Festis and Furrgus
Even Tara’s Taylor could be here this year.
And when everybody sat to the table there was more smoked salmon than we could imagine.
And yet me tell you we Blackthorn-Badgers know salmon.
And the champagne flowed without restraint.
Which is as it should be.
And everybody talked at once and not one person noticed.
Reminded me of the Guards mess after the fourth bottle had been emptied.
Then everyone retired to the living room for the present distribution. And dessert.
All the Mahoneys got socks.
Lots of other things but especially the extremely comfortable socks from Niamh’s store.
Zita got some ever so old vinegar.
From the wonderful olive oil and vinegar store near Eddy’s café.
Emmet got a beautiful sweater.
Because the Mahoneys know that Emmet’s apartment does not have even one fireplace.
And Niamh got some brand new records for her stereo system.
She was extremely excited.
We have a stereo in the second basement of the castle.
With gigantic speakers made by Mister Walker, who was a friend on the old Laird.
It comes in useful for celeighs mind you.
The party lasted until the very wee hours so our whole patrol routine was thrown into confusion.
We did not exit the house until nearly dawn.
So we joined the entire family in a Hogmanay sleep in.
The weather continued to be unseasonal, as it was noticeably warmer here than the castle.
But it remains wet and very uncomfortably slushy.
So uncomfortable that it requires a hot toddy, or two, to recover each times we return home.
We called cousin’s Morag’s hotel, The Witchery, to wish her a very happy Hogmanay.
And express our deep gratitude for being the Chatelaine of Tioram.
We had to do this early, before the festivities got well underway, as Morag cuts a mean rug don’t you know.
Mrs. T braved the fog and drove young Emmet to a New Years dinner with his old university friends.
But she came home to some very sad new from our Niamh.
Madame, her very very favourite ballet teacher died last night.
Niamh had alway meant to call her to express her gratitude for all the support Madam had given her while Niamh was at school.
And now she feels guilty. As we all do in such uncertain situations.
When our RSM died at Gallipoli and I was detached in France, it took me a week to write his dear wife a letter.
One of the hardest things I had ever done. Unfortunately it was good training.
So, as a needed distraction Zita and Niamh went out shopping for Miss Pancake’s welcome to her new home collar.
That was a good idea. Better than expensive Scotch let me assure you.
While shopping may harm your pocketbook, it does ignore your liver.
While Mrs. T and young Niamh were out and Craig was watching American universities play football we tidied up.
Mrs. T left us some dangerously delicious home made shortbreads to sustain our efforts.
The refrigerator is bulging with food.
It looks like our favourite dreams of weeks of thick ham sandwiches may come to pass.
And there is enough chocolate to stretch belts. Oh my goodness me.
Our Niamh and Miss Tarryn came here to decide whether to go to a New Year’s party, or not.
So Mr. and Mrs T were left a bit on their own, well with all of us of course, to see in the New Year.
They watched a mystery they cannot talk about.
Because Emmet wants to watch it with Alice back in Ireland.
And does not want to spoil it.
We did remind them of the importance of the First Footer mind you.