RABBIE’S HOUSE

A couple of years ago, I wrote about one of the local landmarks here in Atlanta: the Robert Burns House.

The house, built in 1910, is a reasonably accurate replica of the cottage wherein wee Rabbie Burns, the beloved Bard of Ayrshire, first saw the light of day almost 252 years ago. Today it serves as the monthly meeting-place of the Burns Club of Atlanta; it is not open to the public except on rare occasions. But that didn’t stop us from running over there last Sunday afternoon - it’s just a short ways down the road from where the Mistress of Sarcasm lives - and grabbing a few photographs.



Looking at this simple, unassuming cottage, it’s easy enough to allow your thoughts to be transported far away in time and space, to a land of misty lochs and fens, where a few drams of uisquebae are helpful in removing the damp and chill from the bones, and where oaten bannocks bake on the hearth. Can one live in such a place and not have at least a wee bit o’ poetry in one’s soul?