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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.