When I was a kid, my Dad would mysteriously disappear every New Year’s Eve at about 7/8pm. He’d leave the house carrying a bottle of whisky, some food and a piece of coal.
Yes – Being tall, Scottish, with black hair and not bad-looking, he was in High Demand this night.
It’s called First Footing.
Today it would be called something totally different, sadly :o(
I’ve had many a dour adult New Year’s Eve with people who are all Xmassed out. Pooh to Party Poopers!!!!
I think Nicola Fish, Scotland’s First SeaCreature has cancelled Edinburgh AGAIN this year.
Bet she’s getting pished in private tonight and laughing her Manolo Blahniks off.
Happy Next Year and Slainte to all those who pretend to be…..