Don't you love it when a plan comes to fruition?
We'd hoped and prepared for a family gathering and, lo and behold, the six of us actually managed to join together for a few days to celebrate Christmas.
Despite the ongoing challenges here and, I'd have to admit, low expectations, the traditional schedule was smoothly (so smoothly I was convinced I'd forgotten to do something crucial) followed and it all proved to be highly enjoyable.
And highly calorific. I had to keep my apron on the whole of Christmas Day as, by the evening, I'd indulged so much (I ate most of the box of these and refilled my plate far too many times from the suppertime buffet) the zip on my trousers refused to fasten.
On Christmas Eve, with the youngest of the group finally fast asleep, I reclaimed the Scrabble crown (it was actually a medal) after too many years of coming fourth (aka last). I know it's wrong to blow your own trumpet but I was ON FIRE!
The now 6 year old littlest was his usual entertaining self throughout, keeping us on our toes, delivering his verdict on every aspect of the festivities ('Granny, that soup looks like sick'), challenging each of us to games of darts and table football and Silly Sausage.
After he and his parents returned home to Manchester on Boxing Day, the Boy (he stayed here a week) and I played several rounds of Exploding Kittens (I was well and truly trounced) and managed to squeeze in a night walk along the beach and an afternoon stroll through the woods, both short but good for blowing away a cobweb or two. We also managed a trip to the recycling centre, the first of many, hopefully, but that's part of another plan.
Many gifts were exchanged (mine included tickets to see this and enjoy a meal here) and all were seemingly well received. Well, I haven't been asked for any receipts.
Now, the cake, mince pies and Boy-made gingerbread house (those windows!) have all been demolished, decorations have been packed away, the tree is on the drive awaiting collection, the sizeable chocolate stack has been stored in the cupboard, there's a pile of new reads to dip into and Christmas 2021 has been locked in the memory bank alongside all the ones from preceding years.
I'm feeling surprisingly optimistic about the new year, determined to enjoy, to savour, to appreciate, to accept as I navigate a way through what I know will be an increasingly testing situation. There'll be no making of resolutions or setting a guiding word for the year, more a sense of reassessing, I think. For starters, yoga and meditation used to be such a big part of my life and now they're not. I intend to change that.
And on that note I wish all of you lovely people in my laptop a happy and healthy 2022. Your visits, comments and emails are so very much appreciated.