It was Burns Night and usually one of the Southport wards would have used the occasion to hold a fund-raising event. Instead let me leave you with a poems I must admit I had not heard off by the man himself courtesy of Glasgow blog 'Caron's Musing' . She writes:
All over this past weekend, Burns Suppers have been taking place all over Scotland to honour our national bard. Sometimes I wonder why, though. For all the atmospheric rama of Tam O'Shanter and the poignancy of Ae Fond Kiss, he was not above spouting some misogynist bile. Andy Gray would no doubt be proud of this one.(that last sentence was added today - but maybe Burns would have been a football commentator if he'd been alive today)
Not that I'm one to hold grudges, but I do nurse my wrath to keep it warm on this one, The Henpecked Husband:
Curs'd be the man, the poorest wretch in life,
The crouching vassal to a tyrant wife!
Who has no will but by her high permission,
Who has not sixpence but in her possession;
Who must to her, his dear friend's secrets tell,
Who dreads a curtain lecture worse than hell.
Were such the wife had fallen to my part,
I'd break her spirit or I'd break her heart;
I'd charm her with the magic of a switch,
I'd kiss her maids, and kick the perverse bitch.
For sure, the picture he paints of this woman is not a pleasant one, but, frankly, if a man is capable of the last 3 lines, then he deserves everything he gets.
The whole post is well worth reading