Kendonald Burns Supper
Despite the horrendous weather of late, the Kendonald Burns Supper is going ahead as planned. I can’t wait. It’s always such a good time. People come from our village and neighbouring villages to sit down to a meal of soup, haggis, tatties and neeps, washed down by whisky and followed by trifle. Once the meal and speeches are over, the dancing begins and we have a fab old-fashioned ceilidh.
Excuse me while I get changed (disappears behind the bedroom door). About fifteen minutes later…
So how do I look? Pirouetting to show off black tights/leggings, ankle boots, long white blouse and a Robertson tartan sash pinned to her right shoulder with a large silver brooch showing off a large cherry amber stone in the middle.
Bundle up, it’s cold out there.
When we enter the village hall, our senses are greeted with the aromas of cooking haggis, turnips and potatoes coming from the kitchen and the sight of the tables laid with tartan table clothes. Judging by the number of folks here already, it’s going to be an excellent turnout.
The skirl of the pipes halts the numerous conversations and folks begin to clap in time to the beat of the music.
Here comes the piper followed by the chef carrying the haggis high. Oooh, the anticipation. When they reach the top table, they’re each given a dram of whisky.
My Dad is giving the address to the haggis this year. Doesn’t he look smart in his kilt and Prince Charlie Jacket? And here comes the best part. “…His knife see rustic Labour dight,
An’ cut you up wi’ ready sleight,…”
Now that the haggis is sliced open, Dad pours a wee dram in and then everything goes back to the kitchen, where the ladies dish up liberal portions of tatties and neeps to go with haggis (trust me there’s enough good to feed an army). I have to leave you so find a spot to sit. I’m off to help serve the meal.
After the meal is finished, there’s the toast to the Immortal Memory, followed by the toast to the lassies and the reply to the laddies. Shh… (yawn) this is the slowest part of the entire night, unless we get a really engaging speaker who keeps us entertained.
The ceilidh band starts warming up, the tables are pushed to the sides of the hall and Gay Gordons here we come! Strip the Willow, Virginia Reel are also danced.
So there you have it, the condensed version of Robbie Burns night at the Kendonald Village Hall.
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