White Horses

'To the sea ' I cried, when for the first time in a week, the opening of the blinds this morning displayed clear skies and sun.
His Lordship who was in sleep deficit and alcohol profit, didn't raise enough objections to abort the idea.

But if we thought for an instant that we had hit upon an original thing to do this fine day, we were abused very quickly when we joined a convoy of tail lights coast bound and discovered every car park from Longniddry to Gullane, choc-a- bloc with cars and people.
It seemed as if everyone capable of putting one foot in front of another was out on the beaches trying to dispel the misery of the recent wet weather and the excesses of the festive season.

The sea was awash with white horses and kite surfers out in force as they skimmed over the waves, their prowess making it look easy.

By all accounts Edinburgh put on an amazing Hogmanay party lat night at which His Lordship and I were noticeably absent.
The fireworks at midnight sounded like an enemy bombardment. Had the wartime sirens sounded for a quick exit to the Anderson Shelters, we would not have been unduly surprised.

But this came after a lovely evening and meal with Poppy and Postie, an evening of much laughter and chat.
When they left to watch the fireworks in the city centre, his Lordship and I managed to stay awake long enough for the bells and a toast to our continuing good health and happiness.

And to all who read this, A Guid New Year to you too and Lang May Yer Lums Reek!