I think there must be something genetic, something planted in the DNA before birth, that causes the blood to stir at the sounds of Scottish Pipe bands. Apparently, I have always loved the sounds. I know it takes a lot to prevent me attending our Highland Square Day every December. I suspect its the touch of Celtic in my genes that transports me whenever I hear the pipes and drums, so I am pleased as punch that the Mayor has asked me to represent her next week at the annual dinner of the Pipes and Drums of Palmerston North & Districts. It will be great to be there to show support, but, oh! How I am looking forward to enjoying hearing them play! I can't think of a nicer thing to be doing on a cold winter's night.
UPDATE:
Have you ever had a really embarrassing moment when you just wished the earth would open up and swallow you whole? The annual dinner of the Pipes and Drums caused such a moment for me. Coming a couple of days after my birthday, my partner and I felt it would be a great night out. I was really looking forward to it and after preparing carefully (its a very dressed-up affair and I was told by the Mayor to " dress to the nines"), and having my hair and nails done, we headed off to the function. Only to find, on arrival, that the Mayor had not actually told them I would be representing her. Since the organisers had received her apologies they did not expect us and had no seating available. They were embarrassed, I was humiliated (can you imagine standing in the middle of a crowded room, all eyes on you, and being turned away?) and we left in all our finery to get takeaways for dinner and go home to watch television.
I have asked for an explanation from the Mayor. Her personal assistant was certainly under the impression that I was supposed to attend to represent the Mayor and council and had no knowledge of any cancellation.
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