Well my dears, gather round while I poke the fire and gulp down another glass of vintage port. The cat's ill, the christmas tree is listing, but it has been an excellent festive season here in Penpont, embarrasingly quiet by some previous measures, though we did establish the precedence of an annual Poets' Night out in Dumfries (we met in the 17th Century Coach and Horses in Dumfries, a pub occasionally frequented by Burns and, before him, Fergusson). Apart from that and my neice's wedding party in Glasgow (she got married in Mauritius), we have spent most of the time working our way through a tumulus of books and walking in the mist and frost. During my time off I was supposed to be writing a course on Mary Queen of Scots for my work but haven't done a syllable. Never mind.
2008? A good year I think. A lucky year. And a good blogging year. I even got to meet some of you for the first time, notably La Fox, Colin and Rob MacKenzie. When I first started this blogging mularcky I thought it was a bit of a solitary thing like a diary. I still do, but it's a diary with rich and talented eavesdroppers, all welcome.
2009? I want my family to go from strength to strength. I want to see more of the elusive AndyMac. I would like Shug Bryden and I to do my Scottish poems for the Summer and then get someone to agree to collect the poems I've done since Strange Bimbo. I would LIKE to get beyond Chapter Three of my Novel on the Mull of Galloway.
I NEED ABSOLUTELY Scotland to qualify for the World Cup.