I do not really have favourite New Year’s Eve Memories. For 30 years I knew that after the New Year, usually on 3rd January, it was back to work for me and Mr. Swiss. I would still be recovering from the tasks of cooking for everyone at home, making sure that everyone was happy with the festive seasonal food, and I would be clearing away the Christmas tree, the decorations and fill the bin with unwanted wrapping paper.
The Eve of the New Year was the beginning of the end. The evening of the 2nd January would arrive. Both Mr. Swiss and I had a sinking feeling knowing that tomorrow it was back to the daily dredge. Generally Christmas and New Year would be snow free, but usually at midnight on 2nd January, or perhaps an hour earlier, it would begin to snow as it it had been saved over the Chrismas holiday as a surprise start to the new year working day. And it would snow and snow and snow. In the morning we set off to work in our cars. Mr.Swiss direction Bern, and me direction village outside of Solothurn.
Beginning work after a 1-2 week holiday was never fun, but it was double misery driving through the snow and ice, as at 7.00 a.m. the roads had not yet been cleared, and after the holiday everything was at a slow start.
Memories of a special new year’s Eve, due to throughts of future snow and work at home and in the office, do not exist – not only am I the Christmas grinch but the New Year misery. No, there was never a happy new year in that sense of the word. And in my days of being a teenager in England, we did not even get the day off school or work for the day. It was only in later years that the Brits discovered it might be a good idea.
Perhaps this year and the last couple were happy memories when I could relax and say “Happy New Year” to Mr. Swiss sealed with a kiss, because we knew it would be a happy begin without the stress of returning to the work and daily stress routine and who cares about the snow.