Scallop Invasion

On a recent wee jaunt down the coast we decided to stop off in Portavogie for a nice seafood lunch in the Quays Bar & Restaurant (i had the scallops! delish)... at the edge of the car park there's a little trail that takes you to the beach, the trail itself is covered in scallop shells, fair enough i thought, until we got to the beach! What a surreal sight, there were scallop shells everywhere, all crammed in between the rocks and encrusting the remains of an old shipwreck like a jewelled treasure trove... 

the pictures paint a better image than i could ever describe...

Fae Twa Hunner Yeir

The annual celebratory tribute to the life, works and spirit of the great Scottish poet, Robert Burns (1759-1796). Celebrated on, or about, the Bard's birthday, January 25th

Many poems and songs have been written by Ulster-Scots bards in praise of Burns.  Ulster is the only area outwith Scotland where Scots has survived as a spoken language and Ive added 'Fae Twa Hunner Yeir' by Willie Drennan to the tail of this post.

...here's a brave wheen a Scottish delights i hoaked oot from Folksy 

(pinks the link)

 The Hunting Chair - Bonnie & Jackson

 Tartan Hoodie Cape - Fashion Couture

Timerous Beastie (Wee Edition) - Hole In My Pocket

Lilac Tartan & Charm Bracelet - Maffa

  

Cute Kirsty Cat Badge With Haggis & Tartan - Red Road Design

 Tartan Tote Bag - The Girl from the North Country

 Fae Twa Hunner Yeir 

Its twa hunner yeir, ay, an mair

fae Rabbie writ wurds tae an air

an his wurds o rhyme we'r fit tae mine

fae twa hunner yeir in auld lang syne.

Noo, there's boadies wha scrieve an scribble,

some in sense, an some in dribble,

boadiesaye stringin wurds thegither,

tae mak a point, or jist in blether,

but gye few pit it ower sae weel,

fae oot tha hairt, an wae tha fel,

aye lae'in ye in a state o wunner,

as Burns did bak in seiventeen hunner - 

wae taakin boot things he thocht wrang,

an singin o love throu poem an sang,

o birds an mice an girls mang barley rigs,

makin fun o ithers he thocht wus ligs.

He aye seen ayont tha guid an tha great

an dootfu daeins o kirk an state,

but for aa tha wee things he thocht richt -

wurds o licht aye poored sae bricht.

Ay, its twa hunner yeir, ay, an mair,

fae Rabbie writ wurds tae an air,

an his wurds rhyme we'r fit tae mine,

fae twa hunner yeir in auld lang syne.

- Willie Drennan