*Now! Listen as I revisit my past*

Today’s memory is from almost forty years ago when I was a lot younger and not quite so wise.

I was working on a radio station that did live cookery every Monday afternoon with a visiting expert (whose name I seem to remember was Miranda). The station’s kitchen had a red light above the door, but in contrast to the standard studio setup it didn’t mean “Do Not Enter” but rather “Come in and get your coffee, but be prepared to be told to measure/stir/taste something”.

On Burns night Miranda cooked a haggis, and the programme’s producer recruited me to be the Voice Of The Haggis, with the aid of a little squeaky thing (you’ll have to imagine the noise – a little squeak!)

This is what the listeners heard:

“So, we get the haggis out of its basket” *squeak*

“It’s a very good-looking haggis” *squeak*

“Feels very nice” *squeak squeak*

“So let’s dunk it in the pan of boiling water” *SQUEAK! squeak squeak squeak…*

“It’s got away! Catch that haggis!”

*squeak squeak squeak* assorted clattering noises and squeaks.

I don’t remember being asked for my Equity card or getting a credit… 🤣