But Life is Like a Party, And Parties Were meant 2

New Year's Eve, Hogmanay for us in the Land of the Picts, and this scenario will be playing out all over the world, as it has been for many years.

My earliest memories of Hogmanay was sitting for the Bells at about 9, and then Heading upstairs to First Foot the Dawdaws. I'd get a glass with a snifter of Advocat, and a pint of lemonade. We'd cheer in the New Year, and go back downstairs.

Years later, well, I was probably 14 or 15, my dad and I set out to first foot a little further away from home, and visited Wullie, Nanny, and John who stayed round the corner. Nanny and Wullie were from Islay, and had the best stories to tell. John, their son, an artist, had even funnier stories to tell. Nanny had a budgie who spoke, clear as day, in a West Highland Accent. We were sat down with a plate of soup and a glass of whiskey each. Dad fair enjoyed his, and when Nanny seen my face, she allowed me to water it down a little with some lemonade!

Another two years on, and I was out on my own, much the same as Toolibelle is tonight! Admittedly not quite as glam as she is! I was with my best mate, and we seen the New Year in, in her house, and then her big brother came in, to first foot, and announced he was heading out to first foot some more with his mates! Being slightly "involved" with one of them, I asked if I could go too, and he didn't stop me! I was gone!

The pair of us headed to Barassie, and met up with the rest of his mates, about 10 of them, in the middle of the street, and then began and chapping of doors like I had never experienced. For such a gang of us, we were welcomed with open arms.

We drunk in every second house in one long road, and in every house, there was a "Oach, there's a wee lassie wie ye". Then they would have a closer look at me, and say "and she's Sonny Henderson's Dochter". Yes, my resemblance to my dad was such, that any number of drunk people could identify me! From that night, to all those lads, I was "Sonny Henderson's Dochter".

We crossed the railway line (yes, sorry bad us, but they hadn't built the bridge at that time and it was a two mile round walk), some of the more gallant boys lugging me over their shoulders, and then dropping me at the other side.

We reached the road where we lived, and I started to yawn. It was about 5 in the morning by this time, and I bade good night to the boys, all of whom had been perfect gentlemen, and headed off to my bed, to shouts of "Night night Sonny Henderson's Dochter".

That is how New Year should be, and that is why I'm quite happy to let my Toolibelle, go out and have fun with her friends! She isn't too far away, and she isn't away to traipse the streets. She's close enough that we can run round the streets to get her quickly.

Her Dad you see, has a different opinion. Before we got this far, we had a debate about the skirt, the makeup, the shoes, the venue.... the door was going to get locked.

But hey - She's her mother's daughter!! He knows she's a good girl! After all, isn't that why he chose me?