Spring flowers are already breaking soil

All of us were safe at home to see in the New Year, I kind of prefer it hermit style. A Happy New Year phone call to Mum and Dad at the bells whilst watching the Hootenanny and drinking cheap fizz. Bed beckoned about 2 while the kids were still up at dawn.

They were asleep by the time I rose to meet the New Year's first morning with a walk with the dogs and the wild things...roe deer sheltering, a totally airchie stoat breakdancing across the path and an Angle Shade Moth (kindly ID'd by the East Scottish Moth facebook dudettes and a NE Scotland Wildlife facebook dude) acting all mysterious and purply on the side gate.

While all the family slept on I headed off down to the beach to get gladly buffetted about by the north wind breeze some more, losing track of time and space. Then it was back to make some broth (a News Year's day in Scotland without the big soup pot being on is kind of unthinkable), endure the last dire season of vikings (should have quit while they were ahead in season 4) and sloth out on the sofa on my tod whilst eating things that are really, really bad for me.

I missed heading out to have a first fittin' visit to my folks this year. I've long let go of the daft notion of distilling hopes and experiences into yearly chunks, but will always give a healthy nod of respect to seasons past, in full pelt and pending...so two glasses of bubbly down last night I still ran to open and close the back door to let the old year out before opening and closing the front door to welcome the New Year in. And when I do get an opportunity to first fit Mum and Dad when it's safe to do so, of course it will be with a wee lump of coal.