Posted on 12/21/2004 12:25:42 PM PST by hk409
Edited on 12/21/2004 12:54:14 PM PST by Admin Moderator. [history]
You can also just make the fresh dressing into patties and fry it. Cooks up nice and quick should you have forgotten to put it in the oven and just noticed it hanging out in the refrigerator when you go to get the cranberry salad about five minutes before you are to sit down to eat.
Not that such a thing would ever happen to me. :)
Oh, yes that could be a problem.
If we're starting to talk about food, need I remind our passengers that we have a fully stocked kitchen aboard, should someone wish to volunteer...
Hmmm chocolate soup....
Hm. The explicit naming of "bovine" here implies that some other variety will suffice. What would that be, pray tell? Sheep (got lots of those in the Highlands)?
Scots Wha Hae
Scots wha hae wae Wallace bled,
Scots wham Bruce hae aftimes led,
Welcome tae your gory bed,
Or tae victory
Nows the day and nows the hour,
See the front o battle lour,
See approach proud Edwards power,
Chains and slavery.
Wha will be a traitor knave,
Wha can fill a cowards grave
Wha sae base as be a slave,
let him turn and flee,
Wha for Scotlands king and law,
Freedoms sword will strongly draw,
Freeman stand and freeman fa,
let him follow me.
By oppressions woes and pains,
By your sons in servile chains,
We will drain our dearest veins,
But they shall be free.
Lay the proud usurpers low,
Tyrants fall in every foe,
Liberty's in every blow,
let us do or dee.
Very cool! I'm bookmarking that one under "historic reference".
It's modern Scots and you're bookmarking it under "historic reference"? *\;-)
The strangest thing we encountered in Scotland was while we were in Glasgow hunting for our B&B, and we were asked for directions by a Scottish girl (I guess we looked like locals). I don't know where she was from, I'm guessing from accent a distance north of Edinburgh, but we were barely able to understand each other at all. Had no trouble at all any other time there (we were around Scots a lot here).
Oh a Scotsman clad in kilt left the bar one evening fair
And one could tell by how he walked he'd drunk more than his share
He fumbled round til he could no longer keep his feet
Then he stumbled off unto the grass to sleep beside street.
Ring-ding diddle diddle aye-dee-oh, ring dye diddly-aye oh, Oh he stumbled off unto the grass to sleep beside the street.
Well about that time two young and lovely ladies happened by
And one said to the other, with a twinkle in her eye
"Oh see yon sleepy Scotsman, so strong and handsome built?"
"Well I wonder if it's true what they don't wear beneath their kilts?"
Ring-ding diddle diddle aye-dee-oh, ring dye diddly-aye oh, "Oh I wonder if it's true what they don't wear beneath their kilts."
Well they snuck up to that sleeping Scotsman, quiet as could be
And they lifted up his kilt a little bit so they might see
And there before their startled eyes, beneath that Scottish skirt,
Was nothing more than God had graced him with upon his birth.
Ring-ding diddle diddle aye-dee-oh, ring dye diddly-aye oh, Was nothing more than God had graced him with upon his birth.
Well they marvelled for a moment, then one said, "We must be gone."
Let's leave a present for our friend before we move along."
As a gift, they left a blue silk ribbon tied into a bow
Around the bonnie star the Scotsman's kilt did lift and show.
Ring-ding diddle diddle aye-dee-oh, ring dye diddly-aye oh, Around the bonnie star the Scotsman's kilt beneath did show.
Well the Scotsman woke to nature's call and stumbled towards a tree,
And as he lifted up his kilt, he gawks at what he sees,
And in a strangled voice, he says to what's before his eyes,
"I don't know where ye been, laddie, but I see ye took first prize!"
Ring-ding diddle diddle aye-dee-oh, ring dye diddly-aye oh, "I don't know where ye been, me lad, but I see ye took first prize!"
Our Scottish friend still dressed in kilt continued down the street,
He hadn't gone ten yards or more, when a girl he chanced to meet.
She said, "I've heard what's 'neath that kilt, tell me is it so." He said, "Just put your hand up miss, if you'd really like to know."
