Whit’s fur ye’ll no go by ye!
I don't know if I will be around or not. Depends on how much drugs I've taken. ;-)
But have fun and remember to make A LOT of toasts.
As you can see by Itzl's concerned look, this group is for us to check in at to let people know we are alive, doing OK, and not affected by such things as heat, blizzards, floods, wild fires, hurricanes, tornadoes, power outages, earthquakes, or other such things that could keep us off DKos. It's also so we can find other Kossacks nearby for in-person checks when other methods of communication fail - a buddy system. Members come here to check in. If you're not here, or anywhere else on DKos, and there are adverse conditions in your area (floods, heatwaves, hurricanes, earthquakes etc.), we and your buddy are going to check up on you. If you are going to be away from your computer for a day or a week, let us know here. We care!
IAN is a great group to join, and a good place to learn to write diaries. Drop one of us a PM to be added to the Itzl Alert Network anytime! We all share the publishing duties, and we welcome everyone who reads IAN to write diaries for the group! Every member is an editor, so anyone can take a turn when they have something to say, photos and music to share, a cause to promote or news!
Ok, we do have a diary schedule. But, when you are ready to write that diary, either post in thread or send FloridaSNMOM a Kosmail with the date. If you need someone to fill in, ditto. FloridaSNMOM is here on and off through the day usually from around 9:30 or 10 am eastern to around 11 pm eastern.
Monday:
BadKitties
Tuesday:
ejoanna
Wednesday:
Caedy
Thursday:
art ah zen
Friday:
FloridaSNMOM
Saturday:
Most Awesome Nana
Sunday:
loggersbrat
Robert (Rabbie) Burns is Scotland's national poet. A few years after his death, people began to gather on his birthday to honor the man and his work. In the more than two hundred years since his death, a ritual has developed that must be observed on this special night (although the Scots are not hidebound and you may substitute more modern music, dress and food - but the poetry stays the same!).
First, the haggis is carried in on a silver tray to the accompaniment of a piper playing a rousing song. It would be appropriate to use a Burn's poem set to music, such as Rattlin', Roarin' Willie or Scots Wha Hae.
One of the invited guests then recites the poem:
Address to a Haggis
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 worthy o' 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!
Then, horn for horn, they stretch an strive:
Deil tak the hindmost, on they drive,
Till a' their weel-swall'd kytes belyve
Are bent like drums;
The auld Guidman, maist like to rive,
'Bethankit' hums.
Is there that owre his French ragout,
Or olio that wad staw a sow,
Or fricassee wad mak her spew
Wi perfect scunner,
Looks down wi sneering, scornfu view
On sic a dinner?
Poor devil! see him owre his trash,
As feckless as a wither'd rash,
His spindle shank a guid whip-lash,
His nieve a nit;
Thro bloody flood or field to dash,
O how unfit!
But mark the Rustic, haggis-fed,
The trembling earth resounds his tread,
Clap in his walie nieve a blade,
He'll make it whissle;
An legs an arms, an heads will sned,
Like taps o thrissle.
Ye Pow'rs, wha mak mankind your care,
And dish them out their bill o fare,
Auld Scotland wants nae skinking ware
That jaups in luggies:
But, if ye wish her gratefu prayer,
Gie her a Haggis
Then comes the theatrical cutting of the haggis with the ceremonial knife, a
sgian dubh.
At which point your dinner looks a little like this (haggis, neeps, tatties and the all important single malt):
The rest of the night is spent reciting Burns' poetry and making toasts - first to the Queen (God Save Her Majesty), then to the haggis, to the ladies (traditionally there were no women at a Burns Supper, but we ended that ages ago), to the soldiers and marines, to the navy, to the cook, to your favorite dog, to the neeps (swedes, turnips or rutabagas), to the tatties (potatoes).....................you get the idea!
Bliadhna Mhath Ùr!
Life of Robert Burns
Poems set to music
Guide to Burns Night Suppers
Address to the Haggis in English (pdf)