St Andrew’s Day falls on the last day of November and we have observed this in our household for many years, not just because of our deep-rooted Scottish links!  For the past twenty years or more, we have invited a number of friends to gather with us at a meeting of the local Caledonian Society to celebrate St Andrew, the patron saint of Scotland.  Andrew was the first apostle to be called to follow Jesus, but nobody knows why he became particularly associated with Scotland, a country which he never visited and far from his homeland. 

At the annual St Andrew’s supper and ceilidh, we enjoy Cock-a-leekie soup, followed by the traditional haggis piped in to the chanting of bagpipes, with delicious Cranachan (made of Scottish raspberries, cream, honey, whisky and toasted oatmeal) to round off the meal.  After this weighty repast, we then gird ourselves up for exercise, and clear the tables away for a ceilidh which caters for dancers of all abilities putting their best foot forward – or in some instances, both feet!  Now, I must lay my cards on the table here.  I have the advantage (under normal non-lockdown conditions) of attending weekly Scottish dancing sessions, so I get plenty of regular practice, but some of our guests are once a year dancers.  In fact, they are incredibly loyal to keep returning for what some of them view as the annual humiliation of attempting to dance Mairi’s Wedding with us.  You know who your friends are when they keep coming back for more!

So on this traditional last Saturday night of November, we were feeling very bereft of our friends’ company for the annual warmth and laughter of celebrating St Andrew’s ceilidh.  We couldn’t let the weekend pass by unmarked, so I ordered in a haggis (courtesy of our supermarket delivery) and we donned our kilts.  Chris opened his best single malt, and we enjoyed a Zoom quiz with several of the usual guests which included a special St Andrew’s round of questions (‘Which faith was St Andrew brought up in?’).  The final entertainment of the evening was screen-sharing one of our video clips from last year’s ceilidh, and without giving away any names, I will just say that I haven’t laughed so much all year!

It made me realise how much we have missed communal activities such as singing and dancing.  It has been a sparse year for our family ceilidh band with no weddings or concerts to play for.  The best thing about putting on a ceilidh is the way it caters for all ages and all abilities, with exceptionally fun music for audience and musicians alike – who can resist tapping their feet?  It doesn’t matter if people don’t know the dances because we call the instructions, and everyone accepts that Strip the Willow is likely to descend into mayhem.  But somehow, we always get through the dances with a great deal of laughter and entertainment along the way, and nobody minds when it goes wrong.  And there is a palpable sense of achievement when the determined and tenacious dancers finish in the correct line-up at the end, which I suppose is why everyone claps!  It’s the taking part which counts, helped by some gentle guidance along the way when the normal routines start to fall apart.

 We have now hung our kilts back in the wardrobe, after brushing the dust off the hangers, but believe me, we shall bring them out again at the first possible opportunity, ready for the invitation:  “Are ye dancin’? Are ye askin’?”

Sarah Bourne, Chaplain for the Arts – 2^nd December 2020                sarahbourne@banburystmary.org.uk