amber liquid appeared on our porch with a note, “Zoom scotch tasting,” we welcomed the distraction. 

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-Lance