When I was a child, both my grandfathers filled me with wondrous stories of my Scottish ancestors. While at bedtime mum was spinning faerytales and 𝘉𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘎𝘰𝘢𝘵𝘴 𝘎𝘳𝘶𝘧𝘧, my grandfathers used my mind as a repository for history that should not be lost. Little did I comprehend they were cultivating my growing imagination, feeding my fascination with the past, and hoping to create the next historian in the family.
