“What’s
the time?”
“Another
hour to go why?”
“Was
just wondering.”
My
book was weighing heavy in my hands, so I had another look at the television.
With over two hundred channels in about ten different languages, you would
think there would be something worth watching, especially when you only had an
hour to go to midnight. Another new year: and this time with a thirteen at the
end. I don’t like the idea of thirteens on the end. On the other hand I do not
think my mum had a choice when she was born in 1913.
It
was then that Mr. Swiss (my man) decided it was time to try again on another
station. I raised my head from my book, perhaps hoping for something completely
different. It did not even have to be english, any language as long as I
understood it.
It
was dark and cold outside and my three cats were all settled somewhere inside.
Nera at the top of the cat play center to make sure everything was in view. You
never know, there might be a faint hope of a serving of tuna fish. Tabby, her
sort of twin sister (female cats are never serious about how many fathers are
around when they decide to mate) was in her favourite walled in place on the
carpet in the bathroom. OK, we do sometimes have problems manoevering to the
right seat when nature calls, but the cats moved in and took over. Fluffy, the
youngest, was curled up on the settee waiting for Mr. Swiss to sit in his
accustomed place next to Fluffy.
Every
now and again another firework exploded somewhere in the neighbourhood. Every
feline attempt to take a walk on a dark night was out of the question. Nera did
make try once or twice, but as soon as her sensitive feline ears picked up a
loud “Bang” she retired again to her pole position. Tabby did not even bother.
Did
my thoughts revert to the time some twenty-five years earlier when we were
celebrating New Year at a get-together with friends? Bringing our own
champagne glasses to make sure there were enough available. Dressed up and
ready for action: I was glad to be sitting in my own four walls, even if I did
only have a book and television for entertainment.
And
then Mr. Swiss made his decision and I found myself watching the story of the
Swedish group Abba with supporting concert clips and showing how their private
lives were functioning, or were not functioning, at the time of their fame. I
was glad it was all in english as my foreign language talents do not extend to
Scandinavia. This was interesting. I was never a big fan of Abba. I did
remember when they first arrived on the scene after winning one of the European
song contests with “Waterloo”.
Supplemented
with my coca cola supply (which I am not really supposed to drink – diabetes)
and a mouth full of crisps (potato chips or whatever) making a mess on the
floor with the crumbs I even put my book on one side. A Tale of Two Cities by
Charles Dickens was no competition for Abba. Tabby suddenly arrived on the
scene in the living room and sat quite still next to my chair. She is a chip
addict. She was looking at me with her big pleading cat eyes “What about me?”,
so I tossed her a chip. She ate it, was satisfied with the evening snack and
returned to the bathroom.
It
seems that not all was gold that shone with Abba. Björn Ulvaeus and Agnetha
Fältskog split up, as well as Benny Andersson and Anni-Frid Lingstad and by 1982
their career was more or less finished.
“It’s
nearly midnight” I said to Mr. Swiss as the Abba programme was coming to a
close.
“Yes”
he answered, “from the sound of the church it is”.
The bells from the near bye town of Solothurn, from all the many surrounding villages, as well as our village, were all ringing in unison. Not exactly unison, just a mixture of ding dongs and bongs all over. The cats sunk lower in their nocturnal seats. They were probably thinking about covering their sensitive ears with their paws.
The bells from the near bye town of Solothurn, from all the many surrounding villages, as well as our village, were all ringing in unison. Not exactly unison, just a mixture of ding dongs and bongs all over. The cats sunk lower in their nocturnal seats. They were probably thinking about covering their sensitive ears with their paws.
My
thoughts wandered to the small bottle of champagne in the kitchen. I really do
not like it so much. Gives me digestive problems, does not climb to my head it
overtakes my head and it was half a minute to midnight.
“What
do you think, do you want any champagne?” my other half asked.
“Not
really” I answered.
“Shall
we leave it?”
“Yes”
and
so we saw the New year in together in the living room with three sleeping cats.
Where
would I rather have been? To be quite honest I would rather have gone to bed at
11 o’clock, my usual bed time. It is only once a year that the New Year enters,
so I managed to stay awake and see it through.
For me, it was a selection of comedy shows on TV, then I watched the always very impressive firework display put on by London.
ReplyDeleteI would much have preferred to have seen in the New Year with Joanne, the location being irrelevant. Alas, though, it was spent alone.
I enjoyed reading this! Thank you for sharing. I also wanted a quite evening at home!
ReplyDeleteI had the best New Year ever as usual. In bed reading a book, started to want sleeps, looked at the time 12;22pm. That's what I do every night anyway. LOL.
ReplyDelete