So, how's YOUR hangover?

This was the exact moment when the clock struck midnight in our house, heralding the start of a brand new decade.

We were very pleased to share the evening with our friends Ewen, Gillian, Simon and Layla. (Wee John was there too, but there's nothing particularly noteworthy about that given he's had his own name plate on the door of our spare room for more than a year now).

Rather than having a simple drink fest (which was what it inevitably descended into long before Big Ben appeared on the telly), we decided to inject something of a cultural aspect into the evening by hosting a murder mystery party.

From left to right, Simon, Ewen, Gillian and Layla arrived looking very much their respective parts.

And so too did Vanessa, with a paper doily perched atop her head in an attempt to look like a maid. Wee John, sitting beside her, looked like he'd just arrived in from work. Which he had.

As for me, well, it's not for me to say. But I don't believe I look in the least bit camp, if that's what you're insinuating.

Vanessa turned out to be the evil murderer in the end which was not a surprise to any of us. This was not because any of us were particularly astute sleuths. It was more as a result of Vanessa mistakenly putting on the last part of the DVD two stages early, thereby allowing Hercule Poirot to tell us it was her - yet further proof that women should NEVER be in charge of the telly.

And then the party started...

...and continued...

...New Year came....

...so the party continued...

and then everyone went home (apart from Wee John who's inevitably here for another three days).

Happy New Year to you from the Whites (and Wee John).