Burns Night

Burns Night, so where better to be than north of the border. Here for the rest of the week. So in anticipation of tonight’s feast of the haggis I’ll quote the first verse of Robbie Burns’s traditional address :

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 photo is of a very windy Caerketton, the easternmost of the Pentland Hills, the playground of Edinburgh.

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