First Foot

A very happy new year to you all. And an extra-special happy new year to any Romanians and Bulgarians who happen to be tuning in—welcome to the E.U., chaps.

Bill ably fulfilled the role of first foot at our house last night. I explained that, in the Yorkshire version of the tradition, he had to enter the house with some money, a lump of coal, some bread, a glass of malt whisky and half a pound of lard. Bill didn't believe me for one second, but went along with the joke on the condition that the photo I took of him doing it didn't appear on Gruts.

I'm a man of my word, hence the absence of a photo.

(It was a pretty crap photo anyway.)

Richard Carter

A fat, bearded chap with a Charles Darwin fixation.

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