That’s no ordinary pizza. It is an abomination known as a haggis pizza, which some places are offering for Robbie Burns day. Even Dominos in Scotland is making them. If that doesn’t drive a person to drink, I don’t know what will.
I come from Scottish stock on my mother’s side. McCormacks they were, from the Isle of Arran, who were given 100 acre land grants in northern New Brunswick in 1832. My parents always attended the Robbie Burns banquet, the central feature of which was the piping in of the haggis. My only experiences with Scotch have led to the worst hangovers I’ve ever suffered, so I don’t think I’ll be raising a glass in Burns’ honor tonight. And I don’t think the local Dominos would know what to do if I (heaven forbid) should order a haggis pizza.
To prepare for the forthcoming Season Six of Lost, I watched almost all of Season Five this weekend. Made it through the first four DVDs, leaving only the two-hour conclusion to be seen, along with the extra features. I’m glad I refreshed my memory, as there were some events that had escaped my recollection. It was also interesting to watch the last several episodes knowing the truth behind Locke’s ressurection, insofar as we know the truth. A lot of dialog takes on different meaning.
I posted my reviews of The Spire by Richard North Patterson, The Night Monster by James Swain, and Horns by Joe Hill. I liked Horns a lot. The other two, well…
Ridley Pearson is going to be at the local B&N tomorrow night. I think he’s also going to be at Murder By the Book, but this is much more convenient so I might drop over to see him. We don’t often get the really big-name authors in our community. The last one I recall seeing was Kathy Reichs a few years ago.
