Robert Burns' Cottage

Yesterday hubby and I visited the cottage where Robert Burns (1759-1796), Scotland's national poet, was born.  It is now part of the Robert Burns Birthplace Museum run by the National Trust for Scotland in Alloway in Ayrshire.  It is a wonderful place to visit if you are in the area.  

My favourite part of the visit was seeing the actual cottage where Burns was born.  With its thatched roof, it has been restored to how it might have looked in the 18th century.  I loved the atmosphere of the place.

There's even a chair with a quote from Burns' poem The Cotter's Saturday Night "The Mother wi her needle and her shears, gars auld claes look amaist as weel's the new".  I don't think it needs translating and is a wonderful testament to stitchers.

I found this little baby gown quite touching - there's one for all Burns' siblings.

There are some hornbooks on the kitchen table - it is from these that children learned their alphabet and other essentials.  Once these printed alphabets were protected by a layer of animal horn so thin that was see-through!

The cottage also has a lovely little kitchen garden which is well looked after.

The actual museum is a little fit further away from the cottage and has a cafe and gift shop.  There are some wonderful exhibits of Burns' work here.

An interesting and worthwhile day out!

Love, Liz

Vintage Robert Burns

It has been a long time since I've been rummaging in charity shops but I found this little dish recently and it just had to come home with me.  It has a cute little picture of Scottish poet Robert Burns (1759-1796) on it.  It's by Crown Devon, Fieldings, Stoke on Trent, England.  Isn't it gorgeous!

It also has a quote from one of Burns' more famous poems To A Mouse - "The best laid schemes of mice and men gang aft agley" (go wrong).  So true!

I've put the little dish together with a little cross stitch pillow I stitched last year and a very old book of Burns' poems which belonged to my Granny.  (Find out more about the book here.)The colours just all go together beautifully.

This little dish was certainly worth waiting for!  

Don't forget that Shortbread & Ginger is on Instagram as Scottish Stitcher.

Love, Liz

Alloway Auld Kirk

Visited the Auld Kirk in Alloway yesterday - an amazing place.  The parents of the Scottish poet Robert Burns - William Burns and Agnes Brown - are buried here.

Alloway Kirk takes centre stage in Burns' famous poem Tam O'Shanter published in 1791 as the meeting place of the devil "Auld Nick" and various ghosts -

Warlocks and witches in a dance; 

Nae cotillion brent-new frae France, 

But hornpipes, jigs strathspeys, and reels, 

Put life and mettle in their heels. 

A winnock-bunker in the east, 

There sat auld Nick, in shape o' beast; 

A towzie tyke, black, grim, and large, 

To gie them music was his charge: 

He scre'd the pipes and gart them skirl, 

Till roof and rafters a' did dirl.-- 

Coffins stood round, like open presses, 

That shaw'd the dead in their last dresses; 

The church dates back to the sixteenth century with some parts from even earlier.  The building fell into disuse when the congregation moved to a new church.

There are some very decorative grave stones in the kirkyard.

It was a very interesting place to visit.  Joining with InSPIREd Sunday - come along and see some more interesting churches.
Love, Liz

Reply to an Invitation - Burns Style

Its the Bard's birthday - Robert Burns was born on this day in 1759.  Many Scots, all over the world, traditionally celebrate tonight by attending a Burns Supper.  As usual they will eat haggis, drink whisky and listen to poetry written by Burns.

Although I'm a Scot, living in Scotland, I usually avoid these because I actually don't like either haggis or whisky!  (If this ends up being my last blog post, then you'll know that these remarks have been taken as the spouting of treason and I'm incarcerated in Edinburgh Castle dungeon - if it has one!)

Anyway, I much prefer Burns' lesser known poems, especially the ones with a bit of humour.  So I thought I'd share this one with you:-

Reply to an Invitation

Sir.

