Ten thirty pm: Tod takes his broken shoulder off to bed early.
Eleven pm: I walk the dogs down to the stream in drizzly rain in the dark. A few distant pops and bangs and flashes of red and blue come from one of the houses high on the ridge behind us. They're starting celebrations early.
Eleven thirty pm: The dogs take themselves off to bed and I start to watch a silly Goldie Hawn movie with a glass of something slightly sweet from a bottle that's been opened in the fridge for ages - seems ok.
Midnight: Bertie starts barking on the landing at more distant bangs. I hush him not to disturb Tod. I wonder about waiting to see London's firework display on TV at one o'clock, but decide not to bother.
One am: Bertie is up and barking again - yet more distant bangs and crashes - perhaps our neighbours are celebrating a British New Year? Tod briefly wakes for a New Year kiss and sleepily asks what time it is.
One thirty am: Most of us are asleep.
May 2012 be peaceful and happy for all of us. May our fears be unfounded and our hopes be fulfilled.
London Fireworks: from BBC