Skypey New Year

We were enjoying the hospitality of the Singers last night as the clock struck Pacific Standard Time twelve, and were woken early this morning by 3-yr-old Sofia who performed a thirty-minute monologue (including singing and ballet) in front of our air mattress.

Earlier, at 4pm, once again through the magic of technology, we'd welcomed in the British New Year.  And when you own the Greenwich Meridian, it really is the only one that counts.  On one computer my sister played us the chimes of Big Ben, while on the other Hannah's parents let off fireworks in a very dark and very cold garden in Dorset (proving there are some things that are better when experienced in person.  Fireworks, that is.  Cold darkness can stay where it belongs).

Ooooh!

Aaaaah!