Is well known Scottish folk song, sung in many English-speaking (and other) countries to celebrate the start of the New Year at the stroke of midnight. By extension, its use has also become common at funerals, graduations, and as a farewell or ending to other occasions.The last chapter of 2010 was defined by the banes and blessings that life gives us. Whether we want them or not. Below are my own 14 B & B s that defined my December 2010.
Blessing: a dear old friend (as in time we have known each other - definitely not our individual calendar) and her lovely Bond-boy came for an long-anticipated visit to celebrate her 1/2 century mark upon this planet.
Blessing: my eldest hermana visited with my niece and her boyfriend as they conducted a pre-relocation reconnaissance trip to the southwest.
Blessing: back to back visitors forced me to take some needed time away from the office to be a ... person.
Blessing: a 9 year old son.
Bane: a 9 year old germ-infested son.
Bane: a 9 year old who has germier schoolmates who shared a flu virus.
Blessing: being self-employed so that I can stay home and nurse sick 9 year old.
Bane: work-aholicism compromised my immune system and allowed the insidious flu virus to take root in my system.
Blessing: 9 year old recovers in 3 days.
Bane: flu virus within me turns into pneumonia, with a dose of double ear infections, an assault of sinusitis, and a smattering of conjunctivitis in both eyes.
Bane: 3 weeks of illness requiring two rounds of hi-octane antibiotics and a perpetual high fever.
Blessing: very cool delusions and hallucinations as a result of 102.5+ fevers.
Blessing: older children come home from college for the winter holidays.
Bane: doctors wanting to do yet another MRI and ultrasound to try and determine what the mass is that has taken root in the locale previously occupied by my right ovary.
Blessing: Well enough by New Years Eve to toast my 22nd wedding anniversary with an expensive and fab Zinfandel that my "old" friend brought from Toulouse.
Blessing: Being here to bitch, moan and celebrate the diverse banes and blessings life deigns to bestow.
. . . And surely ye'll be your pint-stowp!
And surely I'll be mine!
And we'll take a cup o' kindness yet,
for auld lang syne.
We twa hae run about the braes
And pou'd the gowans fine.
We've wandered mony a weary foot,
Sin' auld lang syne.
We twa hae sported i' the burn,
From morning sun till dine,
But seas between us braid hae roared
Sin' auld lang syne.
And ther's a hand, my trusty friend,
And gie's a hand o' thine;
We'll tak' a right good willie-waught,,
For auld lang syne.
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