Since 'Mudge, Jeri and I had a quiet lobster dinner the night before (with my pickled herring in sour cream for dessert) and Tom and I, at least, were asleep by 10:30, we did our partying on New Year's Day at the farm of a displaced Mississippian here in the heart of Yankee land. Bluegrass and O'Carolan and a bit of other music. Country ham, hog hocks, black eyed peas, etcet, etcet, but I'm pleased to say somebody (not me, either!) brought the herring. Gotta have herring.

Linn