What do you do when, despite the fact that you have lived in Scotland all your adult life and have produced children who are self-consciously Scottish, you cannot adequately meet their demand for a Burns Supper?!Our efforts went something like:
(a) A splendid Simon Howie haggis was duly purchased and cooked
(b) A few clicks found this site not only told us what to do, but enabled us to download the Slekirk Grace as well as the required "To A Haggis".
(c) A few more clicks downloaded some suitable bagpipe music onto the iPod, which when plugged into the stereo enabled us to clap the Haggis in, in some style!
And we were away!
My attempts to read the Burns made the poor old fella turn in his grave (and any living Scotsman within earshot descend into fits of giggles) so it was deemed more appropriate that the wife should bring her Celtic tones to bear on the work (albeit Ulster ones) . She aquitted herself admirably too!
The downside was that little Doris was absolutely petrified by the squirl of the pipes and she howled and howled and howled. It all blended together most melodiously I thought.
As for the Haggis - it was absolutely fantastic!
Address to a Haggis. (only part of!)
Fair fa' your honest, sonsie face,
Great chieftain o the puddin'-race!
Aboon them a' ye tak your place,
Painch, tripe, or thairm:
Weel are ye wordy of a grace
As lang's my arm.
The groaning trencher there ye fill,
Your hurdies like a distant hill,
Your pin wad help to mend a mill
In time o need,
While thro your pores the dews distil
Like amber bead.
His knife see rustic Labour dight,
An cut you up wi ready slight,
Trenching your gushing entrails bright,
Like onie ditch; And then,
O what a glorious sight,
Warm-reekin, rich!
2 comments:
Full marks for effort! I am most impressed! Embarrassingly, Burns night has passed unmarked in this household... although it sounds like your celebrations more than made up for the lack of anything on Tyneside!
We never bother with burns supper, though me being a veg probably doesn't help. There's a limit to how excited anyone can get about mashed turnip after all. I'm 1st generation Scot like your children and although my parents did the haggis thing we were allowed ketchup with it which was the only way I've ever liked haggis. I wouldn't worry about your accents. My dad read us lots of border ballads plus Sir Patrck Spens in a stonking public school accent and I still remember Earl Douglas and the battle of Otterburn despite the peculiar delivery.
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