We went back to Glasgow last weekend to help Dad and Anne decorate their tree and see some friends. The younger-than-us people sitting across from us on the train thought we were Mormon, because of Sarge’s beard. We figured they meant Amish, but further figured they were too drunk to compare and contrast. We arrived in Glasgow laughing and cold, with some doughnuts to test on my people. The second batch looked more like doughnuts. So much more that Sarge…
