Happy New Year?

Bad Bad Bad.

Fireworks into the wee small hours and noisy revellers in the lane outside ditto. (Though saw them putting out the empty bottles late this morning with sore and sour expressions so don't feel quite so put out now.)

6am and 5 blackbirds were having a row on the roof. Worse even than the drunken neighbours. And they don't even have the excuse of New Year celebrations.

Just about back to sleep and They got up to go to an antiques fair. He tripped over the slippers He'd jettisoned onto the floor last night. Banged His knee and swore. So did She, from under the duvet.

OLAHF's family collected it late last night from beneath the bird table. (Obviously had not forgotten the last time OLAHF heard some fireworks.) 'Tis back again now under the diminishing lump of goose fat.