Today is the day traditionally reserved for the Robert Burns supper. When we were in Scotland a few years ago, I developed a fondness for haggis, although, as any haggis diner will tell you, the less you think about the contents, the more you're likely to be able to finish your serving.

In the early 90s, Sandra and I, along with our dogs, Bob and Raye, drove to Prince Edward Island about this time of year. We were going to visit the MacGregors and to attend a dinner in honor of the Bard. We left after work on Friday night. The forecast said that we would see some snow, but we believed that we could outrun it. By the time we reached Calais, Maine, however, the snow was falling heavily. At a coffee shop, the truck drivers who were heading south reported that it was slow going on the Canadian side.

Onward we went. Our little Subaru, with four-wheel drive, held steady on the snow-covered roads. The visibility was deteriorating, however. At one point, between Saint John and Sussex, we got behind a snow plow and followed its tail lights. The trouble was, the visibility was so bad that the light we were following stopped being the snow plow and turned into a light on a farm house on the side of the hill. Sandra brought this fact to my attention just before we went off the road and into the deep culvert. At that point, we decided that we needed to find a place to stop for the night.

The Bluebird, a restaurant and motel in Sussex, New Brunswick, will forever be on our gratitude list. We arrived at three or four in the morning, had a bite to eat, and checked in to our room. Two days later, we were able to leave. (Weather forecasting in New England is a competitive sport, but not so elsewhere. We heard precious little about the weather on any of the radio stations.) The storm closed the highways in all directions. Even the snow plows were ordered off the road. A few other people, including the restaurant staff, were stranded with us. By good fortune, the cook had just made a full supply of pies for the weekend. We ate well and stayed warm.

The Moncton newspaper reported that we'd received 1.5m (about four and half feet) of snow. Drifts were to the rooftops of many houses. By the time we were on our way, the roads were snow-covered, but passable. We made it to the Island and learned that the Burns dinner had been postponed because of the storm. We attended the rescheduled event a few days later, with one of Sandra's cousins as the master of ceremonies, and sang Auld Lang Syne.