Our usual way of celebrating New Year's Eve is to bunker down by ourselves at home and watch woeful movies on TV. On a few occasions over the years we have been doing a bit of DIY and painted our way into the new year. In other words, we usually opt out of the celebrations. All too hard.
This year Mr. B put his foot down. The four of us cycled into the CBD to be amongst it. We got there a few hours beforehand to bags a spot with a good view. Whilst we waited Mr. B and the girls played cards, and I fell asleep, on the rug, out in the open, in front of thousands of complete strangers. Profoundly asleep, probably snoring and dribbling, and mumbling. Should have taken the TV option. But when the fireworks went off it was brilliant. There's something so exhilarating about fireworks - the noise, the colour, but it was the goodwill wafting about that made the event so uplifting. As we slowly guided our bikes homeward through the happy crowds and then freewheeled through the dark backstreets, I felt an overwhelming feeling of contentment. Worth the effort. Good start to the year.
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