About Me

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I write well researched but readable historical and contemporary novels and some non-fiction. I live in a Scottish country cottage with my artist husband. I love gardening and I also collect the fascinating antique textiles that often find their way into my fiction. This blog is about all these things and more!

Wednesday, January 04, 2017

Twelfth Night Thoughts

Here's a last look at the Christmas decorations before they are taken down. It has to be before Twelfth Night because it's unlucky to leave them up any longer. We always have a real tree, always leave the decorations up for as long as possible because I love Christmas so much. I wished somebody a Happy New Year today and she said 'You'll be glad it's all over!'

Er ... no. I'm quite sad really. This Christmas was lovely: just the right balance between entertaining and relaxing.

Lots of good friends came round on Christmas Eve as they have been doing for a while now. We used to celebrate a traditional Polish Christmas Eve when my mum and dad were alive, with Polish food and carols. Our own Christmas Eve get together is, I suppose, the remnants of it, or the replacement for it, or what you will. This year, our son Charlie and I walked along to the old village kirk for the well attended and friendly midnight service - many young people come back for Christmas here, so there's always a small reunion of old school friends. After the carols and blessings, the minister waited outside to wish us all a 'happy Christmas' and then we walked home before Santa came.

Christmas Day was slow and casual. Three of us eating a good Christmas dinner followed by a visit to more friends just along the road, drinks, conversation, generations mixing happily together. And then after a few days of walks along the beach and several hilarious games of Scrabble, son departed to celebrate Hogmanay in the city, and we went off to a New Year's Eve party in the village.

Tomorrow, the decorations will be put away, including a few precious glass ornaments that once belonged to my parents, and may well have belonged to my grandparents before that.

And then it's back to work with a vengeance. Which is fine by me. Lots to write. It's not always easy. Sometimes it's weary, frustrating, intensive work. But it's all good and I wouldn't want to be doing anything else.

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