A low-key New Year’s celebration, as usual. Salmon stew with cream and saffron for dinner. (With kohlrabi instead of fennel because, shockingly, the supermarket was all out of fresh fennel.) And an experimental dessert, which tasted absolutely delicious, even though parts of the recipe didn’t work out as expected. (ICA’s whipped panna cotta with marinated raspberries and an oat crunch.)

Ingrid went off after dinner to celebrate with her friends, and my mum also left before midnight in order to drive home safely before the promised snow storm. With just Eric, Adrian and myself, the mood wasn’t quite as celebratory. We watched Pulp Fiction – Adrian has been interested in older movies recently – and that was that.

The snow storm wasn’t too bad around midnight, but visibility was crap. We didn’t bother going up on the roof, which we normally do for the great views, because there wouldn’t be any views anyway. Instead we walked to a nearby football field, hoping that people around it might use it to fire off their fireworks. A few did. But a lot of the time we could hear the cracks and booms but not see anything through the snow and the low-hanging clouds. It was like there were invisible ghost fireworks all around us.

We have a New Year’s tradition of watching fireworks from the flat roof of the newer half of our house. Twenty minutes before midnight it’s time to bring out the big ladder and then we take turns to climb up to the roof.

The roof is wide and flat – there’s plenty of space to walk around to get good views in all directions, without ever having to worry about getting too close to the edge.

There’s always plenty of fireworks to look at, near and far. Usually quite a lot quite near, even.

For the first time ever, Ingrid opted to go celebrate New Year’s Eve with her friends. Growing up! So we had to wish her a happy new year by text.

At midnight on New Year’s Eve, we’re always up on the roof. The shoebox of an extension is still a bit of an eyesore and I wish it fit in with the old half of the house, but its flat roof is awesome for viewing fireworks.

Today, like every New Year’s Eve, we pulled out the big ladder and the whole family climbed up to spectate the fireworks all around us. We see everything the neighbours fire off, and the more distant neighbours, and people in nearby sports fields and school yards and other open areas, and even all the way to what I guess is Kista or something like that. Just after midnight the whole horizon is lit up.

This year for the first time I remembered to bring my camera, but I did not remember to read up on how to photograph fireworks, so the results are so-so. But they do bring back some of what it felt like to be there.

Whiling away the hours until midnight and the new year. The rest of the celebrations isn’t important to me but I do love fireworks so I stay awake.

We have a great spot for watching fireworks – on the roof of our extension. It’s flat, relatively easy to reach with a ladder and high enough to be above most of the trees and other houses nearby. We get great views in three directions, so we see all the neighbourhood fireworks as well as bigger ones all the way to Kista.

Myself and my mum, cooking a New Year’s Eve dinner. Ingrid took the photo.

Bruschetta with smashed avocados and cherry tomatoes; spinach and ricotta cannelloni with tomato sauce and bechamel sauce; chocolate and blood orange semifreddo.

Too busy unpacking, shopping, cooking and entertaining to have any time left for spending on photography.