What a whirlwind of a holiday. From the dramas of the BIG SNOW to all the glittery nonsense of the holiday season. Panic buying, even though I thought I was prepared…asked John for a ladle, which he kindly got for me (I was black affronted having to serve up soup with a coffee mug) and it looked quite quaint amongst all the chocs and socks and so on. I like it…a good ladle!

Took this picture of Gerry in Glasgow, after going to the Kelvingrove Art Gallery…Don’t know why it caught my eye!

Loved having my girrils back, and was appalled how the newly decorated bedroom was suddenly blitzed with make up, jewels, and clothes within seconds of them arriving. Then the boyfriends arrived and I was glad to have Delia and Nigella close at hand.

One of the highlights for me was a lesson of ‘Sushi-making for beginners’ run by Tasha…Gerry and I were the sous-chefs made to do all the menial stuff like chopping and rolling but the end product was deeeelicious.

We went for a night out to see Acoustic Dave in The Scotsman Lounge, just off the Royal Mile…it was all very busy and friendly and the beer was flowing as was the vodka and everything else. I captured Gerry with a viking, who just wandered in off the street!

Good atmosphere and reminiscent of nights out in the Glenelg Inn, with the live singer and the general camaraderie. Gerry seemed to think she knew ALL the words of EVERY song… Natasha and I were not convinced.

We walked home at about 1 in the morning, full of the joys, (plus a pizza bought from a late night take away) through the Meadows, forgetting the advice of never walking there at night without a cricket bat….It was ominous as the fog descended, as thick as London Fog, and suddenly Natasha and Leo were gobbled up…I remember a horrid movie that has scared me all my life –‘Mrs Preston, Mrs Preston, you have only one month to live’ (footsteps grow louder) Eeeeks. Anyway John and I just galloped on regardless!!! (Leo is a big lad).

New Year was celebrated around a beautiful table with a candelabra and a flower arrangement from the Balmoral. My first kiss of the New Year came from Scotland’s leading criminal barrister, followed by two judges, then an elderly lady of 96 who had just returned from a trip to Tahiti. She had sort of backpacked, and travelled to some native village in a post van. She was cool. Fun evening, and then at 3.30 am John and I changed into our wellies and trudged home…passing remnants of the drunken revels, seeing the city sights. One girl was wandering alone, across the Dean Bridge in a sparkly silver dress, bare foot, without tights. She was a sad picture. I would have offered her a cricket bat, if I’d had one.

And finally the Messiah. Oh my! We popped our champagne and ate posh pate sandwiches and listened to the choir sing their hearts out…The Usher Hall was packed and the conductor led his orchestra and singers by singing every word himself. It was quite a feat…he mouthed the words, nodded, jumped and beckoned. The only thing was he looked a little like Richard Wilson, from ‘One Foot in the Grave’… and the bass singer had the look of Mr Bean. I was probably a little tipsy by that time…but I did restrain myself and didn’t join in with the Hallelujah chorus. (Memories of wearing ear muffs in a tourist shop, singing along with a Robert Burns song, and John coming over and telling me to be quiet, or just sing in my head….aaaagh the shame).

So, it’s a new year, and everyone has gone, the world is back at work, and now we have to hope that something good will turn up for us. I still have to pull the wish bone on the turkey…so will have to save up my wishes for that.

In the meantime, it’s onwards and upwards, the laundry is done, the rooms are vacuumed, and as my mum used to say. ‘Don’t let the New Year dawn on last year’s dirt.’