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Robbie Burns Day

Jan 25, 2017

Robbie Burns Day is a Scottish holiday named after poet and writer, Robert Burns. Find out why we celebrate his work every January 25th!

Who Was He?

Robert Burns was born on January 25th, 1759, in Alloway, Scotland. At the age of 37, he died from rheumatic heart disease, which he had suffered from since he was a child. Robbie was the oldest of seven children born to a struggling farmer and his wife. After his mother introduced him to Scottish folk songs, legends and proverbs, he began writing touching poems and songs. Some of Robbie Burns' most famous songs include "Auld Lang Syne" (the song people sing at New Years), "Ye Banks and Breaes of Bonnie Doon" and "My Love's Like a Red, Red Rose." His first book of poems was published in 1788.

Robbie Burns DayRobbie Burns Day

Depressing Inspiration

Robbie Burns married Jean Armour the same year that his first book of poetry was published. They moved to Dumfries, where he rented a farm. Things didn't work out with the farm and he sunk into a deep depression. Throughout his times of depression (and this happened on several occasions), he continued to write poetry.

Celebrations

Because Robbie Burns' work is loved so much, his birthday is celebrated all over the world on January 25th. Highlights of any Robbie Burns festival often include the bagpipes, Scotsmen in kilts and the reading of Burns' poem, "To A Haggis." But no Robbie Burns' feast would be complete without the dish of choice - haggis.

Recipe for Haggis

Ingredients:

  • 1 sheep's bag and pluck (heart, liver, windpipe and lungs)
  • 1/4 lb. suet
  • 4 medium sized onions (blanched)
  • 1/2 lb. pinhead oatmeal
  • 2-4 level tablespoons salt
  • 1 level teaspoon black pepper
  • 1 level teaspoon powdered herbs

Instructions:

  1. Wash the bag in cold water, scrape and clean it well. Leave it overnight in cold water.
  2. Wash the pluck and put in a pan of boiling water and boil for one hour. Leave the windpipe hanging out. Place a small bowl under the windpipe to catch any drips.
  3. Place the cooked pluck in a bowl, cover with the fluid it was boiled in and leave overnight.
  4. The next day cut off the windpipe. Grate the liver and chop the heart, suet and onions.
  5. Toast the oatmeal, but make sure the color doesn't change. Add the oatmeal, salt, pepper, herbs and just over half a liter of liquid in which the pluck was boiled.
  6. Mix well. Fill the bag more than half full of the mixture, then sew it up and prick it.
  7. Place in boiling water, simmer for three hours, pricking occasionally to keep from bursting.
  8. The bag may be cut into several pieces to make smaller haggis; cook one and a half to two hours.

The national dish of Scotland is HaggisThe national dish of Scotland is Haggis

Enjoy your meal and don't forget to read a poem by Robbie Burns!

Have Your Say

Have you ever heard of Robbie Burns? Do you know any interesting facts about his life? Leave a comment and let us know!

 

15 Comments

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Grossest Food You've Ever Eaten?

  • Haggis.
  • Alligator.
  • Seafood - any kind.
  • Liver.

General In The Forums

AwesomeIvysaurGirl34
*evil laughing in the distance* You know You should join ThE InKlInGs
reply 11 minutes
AnnaOfExquizurd
(So, along with being a fanfiction of  The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time , this story is an attempt at a [character] x reader thing, with Duana representing the reader. It'll be Sheik x reader, but... well, you'll see how it works in the story. There'll be plenty of action and people-hitting to go 'round during it, and the buildup to the ship will be gradual. I promise that things that happen in parts 1-3 aren't necessarily terrible attempts at showing affection. I'm not sure how long it'll go, but it'll have at least ten parts of varying length. At the moment, I have four parts done, but I'll not be posting twice in a day. Feel free to voice any ideas or opinions through comments/PM! If you don't like it, I'd appreciate  constructive criticism , not a rant. Sit back, relax, and enjoy the story!) Part One A Man and a Lyre [Image courtesy of some random person on the Internet. Taken from Google Images.] Duana’s eyes snapped open. A forest. But her last memory was… of being cut into by a Thief's scimitar and falling… in the desert . Was this death? She grunted; attempted getting up. Failed. The nausea finally registered, and the trees spun about her vision. But she couldn’t go unconscious. The king’s forces could be anywhere. Duana would be easy pickings if she was unconscious and they happened to stumble upon her. A second attempt at rising succeeded, and she tightly gripped a tree, sagging against it as the spinning intensified, and she nearly vomited. Slowly, it faded, and she became alert again. She stood upright, looking around; scanning for signs of movement. Her sharp, red eyes at first saw nothing, then noticed a slight trembling of some undergrowth. Duana tensed, but knew she wouldn’t put up much of a fight--regardless of whether she actually fought or decided to run. Promptly, the swaying increased, and then the bushes parted… and a figure came into sight, heading straight towards Duana… ...with the red eye and tear on the navy blue tunic he wore. His eyes were also red, and his ears were pointed. The symbol was the symbol of Duana’s own race; a people trained in shadow and dedicated to protecting the royal family as well as their country, but who had failed miserably in it. Duana gasped in relief, releasing the tension. “I was so paranoid that you were someone working for Ganondorf….” The young man, a fellow Sheikah, tilted his head and frowned. “Ganondorf? He was exiled two decades ago.” “Wha…?” “Nabooru, Sage of Spirit, is now temporarily serving as the Gerudo queen until the next male is born. How do you not know this?” “I….” He peered at her. “What tribe are you from?” “Kakariko.” For a few seconds, he remained staring silently, his face unreadable. “What is your name? And who is your father?” “Duana. My father is Alechjo.” “Alechjo… he doesn’t have a daughter named Duana.” “What… what tribe are you from, then? What is your name?” He paused, drawing himself from thought. “Sheik, son of Geron, of Kakariko. You seem discombobulated. Are you alright?” Duana smiled. Her lips parted to say something, but another wave of nausea slammed into her. It felt like a punch, and she lurched, but the tree kept her upright. “I’m sure you’re not alright,” Sheik firmly said. As he dug through a pouch on his belt, Duana then noticed the lyre peeking around him, held in place on his back by a leather strap running across his chest in a diagonal line. Some of his blond hair escaped a ponytail a few inches long, hanging around his face as it was bent to see inside the pouch.
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darkdovelace01
My birthday is February 22nd :)
reply about 4 hours
_Tears_
_Tears_ posted in Debating:
i think people can be whatever they want its a free country
reply about 7 hours
just_shush
October 16th!!!   :D
reply about 7 hours