For the first time in as long as I can remember, I struggled to get excited about Hogmanay, the Bells, and the New Year. Social media was full of positive posts brimming with hope, and I felt the pull to pretend, but I am committed to not people-pleasing, because I have done quite enough of that, so I wasn’t going to pretend to be a joyful firework of positivity.
I am disgusted at what the U.K. establishment has turned the U.K. into, and I cannot muster much hope that 2019 will bring some sort of magical resolution to the deep divisions laid bare. The only hope I have is that Scotland will choose a different path, and embrace independence. In the long run, I believe that would be beneficial not just to Scotland, but would create a shift in the economic landscape in England, taking the focus away from the South.
So that is where I was last night, as Hogmanay inched towards Ne’er’s Day. Physically I was curled up on my sofa with a glass of wine intending to go to bed early, which is exactly where I wanted to be. The fireworks began cracking around 9pm, and I knew I wouldn’t get to sleep until they stopped. It’s a residential area, and I fully support banning the sale of fireworks to private individuals. Aside from the noise, there is also the single-use plastic litter issue to consider.
For a change, instead of just grumping, I grabbed my newest set of art pens and decided to try them out on one of the scallop shells I have been hoarding. So I sat there in the low light from a lamp, with the fairy lights twinkling, grumping to myself, and I decorated a shell.
The bells passed, and I transitioned from the old year to the new year being creative, which may not have been where I planned to be, but it turned out to be exactly where I wanted to be.
365 Days of blog prompts ~ Where was I last night when 2018 turned into 2019? Is that where I wanted to be?
Thrummie Bizzum 
Leave a reply to thrummiebizzum Cancel reply