New Year's Eve.

Much of the night was spent marvelling at how grown up we had all become and how pregnant some of us had become. Yabs checks out the rules and Nabdor looks on.


The scary guest of honour. Waitrose Christmas pudding. After lighting it with hot brandy we all sort of stood and stared. I because I've been there before and have no desire to go back, them because of my reaction.




The rest of the evening was good food and conversation, and then the grimacing at Dick Clark.

Just because we got home at 12.30 and went straight to bed doesn't mean 'the hood' slept. Fireworks, noise and shouts of happy fuckin new year!!! abounded until the rain at 3am.

Happy New Year!