Burns Night

I had some idea that I'd blend some whisky and a satire for my blip, but it just didn't seem to work, perhaps the result of brain weariness blended with the said whisky.

So here's the contrail Satire, the whisky has has gone.

I remember about 20 years ago being in Scotland for Burns night with my brother in law, we were doing an ice climbing course in the Cairngorn. A group of us headed for a wee drink in the nearby pub, it was also the day of the Calcutta cup, - we weren't about to advertise our Englishness. The drinking of pints of "scotch" with names that sounded like imperial measures of currency lubribated the conversation. My last clear recollection was standing with everyone else in the pub at about 1:30 in the morning (we English closed our pubs then about 10:30pm) and sang with gusto and nationilistic pride "Flower of Scotland". Well it would have been rude not too.

The Laphroiag is reaching my brain now, weariness is disipating, I could probably write and ramble for hours now - best sign off quick before I embarass myself.

Burns Night Greetings Blip Friends.