Selkirk Grace
Some hae meat and canna eat,
And some wad eat that want it;
But we hae meat, and we can eat,
Sae let the Lord be thankit.
Burns Night is the celebration of the noted Scottish poet, Robert Burns. This year was the 250th anniversary of Rabbie's birth. Thanks to my pal Derek, I was invited to the Burns Night Dinner put on by my University's Business School, open to all post-graduates. It felt like Prom.
The Mylne's Courters in attendance went out for pre-drinks at a swank bar called 56 North. It had great two-for-one deals on drinks. The ladies enjoyed our Flirtinis and then we moved on to pitchers of Death by Something-or-other Pussy, after we saw the boys with them. They were both fruity, champagne-based cocktails.
What a long straw you have - the better to drink you with my dear!
Piping in the haggis
here's a stanza of it:
His knife see rustic Labour dicht,
An' cut you up wi' ready slicht,
Trenching your gushing entrails bricht,
Like ony ditch;
And then, O what a glorious sicht,
Warm-reekin, rich!
Now doesn't that make you hungry for some minced lamb heart, liver, and lungs?! (I told you that you didn't want to know). Then there was an official toast to the haggis, with whisky of course, followed by a toast to the lassies, and a reply from the lassies (more speeches and recitations of Burns' poetry - which is all written in Scots), followed by desert, and then dancing!
MC enjoying the Burns Supper