The Pig Pen Ceilidh

It’s been dark for hours and it’s bitter outside. There’ll be snow tonight. But in here, we’re toast-warm and cosy. The fire’s blazing and we’re snuggled close on bales of straw, mugs of hot tea cradled in our hands. Lit by rude candles, we see each other only in silhouette. But the laughter’s clear enough, carrying above the Irish folk music coming from the temperamental CD player.

The coals are glowing now and the frying pan’s spitting. The whiskey’s flowing, the cigar smoke curling. The poetry speaks of men and pigs.  The song lyrics declare impassioned love: ‘I would rather be lying with you tonight than have a thousand black cattle.‘ Behind us in the darkness, the sow grunts and snuffles and sleeps by turn.

We’ll stay here for an hour or two yet, roasting chestnuts, telling tales, listening to the rain drum on the thin roof. Then we’ll damp down the fire, brave the cold and wend our separate ways home.

For now, though, we’ll linger. Enjoy the fiddles and the friendship and the food. Enjoy the pig pen ceilidh.

Comments

[jeand]

This sounds an amazing evening! Your descriptions are so evocative - I love "the sow grunts and snuffles" , it really adds to the picture inside your barn. Great!

[Claire]

What a lovely evocation of warmth and friendship - I wish I'd been there!