trinkie
20-Oct-07, 10:26
In a dimly lit room somewhere in the backside of Poltney
old freens and cronies gather to renew acquaintance.
Outside the autumn night is cold but inside the room is cosy,
the fire burning brightly spreading it's warmth among the guests
their cheeks now rosy-red. Each guest holds a glass.
On the sideboard the bottles stand ready and nearby on the
treasured old china plate sits the remains of the Currant Bun
Lavenderblue2 had lovingly made the winter before. For months
it was kept rolled in soft muslin and stored inside grannie's old tin box.
From time to time Lavb2 opened her precious bundle to pour brandy
onto the Bun making sure it was kept moist . This evening she proudly
placed it on the plate and shared it out amongst her friends.
Another plate held Ornkey oatcakes and cheese and still a third plate
had the delicious pancakes Torvaig had made earlier that day.
Trinkie stood nearby reciting The Ghost of the Hill of Forss, and as she
came to an end the crowd beamed and showed their appreciation.
Horseman was delighted and kissed her hand - “Losh Trinkie, that was grand,
it fair warms ma hert till hear that each year!”
Then suddenly, a cold chill crept into the room and the door creaked open “Fa's that?" whispered Sporran. But Trinkie moved slowly over and opened the door a bit wider.
“Och it's yourself Rob, come on in man, dont be standing oot there in the cold lobby.” as she took his arm and led him to her own old chair by the fire. “Sit doon lad, ye'll soon be warm here in ma chair.”
Tubs was already on his feet and filling a glass for their new guest. “Here ye are Rob a drop o' this stuph will soon put colour back in yur cheeks,
and see I've put it in yur ain favourite plastic glass!”
Then Lavender handed Rob a plate with a big slice of Currant Bun. “I made it masel “ she whispered.
Rob beamed and raised his glass to the company who smiled warmly in return.
Sporran now stood up and brushing some crumbs off her silken gown made her way to Rob's side and began to sing “Oh Wert Thou in the Cauld Blast?” surely Rob's favourite of all Burns songs, and the crowd watched as he too joined in “Wad be ma Queen.....Wad by ma Queen ...” Sporran blushed and sang on, her dulcet tones filling the room
Soon Tubs was on his feet again reciting some of his own poems.
Then Cedric took part in the Ceilidh and soon feet were tapping to the well known fiddle tunes as the musicians took their place on the floor.
The bottles now empty, the evening was coming to an end folk began to leave and wrapped up for the cold autumn night. Rob waved goodnight as he set off doon the path still humming Sporran's melody.
“Haste ye back Rob” said Trinkie as she waved her old hand.
old freens and cronies gather to renew acquaintance.
Outside the autumn night is cold but inside the room is cosy,
the fire burning brightly spreading it's warmth among the guests
their cheeks now rosy-red. Each guest holds a glass.
On the sideboard the bottles stand ready and nearby on the
treasured old china plate sits the remains of the Currant Bun
Lavenderblue2 had lovingly made the winter before. For months
it was kept rolled in soft muslin and stored inside grannie's old tin box.
From time to time Lavb2 opened her precious bundle to pour brandy
onto the Bun making sure it was kept moist . This evening she proudly
placed it on the plate and shared it out amongst her friends.
Another plate held Ornkey oatcakes and cheese and still a third plate
had the delicious pancakes Torvaig had made earlier that day.
Trinkie stood nearby reciting The Ghost of the Hill of Forss, and as she
came to an end the crowd beamed and showed their appreciation.
Horseman was delighted and kissed her hand - “Losh Trinkie, that was grand,
it fair warms ma hert till hear that each year!”
Then suddenly, a cold chill crept into the room and the door creaked open “Fa's that?" whispered Sporran. But Trinkie moved slowly over and opened the door a bit wider.
“Och it's yourself Rob, come on in man, dont be standing oot there in the cold lobby.” as she took his arm and led him to her own old chair by the fire. “Sit doon lad, ye'll soon be warm here in ma chair.”
Tubs was already on his feet and filling a glass for their new guest. “Here ye are Rob a drop o' this stuph will soon put colour back in yur cheeks,
and see I've put it in yur ain favourite plastic glass!”
Then Lavender handed Rob a plate with a big slice of Currant Bun. “I made it masel “ she whispered.
Rob beamed and raised his glass to the company who smiled warmly in return.
Sporran now stood up and brushing some crumbs off her silken gown made her way to Rob's side and began to sing “Oh Wert Thou in the Cauld Blast?” surely Rob's favourite of all Burns songs, and the crowd watched as he too joined in “Wad be ma Queen.....Wad by ma Queen ...” Sporran blushed and sang on, her dulcet tones filling the room
Soon Tubs was on his feet again reciting some of his own poems.
Then Cedric took part in the Ceilidh and soon feet were tapping to the well known fiddle tunes as the musicians took their place on the floor.
The bottles now empty, the evening was coming to an end folk began to leave and wrapped up for the cold autumn night. Rob waved goodnight as he set off doon the path still humming Sporran's melody.
“Haste ye back Rob” said Trinkie as she waved her old hand.