A couch, a bottle and an early night for me

Happy New Year! As is usual for the man and me, we tried hard to win the title for the Most Boring New Year Celebration in the World and we're looking pretty good for it.

No word back from the judges yet, but we're quietly confident. New Year's Eve consisted of writing this column, cleaning out the office and two trips to the dump, interspersed with a couple of dog walks and a session at the gym in a desperate attempt to mitigate against all that Christmas cheer.

We enjoyed a turkey dinner and a couple of good bottles of wine and I was safely tucked up in bed by 10.30pm, leaving the Irishman to see in the New Year with a glass of whiskey.

Frenetic excitement among strangers is not what we're after on New Year's Eve. You're either a New Year's person or you're not, and probably the reason why our relationship has lasted so long is that we're New Year's Eve compatible.

Imagine if your partner was one of those who insisted on a street party, inviting every passerby into the house to count down to midnight and sing Auld Lang Syne? Nightmare.

No, for us it's about enjoying one another's company and some good food and wine and relaxing at home. That's the tradition that we've established and it appears our tradition has strong links with ancient rituals. House cleaning is common in many cultures as a way of clearing any bad luck of the past year out with the dust. Feasting of course is de rigeur to celebrate New Year - and eating anything in the shape of a circle means you're guaranteed good fortune in the coming year.

So all those wild party animals who chowed down on a burger as they staggered home from their revelry are in for a great year.

Many cultures believe that if a tall handsome man is the first man to cross your threshold you're in for a good year; if the first person to do so is a red-haired woman, you're in for a volatile and a stressful year.

Personally, as the mother of a ginga, I see that as more prejudice against the fiery follicled amongst us, but hey. It can't hurt that the tall handsome Irishman was indeed the first person to step through the door and my beautiful red-haired daughter was crossing thresholds miles away in Melbourne, seeing in the New Year with her mates.

One tradition I discovered too late was the custom in the Philippines of children jumping up and down at midnight to make themselves taller. At 1.56m, I need all the help I can get, so I might try that one out next year - if I can stay up that late.

I won't be making any resolutions though. A recent survey found that of all those who set goals for the New Year, only 12 per cent achieved any of them. Setting yourself up to fail doesn't sound like a great way to begin any year - especially after the rigours of 2009.

However you spent your New Year I hope it was a fun and happy time for you and the very best wishes for a safe, fun and prosperous 2010.