Shhh. Don't tell anyone, but boyf and I are going to do something really shocking tonight. While the rest of Scotland girds its loins for the biggest drunken shit-faced hoo-ha of the year, we're...staying in. No first-footing, no roaring at the bells. No falling over in the street and no brain-cracking hangover tomorrow.
I should explain, for those of you that don't know, Hogmanay in Scotland is treated with a kind of alcoholic reverence. Here at the best of times we 'drink like it's going to be taken away from us', and New Year is the glace cherry on the cake of drunken bedlam. In the past I've watched guys toss flaming balls of tar into the sea, a procession of burning 'flambeaux' thrown in the river, fireworks over Edinburgh castle, fireworks in Aberdeen, danced on the table and played egg tennis in the Highlands, attended ceilidhs and parties and after-parties, crashed and burned and gate-crashed.
But this year, we are going to clean the house, toast each other quietly, and watch the new year come in with clear eyes. I can't wait.
Happy New Year all.