Showing posts with label Haggis. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Haggis. Show all posts

Wednesday 25 January 2023

Burns and Haggis


It may have escaped your notice that today we celebrate the 'Bard's' birthday.  Rabbie Burns will not join us however, having passed away in 1796.  Scots, and quite a few others, will be attempting to cook Haggis, Neeps and Tatties for lunch, reading the 'Address to a haggis,' and if they are not Scots they will be making a fool of themselves with the accent. 
 

Sadly the haggis available in my Tesco's is not great.  I could have got 'my butcher' up in Forres to send one down, but time beat me here.  I did consider the 'mince pies' in the freezer however, by the time I considered them it was too late to defrost them. 
I had garlic bread and vegetable soup instead.
There was no 'Address' offered.
A proper Haggis from a butcher can be expensive.  It can be however, marvellous, not like the rather dry ones I find in supermarkets.  I certainly would not buy the 'Vegan' or is it 'Vegetarian' one that sometimes becomes available, as clearly there is no point.  


As my late sister's birthday fell on Jan 25th along with Rabbie, I cannot forget the date.  She however, showed no poetic talent, unless sending postcards from places she visited with 'I was here today,' on the back counts.  It counted a wee bit when she sent a card thus commented upon featuring the Andromeda Galaxy!  I was in two minds if she had actually visited.  It turns out the family had been to a science type exhibition in Edinburgh.  Not many stars seen from there at this time of year mind.
No Haggis but however, I have the whisky, given to me by one of my secret admirers.  Burns referred to whisky as 'John Barleycorn,' and his poem offers his delight in the substance.  It may be Burns, as he often did, made use of an old poem and livened it up.  However, he, working on a farm when not seeking smugglers for the exciseman, and usually helping them rather than catching them, he knew all about the difficulties of raising Barley as a crop.  He would know about the hardships of farm life and the struggle to make it pay at that time also. 
And while we make the most of the Orkney Barley we keep an eye out for those Vikings seeking to steal back their product.  We however, have ways of dealing with them...


Saturday 25 January 2014

Media, Man U, Haggis and Aussies





For over  a week now I have ignored the news for the most part.  Instead of rummaging through the papers each morning I listen to the headlines and have occasionally pursued one or two interesting items only.  This means I am no longer fearful of a million south east Europeans, possibly Muslim, stampeding into the UK stealing our jobs and living off the dole.  Nor do I worry that the apple I eat may give me cancer nor do I rejoice that the coffee I drink seven times a day will cure that illness.  The screaming headlines have not made it difficult to sleep at night through such fear simply by my choice to ignore them, life outside I notice mournfully  however has continued despite my absence.  
I have been tempted occasionally to turn on the radio desperate for a fix of the news but have manfully directed my attention elsewhere and survived.  The world did neither miss me nor change in any way.  I am oblivious to what she from the telly is doing with whom, not upset about the tree cut down by a neighbour, care little for the lies poured forth from Westminster and worry not about a court case featuring the high and mighty who have fallen on hard times.  I remain in the real world quite happily, the week has been quite good, and placing life's priorities before the screaming of the world has made me gentler, more considerate and relaxed enough to walk the streets without my chainsaw in hand.  I merely carry the small axe instead.


One thing that never changes about English newspapermen is their desperate desire to destroy someone.  The present target is David Moyes the incoming manager of Manchester United, a football team you may have heard off.  The previous incumbent, one Sir Alex Ferguson, managed to keep the job for 25 years, something unheard of today.  During his time he won the English title about a dozen time, the English Cup, the UEFA Cup and the Champions League Cup (the top trophy) and has now retired to travel the world and annoy the wife.  Interestingly when he began the job the media attacked him relentlessly as his first three years were far from a success. However once he began to win the media changed their tune and became scared to upset him, losing contact with Manchester United could lose them their job after all!  The attack on Moyes is less from a football perspective and merely the desire to knock someone down when he is down, also to use the Manchester United name to sell their papers and programmes. 
There is no doubt Moyes has a hard job on his hand.  many of the players at the club are past their best, one or two others are not 'top four' players and some players he wanted at the beginning of the season failed to appear.  On top of this Wayne Rooney and Van Persie are both missing through injury. These two men could win games by themselves, missing both is a huge loss for any club.  
In my mind Man U would possibly finish around seventh or eighth this season although is Rooney and Van Persie return in time they may yet finish in the top four, I suspect that is a real possibility myself. The manager has a tremendously difficult job ahead of him but I believe he will succeed and succeed well.  The naysayers will fill pages of uneducated pap to make money but the football fan knows this club is not dead and has too much going for it to fail now.



The wise amongst you will realise that this is Burns night, the night the great Rabbie is celebrated with Haggis, mash potatoes and mashed turnips (neeps to you!), washed down with a wee dram of whisky. Large gatherings are taking place tonight, the Haggis is carried in behind a piper, the 'address' is made and tales told, poems read and whisky imbibed.
I am poor and merely had a cheese sandwich myself.

     A Red, Red Rose

O my Luve's like a red, red rose, 
That's newly sprung in June: 
O my Luve's like the melodie, 
That's sweetly play'd in tune. 

As fair art thou, my bonie lass, 
So deep in luve am I; 
And I will luve thee still, my dear, 
Till a' the seas gang dry. 

Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear, 
And the rocks melt wi' the sun; 
And I will luve thee still, my dear, 
While the sands o' life shall run. 

And fare-thee-weel, my only Luve! 
And fare-thee-weel, a while! 
And I will come again, my Luve, 
Tho' 'twere ten thousand mile!

Rabbie Burns 1794


Tomorrow, or today if you are in Australia, is 'Australia Day!'  This is the day Aussies celebrate being, er Aussies.  Much celebration is happening as I write, lager is being swallowed (they do not appear to drink proper beer), 'Barbies' everywhere are burning lamb, chicken and sausage, all run by men naturally and the sun shines, the sky remains blue and people are eaten by great white sharks in Botany Bay. Today we celebrate their tomorrow unless you are in the US where yesterday has yet to finish while the Aussie tomorrow, which is their today, is almost over, and we share their delight in being Australian, a very good thing to be.
Even if they are all descended from English convicts.....  


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Friday 25 January 2013

January 25th



The Bard's birthday.  The greatest poet produced in this land, a great man, a womaniser, a customs official, a farmer's boy and a drunk!  Yet many in then Church of Scotland consider him a saint!  Robert Burns was a thinking man as well as a natural poet.  He indicated his feelings in poetry, not always to others liking, and once he had tasted the Edinburgh high life as well as their high ladies he returned to where he was more at home.  Robert Burns




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