Burns Night by the skin of our teeth!!

[ELY]

Having -finally- decided upon a tartan that would mean something to him, my fiancée chose the Galician national tartan. We were going to attend a Burns night dinner with friends, and just go in "street clothes". Then it all went a bit manic. I got myself into a pickle, because of my big mouth, and because I can't resist a dare, so I had to do the Lassies Reply. The gentleman that was going to do the address had an accident, and two days before the dinner had to drop out. So my partner got bamboozled into doing it.
So here we were, two days before the event, and no kilt!!!
We went online and ordered from the Spanish website. Turns out, when you click on the English button, it connects you with the maker in Scotland. After an email to and an email fro, we ordered it with next day delivery. Next day, NO delivery. On the morning of the dinner, I was driving home (I live in a VERY rural part of Spain) and crossed paths with a courrier van. I slammed on the breaks, and yes, he was lost, looking for my house. He didn't have the package with him, since he didn't know where it was, and didn't want it to get lost -bless him-, and he would bring it tomorrow morning... NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! I explained it was very urgent and that we needed it for that evening, that we had paid for next day delivery, and we NEEEEDED it that evening. He promised to drop it off, at the crossroads, at 5:30pm. He did!! So the kilt, fly plaid, shirt, hose and flashes all arrived at 5:30pm, and the dinner was at 8pm!! Phew! We went for the Jacobite shirt, since it was such short notice and we didn't have time to get the PC or anything else.

Anyways, this is the result. The brooch for the fly plaid hadn't arrived, so we improvised with a BTP dog handler remembrance poppy brooch, I bought a beautifully carved sgian dubh that morning!
He was the only one in a kilt, and I think it all came together nicely. Whattaya think?

[ELY]

For your amusement, this is my reply :

I was roped into this Reply thing
before knowing what it meant
So yet again, me and my big mouth
Have gotten us into a great big mess
I’ll do anything on a dare, I said
And here, as you see, I’m set!

I’m not too sure of what to say,
or even how to say it
My accent Scottish it is NOT,
And I’m not even going to try it
These humble words as a reply may sting,
but men, you can’t deny it:

We all know you men are strong
and you are oh, SO very smart
You look so good in tight bluejeans
while TRYING to fix the leaky tap
leaving the kitchen a right ole mess
and showing your pale-skinned buttcrack


You say women don’t know how to park,
‘cause we always smack the trunk
But honey that ain’t much our fault,
no matter what you thunk,
‘Cause Baby, we’ve always been taught,
8 inches is “this much”.

There IS one thing you do,
I WILL give you that much
Without much of an effort
or losing your manly-man touch
And that’s drinking a whole pint of beer,
in one long… hard… SLURG GLURG AAAHHH.

As much as you hate to admit it,
we women know that it’s a fact
You are soft, sweet and tender,
for under pressure you will crack
And you cry when your favorite team has lost,
another big (stupid) football match


When it comes to food and what to eat
Some of you behave just like kids
I don’t eat that, it looks like scum
It’s hot, it’s cold, it’s just the pits
Like little boys you moan and groan
Cuz it’s not like YOUR MOTHER makes it!!!

Your idea of fun, is SOOO overrated
If you don’t get muddy or bloody or hurt
You won’t bother doing or watching or playing
Because frankly, if it’s safe it lacks worth
Troglodites here in Granada, Neanderthals if you wish
That is your true nature, that, my dears, is YOU!

OH! and don’t get me started,
‘bout going out with “the mates”
Where you brag of your conquests,
your “size”, or your dates.
Why not better run around, pounding your chest,
Acting out your true nature, after all, you’re just primates!

But this one thing is certain,
My dears, one thing is true
I don’t know where we’d be,
without the likes of you
Two sides of a coin, one black and one white
You’re the sun to my tan, the heart in my chest,
the Man of my dreams, my Hero in Blue

[kingandrew]

What a great tale of almost-missed chances coming together! Given the constraints you were under, he looks marvelous. And as the only one in a kilt, it would be hard for any one to criticize him

I hope his address to the lassies was able to hold its own with your reply.

Andrew

[OC Richard]

Wow that was a close one!

Glad you got the kilt.

I think of my nephew, who was supposed to fly to Europe with his family, and had paid extra for expedited Passport processing, and day after day, their flying-out day fast approaching, it still didn't arrive.

Numerous calls, delays, lack of information, and finally the very day they were to fly out they were able to ascertain that the Passport was sitting in the Los Angeles office, an hour's drive away. A frantic drive, pick up the Passport, and straight to the airport and off to Europe!

Personally, my close call was the time I had sent my pipes off for some repair work, and waiting for them to arrive... and waiting... and finally the day arrived when I had a funeral to pipe at! The UPS truck brought the box, and an hour later I was playing them at the funeral. (I did have a Plan B, borrow a friend's pipes last-minute.)

[kingandrew]

I think my funniest last-minute experience was when I lived in Cleveland. I had an early morning flight out of Akron. But it snowed (imagine that) and I arrived about 5 minutes too late. I asked the airline check-in person what I should do. He said, "The plane will be making a stop in Pittsburgh."

So I got in my car and drove to Pittsburgh, PA airport. I ran through the airport (this was before 9/11 and all the new security) and was able to dash into the gate and onto the plane just before they closed the door.

Andrew

[tpa]

Having -finally- decided upon a tartan that would mean something to him, my fiancée chose the Galician national tartan. We were going to attend a Burns night dinner with friends, and just go in "street clothes". Then it all went a bit manic. I got myself into a pickle, because of my big mouth, and because I can't resist a dare, so I had to do the Lassies Reply. The gentleman that was going to do the address had an accident, and two days before the dinner had to drop out. So my partner got bamboozled into doing it.
So here we were, two days before the event, and no kilt!!!
We went online and ordered from the Spanish website. Turns out, when you click on the English button, it connects you with the maker in Scotland. After an email to and an email fro, we ordered it with next day delivery. Next day, NO delivery. On the morning of the dinner, I was driving home (I live in a VERY rural part of Spain) and crossed paths with a courrier van. I slammed on the breaks, and yes, he was lost, looking for my house. He didn't have the package with him, since he didn't know where it was, and didn't want it to get lost -bless him-, and he would bring it tomorrow morning... NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! I explained it was very urgent and that we needed it for that evening, that we had paid for next day delivery, and we NEEEEDED it that evening. He promised to drop it off, at the crossroads, at 5:30pm. He did!! So the kilt, fly plaid, shirt, hose and flashes all arrived at 5:30pm, and the dinner was at 8pm!! Phew! We went for the Jacobite shirt, since it was such short notice and we didn't have time to get the PC or anything else.

Anyways, this is the result. The brooch for the fly plaid hadn't arrived, so we improvised with a BTP dog handler remembrance poppy brooch, I bought a beautifully carved sgian dubh that morning!
He was the only one in a kilt, and I think it all came together nicely. Whattaya think?

I think both you and he did brilliantly under the circumstances and he looks very much the part. Just make sure he keeps wearing it, I've never had anything other than compliments wearing a kilt in Spain.

I cannot recollect any instance of quite so many things coming together at the last minute. The only similar instance I've never forgotten is from many years ago when the ferry from Aberdeen to Shetland dropped its half raised gangplank for us when we arrived on the key after a mad 90mph hour's dash in a taxi with little in the way of brakes. Our car had broken down many miles away in the middle of nowhere after we had filled it up with what turned out to be watered down petrol. Fortunately the only house within miles of where we broke down had occupant, phone and taxi company number and the taxi driver knew his way to the port.

It was worth it, Shetland was fun, as was managing a tent and kilt in horizontal rain.