For those of you who are not familiar with Scotland, there is a poet named Robert Burns who happened to be born on 25 Jan several centuries ago.
I got sucked into attending the Burns Night Dinner last night, even tho I have absolutely no interest in either Haggis or whiskey.
I realized that I was familiar with Robby Burn’s poetry, as are most of you (Does Auld Lang Syne sound familiar?).
In any case, speeches, poetry and pipes were the order of the evening.
There were kilts, trews of appropriate plaid, several skirts plus shawls of various family or regimental origin.
Today I had a lovely quite day.
Alternating between spinning some wonderful Blue Faced Leicester
finishing up socks, a row or two on the Viking Sweater and listening to Audio Books.