Tuesday, December 31, 2013


In reminiscing about my American New Year's Eve last year, I remember the little friend who kept me company on that frigid night. Yes, I had a bat...er...mouse...in my Idaho belfry. A mouse, I say, because I had seen only one at a time. They didn't scurry around in mobs, like roaches, and a mouse didn't mind taking a dive for a kabibble right under my nose in broad daylight--although I think that was an error in judgment on his part. His bud said, 'Mistake, buh-ig mistake, Harold.'

Now, when I mention kabibbles, one might misunderstand and think I was untidy. Judging by the general maligning they get, not to mention downright horror-accompanied-by-creeping-of-the-flesh at the mere mention of the diminutive tykes, it would not bode well for me to admit that, no, I was not untidy, I just felt sorry for the starving little buggers and only picked out the tastiest dainties (nuts, birdseed, healthy cat-crunchies, and homemade, whole-grain bread crumbs) for them and left them on a pretty dish under an antique buffet at night, so they'd feel safe darting to and fro. No, I won't admit to  it.

I felt lucky that they contained their foraging to my kitchen floor. Not one had ventured to my bedroom, but woe for me if I happened to drop a sticky crumble of my midnight snack on my nightie--I might have felt little twitchy-whiskers in my bed. Hmm, though maybe that wouldn't be such a bad thing.

Speaking of rodents, I've been gathering up little newsy items like a mousie storing seeds...but Skye folk are pretty cagey about how they're going to celebrate the New Year, unlike Edinburgh, which blasts its party life intentions via every internet possibility on the planet. I have a serious feeling that if anyone on this misty isle is going to make merry tonight, they have a good idea where they'll be even if they aren't telling me. I see that Shooglenifty will be at Dornie Hall; the Skye Gathering Hall in Portree will be dancing with Ros T and Munroso; and keep yours ears open for any local ceilidhs in your neighborhood. Party vicariously all evening with BBC Alba or liven up your sitting room with Cuillin fm 102.7 at 10 pm. 

Ho hum, yes, I'm heading over for tea at Skeabost Hotel, in just a few---wheeee, party on girl! It gets crazier later on--chocolate, Laphroaig and a good book. If I down enough whisky, maybe Mr. Twitchy W will materialize in my dreams!

If you go out, take care and if you are drinking, call a friend for a ride.

Happy Hogmanay to all critters, great and small, on this wet winter's night. I wish you shelter, a kiss for the new year, and may all Skye nibblers have enough kabibbles to fill their tummies and warm their hearts.

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