Bob Prepares for Burns!

 

While we are all brushing up our Christmas tales and setting out trees and decorations and plum puddings, Bob is preparing for a pudding of a different ilk, and thinking ahead to the 25th of January which is the peak of the Burns celebration – in his other life, of course, Bob is in high demand as a Burns speaker and hosts innumerous suppers in the season!

 

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 wordy of 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 ye up wi’ ready slight,
Trenching your gushing entrails bright,
Like onie ditch;
And then, O what a glorious sight,
Warm-reekin, rich!