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Helllooo? Anybody else back from the holidays yet? Personally, I've spent the past two weeks wallowing in calories of every shape and size, from hot buttered whiskey to Marge's To Die For Caramel Corn to prime rib. Christmas Day it was forty five degrees amd sunny, which was hands down the best present of the whole year.
Since our idea of excitement is to sit on the couch drinking Fat Tire beer, eating ripple chips and French onion dip and watching the Hannah Montana movie (honest to God, it was the best thing on television, and how pathetic is that?), it's probably no big surprise that we don't do New Year's parties. And now that we no longer live in the suburbs of Hermiston, Oregon, the neighbors no longer set off various types of large ammunition at the stroke of twelve, so I don't have to stand out in the pasture in my jammies making sure the horses don't run through the fence.
I've also never been much for resolutions, and my husband can't imagine what part of himself he would need to improve other than his bank account and his knees, but either would require doing something other than ranching. Which leaves not much to chat about on the ol' blog in regards to the new decade and all that. Instead, I'll send you over to my alternate blog, where I was equally at a loss so I slapped together a little New Year's story for your reading pleasure.
Lovin' the New Year
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5 comments:
The Christmas holidays in Scotland are simply rehearsals for Hogmanay. It's not just the parties, which everybody does everywhere nowadays anyhow, it's the fact that it stretches over several days. You see people trudging around well into January carrying their wee bags of presents to first-foot friends and neighbours. On the whole it's a happy, positive time, with no religions or politics getting in the way. On the other hand, you sort of wonder why we can't be as nice to one another the rest of the year, too. Happy 2011, Kari Lynn (and a special greeting to your husband's knees).
Wait, Bill, come back here! Hogmanay? First foot? I need translation.
You should never have thrown that tea overboard in Boston. Anyway, Hogmanay is what the Scots call New Year's Eve. It's from the French 'Au gui menez' (Literal translation - Lead me to the mistletoe).
And first footing is the practice of being the first foot across a friend's or neighbour's threshold. If your first foot is a tall dark man, you've more chance of your year being lucky. (I used to be in demand until I went grey.) The gifts you give are supposed to be silver, something to eat and something to warm you. The silver can just be a coin, the warming thing a lump of coal (and the obligatory dram of whisky) and the food - well, anything, but the traditional thing is shortbread.
So Happy Hogmanay.
Oh, shortbread. Sigh. Used to love the tins of Walker's we got in Canada. Then my mother found a recipe that's just as good and we don't have to buy it anymore.
So us short women have to hang around in the background because nobody wants us to be the first foot? Well. One more reason to run on Indian time.
Thoroughly enjoyed your post, AND the story over at the other blog! :) Thank you for sharing both!
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