December 31 is Hogmanay in Scotland. While I don’t begrudge the Scottish their fun, it does seem odd to celebrate “the traditional present of an oatmeal cake” with its own day.
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I knew you were a silly moo.
I knew you were a silly moo. Hogmanay is the dandiest of holidays. You sleep until midnight and start then going as long as you can. My grandpa once fell asleep on a 7th tee somewhere about January 3rd. You get to first foot, change all the salt in the sharkers in the house, turn all the clocks 24 hours ahead and do all sorts of other good old pagan things. Never drink from your own bottle unless someone else is not around to keep you libated. Beats the Worst Party of the Year, the apparent North American tradition, hands down.
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