My birthday is the day before Christmas.

I don’t usually get one big present but rather small ones two days in a row.

Here’s a photo of what my eldest son gave me for my birthday this year.

An old Quality Street tin.

You’d be excused for thinking I’d be miffed but I was actually delighted. In addition to the nostalgia trip the tin provided it added to my collection of old tins, which I mentioned a few years ago.

And he did fill it:-

He also gave me the latest Pink Floyd CD. (I’m not into downloads.)

For reasons to do with the Calvinist traditions of Scottish Presbyterianism Scotland’s national day of celebration actually covers two days, Hogmanay and New Year’s Day. (Christmas could not be celebrated riotously due to its religious nature, besides it was tainted with Catholicism.) Everyone, though, needs a blow out at the depth of winter to rejoice at coming through so far and look forward to the turning into light.

Today, however, is your other national day, if you’re Scottish.

It marks the birthday of Robert Burns, Scotland’s most renowned poet, lauded worldwide – most notably in the US and Russia.

Though the tradition may be dying out a little there will still be hundreds of Burns’ Suppers taking place around the world today, and in the days around, in his memory.

I shall not be addressing the “great chieftain o’ the puddin’ race,” nor toasting the lassies (only the good lady will be present,) nor even proposing the immortal memory, but I will be supping on haggis, neeps and tatties tonight.

Burns’s contribution to Scottish letters and culture lies not only in his own verses but in the collection of traditional songs which he sometimes revised or adapted. Without him many of these might have been lost.

He may have treated the women in his life badly, or off-handedly, but there is a concern for common humanity, and indeed for animals, in evidence in his work.

This is Is There For Honest Poverty (A Man’s A Man For A’ That) sung by Ian Benzie.

A Man’s A Man For A’ That

A couple of supermarkets – Morrisons and, I think, Sainsbury’s – I visited between Christmas and the New Year had signs up saying, “Happy Hogmanay.”

Happy Hogmanay?

No-one ever says that.*

My local Tesco made a better fist of it. Their sign – above the alcholic drinks isle, natch – said, “Celebrate Hogmanay,” which is more like it. But even then drink isn’t usually taken till after the bells, by which time Hogmanay is past.

So, now it’s here.

Happy New Year.

* Edited to add: except, oddly, Catriona Shearer and Craig Hill on Scotland’s Hogmanay Live last night.

(What it says on the tin.)

Reindeer, yes. Lappland, where Father Christmas is said to live, is famous for them.

Polar bears, yes. Also Arctic creatures.

I’d give you elves at a pinch, as they’re as mythic (oops, spoiler) as Santa Claus himself.

But penguins?

No. They are generally southern hemisphere animals; most often associated with the Antarctic.

So why are there illuminated penguins for sale as Christmas decorations and cluttering up the gardens of those who like that sort of thing at this time of year?

Just because they’re normally found in a cold climate doesn’t mean they’re anything to do with others who live in similar conditions. (Not to mention anything that might have happened about 2,000 years ago.) In fact they’re a whole world away.

Penguins at Christmas?

Bah humbug!

Yesterday on my way to work, queued up in traffic, I happened to glance in a window. There was a Christmas tree in it. It was 8.45 so no lights on but still…. it was a Christmas tree.

I know the shops do up their windows and displays but that’s to drum up business. Plus they mostly have the decency to wait till Hallowee’en and Guy Fawkes Night are over. But a domestic Christma tree?

It’s only November – not even past St Andrew’s Day. It’s enough to bring out the Scrooge in anybody.

Well Christmas has been and gone, and my birthday just before it.

We had both boys, plus the younger’s girlfriend, with us for a few days. A nice family time. Among other things as presents I got a few more tins for the collection; mainly containing biscuits.

Yesterday I was van driving again, the road and the miles to Dundee. Not to mention humphing furniture flat packs up two flights of stairs at the other end.

I can barely move today.

So there’s not been much time for posting.

There has also been a full scale thaw.

This partly breaks the rules I set myself for this category in that I’ve already featured Tull.

But it’s that time of year isn’t it?

It’s also by way of responding to Big Rab’s comment on my festive posting last year – Tull’s 1970s seasonal opus Ring Out Solstice Bells.

Jethro Tull: Christmas Song. Original version: a single in 1968.

“Hey. Santa. Pass us that bottle, will ya?”