Like many other Londoners who came from the North but sound like they grew up in Kent, there are certain times when my paternal lineage bubbles up and I come over all Scots: New Year’s Eve, St Andrew’s Day, whenever Scotland beat England at something, discussion of tuition fees, listening to Alex Salmond choose the Proclaimers on Desert Island Discs, hearing people sing the wrong words to Auld Lang Syne (and feeling compelled to correct them), watching Local Hero/Gregory’s Girl, and of course Burns Night. Read the rest of this entry »