This was the gift I gave to Jon for our first anniversary in 2003, a meerschaum pipe carved in the likeness of a Viking’s head. I was pregnant at the time (and just stop that little thought right now, no, Jon did not ever smoke this pipe around me when I was with child, although he did occasionally pour me a glass of gasoline) and while we were looking for interesting baby names we stumbled across a collection of Scottish names. Both he and I have Scottish ancestors, and for a while when we didn’t refer to Leta as Fawnzelle (her Utah name) we’d call her Scrymgour (her Scottish name). And when we said it we’d roar and scrunch our foreheads.
Like this: ScccccccRRYYYYYYYYYMGOURRRRRRRRRR!!!!!
And then Leta was born and looked nothing like a Scrymgour, but that name and the act of roaring it had become such a pastime that we had to inflict in on something else. Enter this pipe. He was much obliged.
