So, it seems that The-Man-I-Married has put quite a bit of work the way of an Edinburgh-based company, and as a result was invited to a very swanky Burns Supper in the city this week. And I got to tag along too. Result!
We were provided with a night's accommodation in a suitably swanky hotel, I dug out the only vaguely swanky dress I could squeeze into and a fun (and swanky) time was had by all.
Organising an "Away" event like this is always a bit stressful. My mother often says she's happy to babysit, but in fact spends so much time worrying about everything that could possibly go wrong that she winds me up until I'm all tied in knots. I frequently find myself asking "Is this worth it?" as I'm writing down endless of lists of what to do just in case this happens; who to call in case of that particular emergency. Mum doesn't "do" going with the flow and likes to have step-by-step instructions for tea, bathtimes, bedtimes, breakfast, schoolbags, homework, bus timetables, breathing. Me? I'm a "Suck it and see" kind of a gal and I find all this endless agonising over every last detail a bit draining. I phone my mum up to ask if she could babysit and the more she talks the faster I can feel my enthusiasm for the project evaporating into the ether.
However, I held my breath, tried to remain impassively calm in the face of rising hysteria from Mother and let The-Man-I-Married whisk me off for 24 hours of fun at someone else's expense. (That's always the best sort, I think!)
Edinburgh was lovely. I haven't lived there for nearly twenty years, and there are lots of new shiny buildings in places where there didn't used to be anything new and shiny, but the heart of the city remains much the same and the familiarity was calming and exhilarating at the same time. Flashbacks of youthful escapades invaded my headspace as we flitted past some of the dodgier looking pubs and clubs! One things for sure, twenty years ago I don't think the owners of The Glasshouse would have been half so welcoming to my student-self as they were on Wednesday night.
The Burns Supper followed a fairly traditional format whereby much champagne was forced down the throats of the audience in order to put them into a receptive mood for the speeches. Actually, it wasn't just champagne. There was red wine, white wine, whisky, port and some really rather good food too. Five courses of it!! Tiger prawn and crabs all towered up and posh; haggis, tatties and neaps served with a dram of whisky for toasting purposes; beautifully rare beef with cauliflower and cabbage; three tiny little puddings all pretty on a plate and a very generous cheese board, coffee and tablet. My poor dress!
And, because it was a Burns Night celebration, there was the Selkirk Grace, the Address and Toast to the Haggis, The Immortal Memory, The Address to the Lassies and the Response from the Lassies. There were some very good speakers, although the poor bloke who'd been volunteered to do the Address to the Lassies had lifted much of his material from tinterweb and so quite a bit of it wasn't "new" to me. I'm guessing that a lot of the people there weren't forumites because they were laughing like drains and obviously hadn't heard it all before!
The evening ended with a ceilidh, which I was happy to watch but couldn't join in...too much risk of ankle/knee/hip injury and I don't want to jeopardise the gentle progress I've been making on the wii fit. We left shortly before chucking out time to go and make use of the Honesty Bar in the hotel. The-Man-I-Married poured himself the largest Baileys I've ever seen, but I needed something cold so picked out a bottle of Peroni. We took them back to our room, but it was a struggle to stay awake - too much food, and too much alcohol, and besides the bed was just too comfy.
I woke up in the morning with my eyes all stuck together. I'd forgotten to check for feather pillows. It has been so long since I had to. It explained the comfiness but unfortunately they give me hayfever-like symptoms, so I went down to breakfast looking as though dh had punched me and I was still sobbing over it. Never mind.
Breakfast was lovely. There was a help-yourself continental breakfast bar and a selection of hot things. I knew we wouldn't be eating lunch, and imagining that the hot menu would be all fancy and in miniature, I helped myself to smoked salmon, cheese, fruit, crackers, juice etc. And then was handed a full size plate of eggs benedict with parma ham on a bagel. It was a struggle, but I knew I'd feel bad if I didn't thoroughly enjoy every last morsel, so I did.
I think this week's diet results might suffer horrendously for this, but hey, it's not often I get to be all swanky and as I've been discov!ering lately, life's too short to not enjoy the good bits.
Slainté mhath!
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