Yours this moment I unseal,
And faith!  I'm gay and hearty,
To tell the truth and shame the Deil,                                           devil
I am as fou as Bartie.                                                                     drunk

But Foorsday, Sir, my promise leal,                                               Thursday; true

Expect me o' your partie,
If on a beastie I can speel                                                             climb
Or hurl in a cartie.                                                                           trundle
                  Yours, - Robert Burns

What a fabulous reply!

I've already blogged about Burns and the Greenock connection - you can read about it here.

Enjoy what's left of your Friday.

Love, Liz

Book of Burns Poems

Its Burns' Night tonight and I wanted to show you this old book which was my Granny's and as you can see, was very well used.

I think that along with the Bible, many  household in Scotland would also have a copy of Burns' poems.

Here's a epitaph Burns wrote about a Mauchline (East Ayrshire) man - sounds like a bit of a character!

Lament him, Mauchline husbands a',

He aften did assist ye;

For had ye staid whole weeks awa',

Your wives they ne'er had missed ye.

Ye Mauchline bairns, as on ye pass

To school in bands thegither,

O, tread ye lightly on his grass,

Perhaps he was your father.

There's a good site where you can find out more about Robert Burns, his life and poetry at - Robert Burns Country.

I've written about Burns, Highland Mary and the Greenock connection here.

I'm not going to any Burns Suppers this year (sob, sob), but if you are - then have a great time!

Love, Liz

Tonight is Burns Night

Its Burns Night tonight so I'm going all out Scottish today!



Here's another wee Burns poem - think you'll like this one, shows that Burns had a sense of humour.

The discrete hint

Lass, when your mither is frae hame,

May I but be sae bauld

As come to your bower window,

And creep in frae the cauld?

As come to your bower window,

And when it's cold and wat,

Warm me in thy fair bosom, -

Sweet lass, may I do that?

Young man gin ye should ba sae kind,

When our gudewife's frae hame

As come to my bower window,

Whare I am laid my lane,

To warm thee in my bosom, -

Tak' tent, I'll tell thee what,

The way to me lies through the kirk, -

Young man, do ye hear that?

That told him!

Wherever in the world you are, if you are off to a Burns Supper tonight - have a great time!

Love, Liz

Inspired!

Inspired by yesterday's Burns theme,  Here are two new collages.



Images from Graphics Fairy



Love, Liz

Love and Loss

It is Burns Night on Tuesday, but since I'm going to a wee soiree tonight in honour of our national poet, I thought I'd  post this heartbreaking poem.

Highland Mary (Mary Campbell) was the love of Robert Burns life.  They were due to sail away to start a new life in Jamaica.  Before he could meet with her at their port of departure in Greenock, Mary died of a fever in 1786.  She is buried here in Greenock.

Picture from Wikipedia

Highland Mary

Ye banks, and braes, and streams around
The castle o' Montgomery!
Green be your woods, and fair your flowers,
Your waters never drumlie:
There Simmer first unfauld her robes,
And there the langest tarry;
For there I took the last Farewell
O'my sweet Highland Mary.

How sweetly bloom'd the gay, green birk,
How rich the hawthorn's blossom,
As underneath their fragrant shade,
I clasp'd her to my bosom!
The golden Hours on angel wings,
Flew o'er me and my Dearie;
For dear to me, as light and life,
Was my sweet Highland Mary.

Wi' mony a vow, and lock'd embrace,
Our parting was fu' tender;
And, pledging aft to meet again,
We tore oursels asunder;
But oh! fell Death's untimely frost,
That nipt my Flower sae early!
Now green's the sod, and cauld's the clay
That wraps my Highland Mary!

O pale, pale now, those rosy lips,
I aft hae kiss'd sae fondly!
And clos'd for aye, the sparkling glance
That dwalt on me sae kindly!
And mouldering now in silent dust,
That heart that lo'ed me dearly!
But still within my bosom's core

Shall live my Highland Mary.

Robert Burns

Isn't the last verse just heartbreaking!

Love, Liz