New Years Eve was always a big family gathering.

My father's brothers in law were all bell ringers and before midnight would depart to ring in the New Year, the rest of us would gather around the old piano and sing songs - anything from traditional folk to music hall and 'hit parade'.

First footing was a must. Out of the back door carrying salt and coal and then people would spill onto the street as the bells pealed to let their dark haired 'visitors in again.

One of the most magical Christmasses I remember was spent with friends on a small (3miles x 1mile) island of the SW coast of Ireland.
At dusk a candle was lit in every window (whether Christian or no) to guide the Christ child across the water.
We walked across the centuries old mass track above the whole twinkling island to attend Midnight Mass in Irish and then on st Stephen's Day anyone fit enough to walk whatever their age came to a communal ceilidh by the harbour usually carrying food and heaters!
A 'tour of houses' on the previous day had amassed a 'collection' of whatever people could afford to provide copious liquid refreshment!