So – today is 25 January – what do I write about? The Conversion of St Paul or Robert Burns? I have to confess to feeling somewhat iffy about Burns; I place the blame firmly on being brought up in London. On the other hand, it was a posh Grammar School and we did sort of study Burns and his poetry, but for some reason it never clicked with me. This in itself was unusual, for I lived my growing-up life as someone who felt like a Scot in England, and loved my yearly trips north each year.  Then when I moved to Scotland on leaving school, I ended up feeling like an English person in Scotland. It took a good few years for me to feel comfortable in my own skin……….. and now I know that I am forever a mongrel (Scottish mother, English father.)

Come to think of it, I never did understand the language in Robert Burns and the English Literature teacher at school was somewhat out of her depth. However, this morning I heard the inimitable My love is like a red, red rose………  and felt the better for it.

So here’s Eva Cassidy in a beautiful version of it. A different kind of spirituality from Paul, but valid nonetheless.

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7 Responses to Dilemma

  1. Cloudia says:

    come see my choice 🙂

    Please stop by today to share a special moment with me if you have the time. Warmly, c-
    Comfort Spiral


  2. Lyn says:

    Ahh. Eva Cassidy. Didn’t she have an amazing, sweet voice? Thank you for sharing it. 🙂

  3. Marcia Mayo says:

    Well mongrel, you’ve seemed to acclimate.

  4. Mina says:

    I grew up in Burns country, was force fed all things Burnsian! No matter how hard I tried I could not appreciate his work although I can misquote much of it. To hear his words sung so beautifully by Eva makes me think I should perhaps go back over some of his poems and see if I can appreciate them now.

  5. LC says:

    Ahhh! Thanks. Freda, for sharing that video. I feel better for it, too. Mina, I think I should go back for another try, also.

  6. Oh What God the giftee gee us? Mom quoted Burns all over the place, and she was Dutch.

  7. My father also spent his entire life (mis)quoting Burns and being gently but firmly corrected by my mother who invariably got it right (and they were both Welsh)
    An artist/poet is without honour in his own country appears not to be true in the case of the magnificent Rabbie.
    I have incidentally, a massive – family bible sized book of Burns complete works which belonged to my father and now sits with difficulty, on a much too narrow book-shelf of mine. Yes I do dip into it from time to time and feel he would have been more at home in the 20th century than in his. He would have spent far less time on the cutty stool in the Kirk I think.

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