Address to the Haggis
I think Alistair recited the Robbie Burns poem in the original Scottish (well it sounded foreign) but here is the first verse translated into English.
Good luck to you and your honest, plump face,
Great chieftain of the sausage race!
Above them all you take your place,
Stomach, tripe, or intestines:
Well are you worthy of a grace
As long as my arm.
With a wee dram of the Infamous Grouse we toasted the Haggis, which was then cut along its length (called trenching the gushing entrails) with a serious looking dagger. Fortunately no blood was shed.
Tucking into Haggis, neeps & tatties (Haggis wi' bashit neeps an' champit tatties) followed by a Cranachan dessert then cheese and biscuits, was a real Burns Night feast.
Let the reels begin
Rodger, Linda, Gordon and Joan took to the floor to demonstrate their prowess at Scottish dancing. Ooh, Donald where’s your troosers. I and many others didn’t have the nerve to emulate them – perhaps a bit more Famous Grouse would have got me on my feet.
Thanks of course to Rodger, Master of Ceremonies, for organising this splendid event and to our resident piper Alistair. And many thanks to the ladies – Anne, Brenda, Diana and Jean - who prepared the fabulous feast, and Gordon who help serve and clear up.
AULD LANG SYNE
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And auld lang syne!
