So, here we are at the start of a new year, a new decade.
Christmas seems such a long time ago. Of course, everything came together in the end, as it always does (though the woodland themed centrepiece probably looked better in my head than it did on the table).
Oh boy, there was so much (too much for one person) to do in the lead up and, come Christmas night, after a run of late finishes and early starts, I was head thumpingly, unable to move exhausted, with joints aching, balance off kilter and looking more than a tad grey round the gills.
But it was worth it and never more so than when the littlest suddenly shouted mid Christmas dinner, 'Three cheers for Granny. Pip, pip...' .
The celebrations kicked off with an evening at the panto, we enjoyed the carol service at church on Christmas Eve and afterwards played a game of festive Scrabble, now a night before Christmas family tradition and something I really look forward to. (Competitive? Moi?) It didn't end well. Not only did I not reclaim the winner's crown, I came fourth. Last. Oh, the shame.
As in houses up and down the country, presents were exchanged and opened, meals prepared and eaten, snacks devoured, bottles of the fizzy stuff quaffed, a gingerbread house demolished, telly watched (this, this and this ). We had dinner at a favourite restaurant and there was a party one night to celebrate my cousin and her husband's special anniversary (I was one of the bridesmaids at the wedding all those years ago).
After the littlest and his parents returned home to Manchester on Boxing Day, me and the Boy enjoyed a late afternoon leg stretch along the beach (whilst the world and his wife and dog queued at the fish and chips hatch). The light was absolutely stunning.
Now, everything has been packed away, there's a pile of new books to get stuck into and I'm left wondering where all the mince pies went.
Actually, my jeans keep giving uncomfortable hints.
Wishing you all a happy and healthy 2020.