The Annual Burns Supper this time next week.

I reckon we all spend most of our lives wishing them away instead of living in the moment. I do try, I really do, to live fully in the present rather than wanting what I can't have - you know the usual: perfect family; money; different lifestyles; home in apple pie order; the list could go on. That doesn't mean that I don't plan ahead - I have to.
However tonight is one of those 'I wish it was next week' moments, because this time next week (and it's now 20:00), I'll be sitting down in the West Cork Hotel enjoying a Burns Supper. This is the night when


Logan Ancient Plaid

• you can nearly be guaranteed that there will be more men wearing kilts than trousers;
• when your ears have to tune into English being spoken in a very different way & as the evening progresses, the accents may become more indecipherable;
• when the Irish and other nationalities will be in the minority in Ireland; 
• the 'whiskey' will be definitely 'whisky';
• and those who don't like turnips will enjoy their 'neeps'.

It's an adventure and I'm looking forward to it.
By the way, I will do my very best to report on the number of men wearing the kilt and the variety of tartans - just for the craic. It's long been a wish of mine to have my own piece of tartan (my paternal grandmother was Logan

& the family hailed from Stornoway - home of the most famous Scottish Black Pudding) but that's not going to happen this year so I'll just go along and sip a dram & toast to Rabbie Burns; a second sip in honour of my Scottish forebears; and a third to my sister, brother-in-law and nephew living in Scotland; the fifth will be to toast the friends including those we've made through the Celtic Cook Off; and that will definitely be the end of that dram. (To get in training, I think I'll have a drop of my Pig's Nose!).
If you're going, let me know.
Avril