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.

A little taste of spring, here in the Scottish countryside.

The days are very short here in Scotland at this time of year, but we comfort ourselves with the thought that in another couple of weeks they'll start to get longer. And by the end of January, they'll be noticeably longer!

Which is not to say that I want to skip Christmas, because I love everything about it. Always have. But all the same, it's cheering when the spring bulbs start to come through.

This is an old terracotta pot of white, scented narcissus bulbs I planted earlier this year, and hid away on a cool, dark shelf at the back of my office. Now, it's downstairs and they're growing and greening up on such light as is available. There's a pot of hyacinths as well, although they're a little way behind.

With a bit of luck, they'll be flowering not long after the Christmas decorations are put away for another year. I don't buy forced hyacinths at Christmas time, but I do buy them soon afterwards, if I haven't had the foresight to grow my own. I love to clean up and then bring springtime into the house in the shape of bulbs and - quite soon, here in the west - bunches of snowdrops and catkins.

I much prefer February to November. In November things are still sliding. In February and even earlier, you can feel the whole garden and the countryside beyond drawing breath, getting ready for spring. My favourite time of year.

It may be even earlier than usual, this year, since, after a cold spell that drove all the outdoor bulbs back underground, it has been incredibly warm for a few days. 'A pretty decent Scottish summer temperature' as my husband remarked! I gather it's due to get colder again pretty soon. Maybe in time for Christmas.