Burns Supper at the Burren: despite the unwanted presence of hell-cold V.20, a success. We saw nineweaving and teenybuffalo and choco_frosh and multiple people not on DW. My throat has not even faintly stopped hurting, but my voice held up for "John Barleycorn" and various choruses, including a plangent "Loch Lomond" by someone whose name I never get even though he reminds me each year of Odysseus in the Iliad, unprepossessing until he opens his mouth. spatch and I went out in drizzling sleet and it was worth it. Now we are home and I am under an electric blanket and I feel this is the right place to be. P.S. There was haggis.
- 1: You show me continents, I see islands, you count the centuries, I blink my eyes
- 2: We must never tell and we won't burn
- 3: All the listeners and seers from the first part and the writers and quoters in the last
- 4: We're merely lucky collections of particles and some stick together more than others
- 5: Are you in my bed, making fun of my book?
- 6: And, Amorite or Eremite, or General Averagee
- 7: Must be lonely, being angry, feeling overlooked
- 8: I'm not a saint, I'm not a soldier
- 9: I may be small, I may speak soft, but you can see the change in the water
- Style: Classic for Refried Tablet by and
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