It's amazing to look back over the last few New Years and see where we were.
2010: Scotts Head with my lover boy and a little blonde headed boy for the first time and no fireworks
2009: flying from Amsterdam to Oz with husberando and baby bump, we flew over India at 11.59 and then it was 12.30, we missed the tick-over and again no fireworks
2008: Scotts Head with husberando and FIREWORKS
2007: in Amsterdam with my shiny new husband, a bunch of friends and an even bigger bunch of fireworks (think war zone kind of big)
2006: Scotts Head, no husband but a bulging wedding folder and fireworks!
And 2011? Swimming at Eastern Beach, grilling on our little gas cooker, wandering through the crowds, driving home, dancing with sparklers on the front verandah, and watching fireworks from the water tank. Perfect.
Overheard NYE conversation whilst watching fireworks and contending with mozzies:
Little house guest: My dog died of this.
Andrew: What, your dog died from mosquitos?
Little house guest: No, my dog died from fireworks.
Andrew: Your dog died from fireworks?
Little house guest: Yeah, my dog died from fireworks.
See, said it was perfect (except for all the other beautiful people we would love to have around).