Viewing the dookers

Well, we saw in the new year up at Prestonfield House. The Disneyfication of Hogmanay taken too far - we were even serenaded with songs from Frozen or something equally awful. Gawdsakes.
No, a real Scottish Hogmanay had been happening back down the road a mere half mile from our house. A well known Embra hoodlum was shot dead outside the Anchor at ten to midnight; his pal is in a critical condition. Continuing turf war stuff, say insiders like MrFT. I’ve yet to sup in the Anchor despite its proximity - it’s not exactly on my bucket list. Kick the bucket list more like.
Anyway, we took a stroll up there in the morning to have a gawp and chat to the bobbies (cheerfully manning the tape - double time, they told us) before retracing our steps to look at the dookers down on the beach. 
And later, Barbie! Having failed to squeeze it into my viewing schedule for 2023 I was treated to a viewing. Treated, as our Amazon Prime account comes off m’lady’s bank account. And there’s some very amusing parts though the stitching comes apart in places. 
And so ended the first day of 2024. It’s going to be quite a year. ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY YEARS since the founding of HMFC so celebrations will be in order. Hopefully Disney won’t get anywhere near it.