In England, we are just beginning to get ready for the big night of the year. Bodies are being bathed and dressed in finery, feasts are preparing in the kitchen, bottles are lined up, winking slyly at passers by. A few empties are already in the recycling bins.

In the Rhubarb Patch, the smell of casseroled pheasant, which has been marinading in red wine for the past twenty hours, wafts up to my study, exciting my cats so that they won't sit still.
Champagne is in the fridge, red wine is coming up to room temperature and the newly acquired (like, today!) music machine is primed with appropriate CDs.

I am going to shut down the machine in a few minutes, until the morrow's morn, so may I

THANK you all for the enjoyment I had derived from your fellowship,
and
WISH you, all and everyone, a good celebration of the past year and a hopeful view of the coming one, which I sincerely hope will bring peace, prosperity and happiness to us all.