Eves are sometimes the best bit. Eves are filled with anticipation and promise. Apple and pears are often coupled, but to me apples and eves fit better together.
At some point on Christmas Eve, things become still and quiet after the unnecessary rush and hurdles of preparation. There is a point where everything is ready. Or as ready as it will ever be. There is nothing left to be done. I love that point. It is muffled and quiet. Settled. It contains the right amount of rest and hope.
I still find it hard to sleep on Christmas Eve. Not now because I am waiting for Santa, but because I am savouring the peace and stillness. A most treasured present of the year. Then the eve unfolds into the day, and the muddle of Christmas begins.
New year's eve seems quite different. It has a more raggedy edge. Marking the start of something new and the end of something else. It means staying up late, being awake for the very start of the day. Wearing good clothes, perhaps being with other people. Kissing strangers. Suddenly, the promise of the new arrives in a chaos of tv countdowns and mistimed watches. Sometimes it feels a bit similar to what came before.
We have had many lovely New Year's eves with friends and family. Eating special meals. Desperately staying awake until midnight. Waiting until midnight to join strangers at the beach with a ragbag of traditions collected from heaven knows where.
Those traditions and superstitions vary the world over. Scotland, though, makes special claim to hogmanay rituals. These vary from house to house. If at home, we must wear shoes, not slippers, to ring in the bells. My mum loved redding (clearing) out after Chrismas in preparation. I have stuck with Skittery Winter (although I mispronounced it for years as Scootery Wintery). This is harsh on the last person to wake up on New Year's Eve. They get called Skittery Winter all year. For no real reason. To no real harm.
Recently, on the beach at Portobello, we've been eating 12 grapes in time to the striking of the bells.
It is perhaps coincidence that one of my favourite films is All About Eve, which crackles with witty one-liners and wounds with bitter truths. Jenny Stevens captures its brilliance here.
What could be better this New Year's Eve than to watch the movie while eating another favourite - Eve's pudding. Nigel Slater drops a beautifully simple recipe in his musing on the healing power of puddings here.
Happy new year, however or whether you mark it. Peace, healing and much fruit to you all.
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