It’s the 13th January. You might be thinking WTF? Am I in some weird time warp that only happens when you are the mother of cats? No. Well possibly, but that’s another post.
I’ve always hated New Year, and specifically New Years Eve, or Hogmanay as it’s known in Scotland. It’s the expectation that everything is meant to be wonderful, filled with friends and family, toasting glasses of champagne in bars and restaurant’s with twinkly lights and everyone else as happy as you are. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had those Hogmanay’s and they were great, but I also had the year when I had a severe chest infection and decided to drink on antibiotics anyway. Or the year that my then boyfriend refused point blank to go to Princes Street to see the fireworks despite me having tickets because it was tacky. Or the year I did go to Princes Street and ended up freezing cold, soaking wet with champagne and snogging some dodgy Australian tourist. Or the year I had arranged to go out with a friend, causing a huge argument with my then boyfriend only to receive a phone call from my friend two days before hand to say she was snowed in, in Greenock. Or the year my friend killed herself on New Years Eve when I was out having a great time.
So needless to say, I don’t look forward to New Year. I think of Debbie every year at this time, and of her nephew that she didn’t see grow up. I think of the arguments I had with then boyfriends and the fall out, and the times when, despite my best efforts to arrange something I ended up trying to get to sleep as all around me I could hear fireworks going off in celebration.
So I don’t like New Year.
Which is why, when I read an article on the island of Foula in Shetland, and how they still celebrate Christmas and New Year according to the old Julien calendar, meaning that Christmas Day is on the 6th January and New Years Day on 13th, I decided to follow their tradition. So this year I celebrated New Year today, and it feels right. It feels like I’ve skipped a beat and today feels like the fresh start of a New Year. It’s missing all the huge amount of food and drink consumed and family fights that normally happen on the 1st. It’s missing the ‘most depressing Monday of the year’, as that first Monday of the New Year hasn’t happened for me. It feels like a fresh start, and isn’t that what everyone wants for a New Year?
Happy New Year!
The photo is of Ruben ready to party.