Thursday, February 5, 2015

{p,h,f,r} Robert Burns Edition

I started this post last week, and then we were hit with the second bout of sore throats and stuffy noses for this year. So, a week later than planned, I present the Robert Burns Supper Post:


Sunday, January 25, was the birthday of Robert Burns and so we had our first annual Burn's Supper. In case you have never heard of it, a Burn's Supper is a Scottish tradition to celebrate the life and poetry of Scottish poet Robert Burns. 
Step one was decorations. The kids colored pictures and then set the table. 

The Flag of Scotland was a gift to Jim from his Uncle Tom years ago. It was given along with a sword (which you will see D holding below)

Next, the guests and the food is piped in (which means there is a bagpiper playing as they enter). The tradition is to serve Haggis at a Burn's supper, but we are not that brave hearted. 
What is Haggis? 
All I can gather is that most people really don't know, though there is rumor of sheep's stomachs. 
No thank you. 
It is also traditional to recite Robert Burns' poem "Address to a Haggis":

Fair and full is your honest, jolly 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.

We didn't do that either. But the kids, having an affinity for processions, took care of the other tradition and marched in with D at the lead. 
D was holding Jim's sword (you can imagine his creativity in coming up with reasons to bring out the sword) and since no one knows how to play the bagpipes, this recording played in the background:

The Kennedy Family Crest and Tartan.


And what is food, if not happy!
For us, a Scottish meal means mince and tatties (ground beef with gravy and mashed potatoes), peas (not mushy), and of course HP (the bottle of "brown sauce" in the foreground)
Trifle for dessert. This is my gluten-free version, we used the trifle bowl for the rest of it. 

And the food was declared to be good. 


"Can I just eat in peace? Why must my entire life be recorded?"

"I am being really patient here, but my trifle is calling me!"


A certain member of the family, who shall remain nameless, STILL does not eat peas. 

"Shhh....don't tell my mom!"

After dinner there was reciting and singing. This being our first year, we had only one poem memorized (at least in part) and that was only because Jim memorized it as a young boy and still recites it: 

My Heart's In The Highlands


Farewell to the Highlands, farewell to the North, 
The birth-place of Valour, the country of Worth; 
Wherever I wander, wherever I rove, 
The hills of the Highlands for ever I love. 

Chorus.-My heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here, 
My heart's in the Highlands, a-chasing the deer; 
Chasing the wild-deer, and following the roe, 
My heart's in the Highlands, wherever I go. 

Farewell to the mountains, high-cover'd with snow, 
Farewell to the straths and green vallies below; 
Farewell to the forests and wild-hanging woods, 
Farewell to the torrents and loud-pouring floods. 

My heart's in the Highlands, &c.

We also sang the famous Robert Burns song: 

Auld Lang Syne

Should auld acquaintance be forgot, 
And never brought to mind? 
Should auld acquaintance be forgot, 
And auld lang syne! 

Chorus.-For auld lang syne, my dear, 
For auld lang syne. 
We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet, 
For auld lang syne. 

And surely ye'll be your pint stowp! 
And surely I'll be mine! 
And we'll tak a cup o'kindness yet, 
For auld lang syne. 
For auld, &c. 

We twa hae run about the braes, 
And pou'd the gowans fine; 
But we've wander'd mony a weary fit, 
Sin' auld lang syne. 
For auld, &c. 

We twa hae paidl'd in the burn, 
Frae morning sun till dine; 
But seas between us braid hae roar'd 
Sin' auld lang syne. 
For auld, &c. 

And there's a hand, my trusty fere! 
And gie's a hand o' thine! 
And we'll tak a right gude-willie waught, 
For auld lang syne. 
For auld, &c.

And we read aloud from a few more selections: 

A Red, Red Rose
[Hear Red, Red Rose]
Type: Poem

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!

A Grace Before Dinner, Extempore


O thou who kindly dost provide 
For every creature's want! 
We bless Thee, God of Nature wide, 
For all Thy goodness lent: 
And if it please Thee, Heavenly Guide, 
May never worse be sent; 
But, whether granted, or denied, 
Lord, bless us with content. Amen!

A Grace After Dinner, Extempore


O thou, in whom we live and move- 
Who made the sea and shore; 
Thy goodness constantly we prove, 
And grateful would adore; 
And, if it please Thee, Power above! 
Still grant us, with such store, 
The friend we trust, the fair we love- 
And we desire no more. Amen!

We declared this First Annual Kennedy Family Burn's Supper a success and decide we should do more of these sorts of celebrations. 
How about an Adam Smith Celebration of Economics? 
(did you know he was Scottish?)