
Many moons ago, I attended a raucous Burns Night Supper — an annual celebration of the life and work of Scotland's national poet, Robert Burns, that takes place on the anniversary of his birth, January 25, 1759. My recollections of that evening in a basement café in Edinburgh are hazy, even scarce, but I do remember a lot of delicious, steaming plates of hearty food, great friends, a surplus of good spirits (of both the emotional and liquor variety), funny speeches, and a dizzying whirl of dancing.
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