For auld lang syne
At the end of a difficult year, Yours writer Marion Clarke shares readers’ New Year traditions
Iam usually tucked up in bed by midnight, but even when she was in her 80s my mother always stayed up to see in the New Year and toast her absent friends with a glass of whisky. Rose Janes’ mother had a more unusual tradition: “As the clock struck 12, Mum would take a broom and sweep the old year out and the new one in.”
On the last day of December,
Mrs G Haddrell still keeps up her father’s annual ritual: “At midnight, my father would go out of the back door and come in the front door, taking the old year out and bringing in the new one.”
Evelyn Hall writes: “As my father’s birthday was January 1, we always had a party in our house. Having been in the Royal Marines, he liked his rum. He was quite tipsy by midnight when he used to go out with a piece of coal and knock on neighbours’ doors to bring them good luck.
“In the meantime, we were all watching The White Heather Club on TV with Andy Stewart and Moira Anderson.” Ah yes, Evelyn, I remember when Hogmanay wasn’t complete without bagpipes and Scottish folk songs.
These days midnight is marked with an explosion of fireworks, but
Mrs Tippins is nostalgic for a more melodious fanfare: “In the Sixties it was still customary to go to church and ring the bells to welcome in the New Year.
‘He used to go out with a piece of coal and knock on neighbours’ doors to bring them good luck’
Afterwards we went to a pub for a drink or two.”
Lorraine Dodd, who grew up in Ellesmere Port, remembers a more haunting sound than a peal of bells: “As my mother’s family always had a big party, my brother and I stayed with my father’s parents on New Year’s Eve. We were allowed to stay up an extra hour and Gran would tell us a bedtime story until we fell asleep. When the clock struck midnight, we were woken by the sound of ships’ horns at the docks.”
My favourite New Year story came from Norma Usher from the NorthEast of England: “New Year’s Eve was the only night of the year when we were allowed to stay up until midnight when we had a tradition called First Foot. A tall, dark-haired man, usually my uncle Bob, would wait outside the house carrying a tray on which there was bread, salt, a candle and a piece of coal. As the church bells announced the New Year, he would be allowed indoors to recite ‘May this house be blessed with light and heat, bread for the table, salt for the meat. May every day with prayer begin and peace and happiness dwell within’.”
Simple words that express my wish for all Yours readers, as we bid a relieved farewell to 2020 and pray for an end to Covid in 2021.