My post-Christmas blog last year was rather melancholy – reluctantly waving goodbyes to my children and hauling down the decs the moment they were gone. I expected to feel the same this year and had been strategising some midwinter cheer for myself. However, this year I don’t feel so wistful and gloomy.
After three disrupted
Christmases I was expecting Covid, flu, snow or strikes to scupper our modest
domestic plans once more, but somehow they didn’t. The fact is, Pascoe, Perran
and Carenza all arrived and at last we spent Christmas Day together and even
several days either side of the festival itself. Decorating the tree, roast dinner (veggie of
course!), muddy walks and parlour games all happened.
I know myself to have
been thoroughly Christmased, and the result is that I feel more buoyant, even despite
the annual festival of sheet washing after the offspring have gone. And best of all, the two none-work days after
New Year have allowed Nigel and I to get out and blow away the cobwebs.
In the low, slanting
sunlight I can already sense the days lengthening once more…
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