Ring-ding diddle diddle aye-dee-oh, ring dye diddly-aye oh, He said, "Just put your hand up miss, if you'd really like to know."
She put her hand right up his kilt and much to her surprise,
The Scotsman smiled and a very strange look came into his eyes.
She said, "Why sir that's gruesome," and then she heard him roar,
"If you put your hand up once again you'll find it grew some more."
Ring-ding diddle diddle aye-dee-oh, ring dye diddly-aye oh, "If you put your hand up once again you'll find it grew some more."
While you're learning the Gaelic, you need to be learnin' the Scots as well...I dinna ken if the lass you were talking with mostly had slangy speech, but there are some that still speak some dialects of Scots that are pretty far away from the English we speak. Not quite modern English...It's more than just a dialect, too...it's relationship to English is sort of sisters, both descended from Middle English...
But, now, after the talk o' food sent me to do some cooking, I give you anither bit o' song:
Hark when the night is falling
Hear! hear the pipes are calling,
Loudly and proudly calling,
Down thro' the glen.
There where the hills are sleeping,
Now feel the blood a-leaping,
High as the spirits
of the old Highland men.
Towering in gallant fame,
Scotland my mountain hame,
High may your proud
standards gloriously wave,
Land of my high endeavour,
Land of the shining river,
Land of my heart for ever,
Scotland the brave.
High in the misty Highlands,
Out by the purple islands,
Brave are the hearts that beat
Beneath Scottish skies.
Wild are the winds to meet you,
Staunch are the friends that greet you,
Kind as the love that shines
from fair maiden's eyes.
Towering in gallant fame,
Scotland my mountain hame,
High may your proud
standards gloriously wave,
Land of my high endeavour,
Land of the shining river,
Land of my heart for ever,
Scotland the brave.
.
Far off in sunlit places,
Sad are the Scottish faces,
Yearning to feel the Kiss
Of sweet Scottish rain.
Where tropic skies are beaming,
Love sets the heart a-dreaming,
Longing and dreaming
for the homeland again.
Towering in gallant fame,
Scotland my mountain hame,
High may your proud
standards gloriously wave,
Land of my high endeavour,
Land of the shining river,
Land of my heart for ever,
Scotland the brave.
I will admit that the versions I ha'e heard most leave out the last two stanzas...
Yeah. The adult version is a bit more rogueish. :)
Far off in sunlit places,
Sad are the Scottish faces,
Yearning to feel the Kiss
Of sweet Scottish rain.
Sigh. I have to make do with Seattle, until I can return again.
I'm told that the sad song "Chi Mi Na Morbheanna" ("I See the Great Mountains"), of a longing to return home, was written by an emigre during the Clearances. When his boat, full of displaced Scots, neared Nova Scotia, the mountains reminded them so much of home they were all reduced to tears.
I live at the foot of a mountain someone named Ben Lomond because it reminded him of home...
And yet, and yet, of the Celtic races, the Scots and the Irish have managed to spread their seed far and wide around the world...
My family's an example of that...I have more Scots names in my family lines than English...some lowland, some perhaps highland, and one probably from the Orkneys...
Here's another homesick one...
Far frae my hame I wander, but still my thoughts return
To my ain folk ower yonder, in the shieling by the burn.
I see the cosy ingle, and the mist abune the brae:
And joy and sadness mingle, as I list some auld-warld lay.
And it's oh! but I'm longing for my ain folk,
Tho' they be but lowly, puir and plain folk:
I am far beyond the sea, but my heart will ever be
At home in dear auld Scotland, wi' my ain folk.
O' their absent ane they're telling
The auld folk by the fire:
And I mark the swift tears welling
As the ruddy flame leaps high'r.
How the mither wad caress me were I but by her side:
Now she prays that Heav'n will bless me,
Tho' the stormy seas divide.
And it's oh! but I'm longing for my ain folk,
Tho' they be but lowly, puir and plain folk:
I am far beyond the sea, but my heart will ever be
At home in dear auld Scotland, wi' my ain folk.
Gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!! I missed the excursion. :-(
ZOT
:)
:)
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