We had the longest night on Tuesday 22nd, so from then on the hours of daylight grow longer. Yay! When it grows dark outside round about four o’clock my body shuts down and I get so little done compared with high summer when I am off out for a stroll along the Sea Front at seven or eight in the evening. Am I ready for Christmas? Of course not! Despite all my good resolutions the festive season sneaks up on me unawares every year and I have to rush around at the last minute posting cards and buying presents. I blame the commercialisation of the event. Tired of seeing Christmas promotions in every shop from Hallowe’en onwards, I just ignore visual displays and blank out Xmas music. But I have managed to bake two batches of mince pies . . .

What does Christmas mean to me? It means “family”. For an ideal Christmas I should love to be able to hire a hotel somewhere warm to accommodate my entire family. No. Maybe not – could be a bit overwhelming? For my ideal Christmas I should like to retreat to a cosy cottage with long walks in pine forests followed by mulled wine around the fire. Mmm! Could be a bit dull? For my ideal Christmas I should like to – Mm! Do what I always do, I think. Join the family and revel in the fact that I do not have to cook Christmas dinner. Note to self: must remember to pack my rubber gloves so that I can help wash up afterwards – just a small thank you.

Of course the family has Christmas traditions, apart from the turkey and the ham. We did try goose one year but that proved to be a dismal failure. The hardier members of the family will venture down to the local open-air swimming pool on Christmas morning. Hurrying from the Changing Room to pool is positively freezing but the water is heated and welcoming. The best part is the bacon sandwich and mulled wine in the cafe afterwards. The worst is trying to get my hair dry while someone downstairs is shouting, “Come on! Come on! We’re waiting to open our presents.”

A couple of days after Christmas there will be the party for the extended family. It is a relaxed gathering as people gather, exchange gifts and sip a hot cuppa as they catch up on a year’s news. Beside food we have games for which we divide into teams. I tried to wriggle out of the “freely bag” game this year but was told firmly by my grandson that I couldn’t. The game is part of Christmas. About eight years ago I stitched four sets of twenty small numbered bags. I insert the same twenty mystery objects in each set of bags, stitching the openings to close them. The object of the game is to guess what the objects are. So far I have collected half a dozen new mystery objects and am off to the supermarket to look for some more.

Disaster! Can’t fine the empty feely bags and there is not time to sew another set. Have to catch my train in sixty minutes so sadly, no feely bag game this Christmas after all.

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