Outlander, Scotland, Travel & Books

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can you tell me what's the symbol on row four

and if you close one eye

First, a confession and an apology: I have no idea how to share this video other than with the link, so I apologize. This link is for the Happy Sad Confused Game Night that Josh Horowitz hosted with Sam Heughan, Caitriona Balfe, Richard Rankin, and Sophie Skelton. Super fun, light, several receipts as always (always touching, very knowing, but that's not the topic here), but there's also something I haven't seen brought out before... if you have please tell me and I apologize.

Josh Horowitz, at about 10:20, instructs them to say the given lines "to your friends and family here."

Seems innocuous.

Until you think about it and ask yourself, who is the family you're referring to, Josh?

They're all costars.

They're all friends.

None of them are blood related.

So who's family?

Only the two who married each other and began their own family over a decade ago. 💍

Thank you, Josh, we love you, as always, and we'll always have a special place in our hearts for you and all your content with our favorite couple. 👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=FWCKvXdtSnY&t=7s&pp=ugUHEgVlbi1VUw%3D%3D

THIS is the the video and the comment is about minute 5:00.

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Chapter 19: Boom

“Two Lagavulins neat, please.”

Leoch Tavern looked much as it did nearly four months before. The same low lighting cast a warm glow about the place, the natural wood bar softening the severity of the concrete floors and industrial ducts overhead. Just like the last time, music and conversation filled the air, present but far from deafening.

No, the space hadn’t changed. Still, Jamie’s experience this night couldn’t have been more different than that first visit. He sat inside, for one thing, due to the third straight day of persistent, misting rain. The last time, he’d hovered at the bar alone, nerves grinding, while tonight he strode easily to the counter to order.

And when he grabbed the highball glasses with a tapadh leibh to the bartender and returned to the worn Chesterfield sofa across the open room, he had someone waiting for him.

Claire grinned up at him as he handed her a glass and lowered himself beside her on the cracked leather seat. Her thigh was warm where it pressed against his, and he leaned just barely into it. Even with dried sweat on her face—specks of white salt dotting her forehead and temple like a wee cheetie—and those helmet-flattened curls exploding out of a bun on the crown of her head, she was beautiful.

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