It's All Over Bar the Shouting

I went out on patrol this morning to inspect the remains of the Hogmanay Street party in the City Centre with a blip in mind, but was disappointed to see that all the fun attractions in Market Street had been dismantled, leaving very little to suggest they had ever been there in the first place -not even a single portable toilet remained.

All I noticed were posses of young people dragging cases behind them as they made for the station in the kind of sunshine they might have wished for yesterday.
Safely installed in their trains they weren't to know that the sunshine didn't last for long before heavy showers of sleet blew in from a gun metal grey skies, transforming sunny shadows to icy gloom and back again.

Thirty five years ago and ten days late, my youngest daughter made an appearance in circumstances not to be encouraged, on a public holiday when hospital staff are tired and over partied. Fortunately it all turned out well, but where has the time gone since? Now she has two boys of her own with the youngest celebrating his 4th birthday tomorrow.
Happy Birthday Rosie!