Attaching the electrodes of knowledge to the nipples of ignorance.

Fridays have settled into a nice pattern for me, run errands in the morning, arrive at Pattys around 11:30, have lunch, then work away on what I term “Tom projects”. I got an impressive amount of stuff done yesterday, so I’m pleased. Tracey met me and we headed out.

We went to the Highlander Pub in theory to celebrate Burns Night dinner, but unknowingly to me (I plead illiteracy), it was also our friend Lindsay’s birthday party – an even better reason to celebrate, if you ask me!

We were served samples of haggis (I didn’t know to ask if it was wild haggis or not).
This was followed by the aptly named “Scottish cure for scurvy, which consisted of rum with pineapple in it. I didn’t realize that pineapples were native to Scotland, but hey, you learn something new every day. (For you anal-retentive people, yes, I know that pineapples are *not* native to Scotland. You sarcasm detector appears to be faulty and should be replaced or upgraded.)

Two of Robbie Burns’ poems were read – “Scots, Wha Hae” and “A Red, Red Rose“. Then, a cake with the flag of Scotland and a Haggis were brought out and the “Address to a Haggis” was read.

As a child I was frequently told not to play with my food. I don’t think it ever really occurred to me to talk to my food or establish some kind of relationship with it.

For dinner, I had the three-cheese burger and french fries. Tracey had the
Forfar Bridie. The french fries were great, but the burger was terrible. I should have had the Forfar Bridie instead.

We have a fun time chatting with everyone and listening to the bag piper play occasionaly. Later in the evening, Dave Anthony entertained the crowd.

We took no photos because our first digital camera, the Kodak DX3500 died recently, at the ripe old age of 14,500(ish) photos. The above photo was lifted from the Highlander Pub’s website.