Sometimes life sucks. But sometimes it goes beyond good or great or even brilliant. Things are fine. Fine as in a fine painting or a fine wine, something of rare beauty, excellence or quality. And there have been some fine things this Christmas…

• Carols at Kings College, Cambridge
• Veuve Clicquot Ponsardin
• Family time, period
• Health – the fact that right now all of us are generally in pretty good health
• London in the run up to Christmas… it’s really at its best
• Worshiping in a 1000 year old church
  
• The joy small children bring – whether it’s Poppy’s first glimpse of a new bike or Barty going from big tears to big smiles in about 10 seconds
• My new Russell and Bromley slippers!
• Crisp English winter air
• The bottle of Fortnum and Mason Claret I was given today
• My friends, cowriters and business associates
• Our traditional Christmas dinner… that organic turkey will be with us in one form or another for at least the next two months
• The glorious sunset I managed to catch yesterday
• Being in a safe place... I know what life is like without that
  

And there are a hundred other things.

Last night – Christmas night – Sandra and I had some together-time to open our presents. I suddenly thought how old I must look – sipping champagne with the lights turned down in front of a log fire and hundreds of twinkling fairy lights. I was thrilled with my presents - a new pair of slippers, books about psychology, the English language, business coaching and creativity, and other stuff. Maybe it’s because I’m not so young anymore? But it’s the way I enjoyed doing Christmas even when we were first married.

When we do things the same way for a while it’s easy to take things for granted. So I thank God that sometimes I’m still able to see things fresh and  notice just how blessed I am to be living here, by the sea, in this house, in this little village in December 2007 with the networks and opportunities I have before me. To notice how fine he has made things.

S.

It’s less than an hour to go before another Christmas day is upon us. I remember blogging this time last year… it was one of my favourite moments of 2006… I’ve similar feelings right now.

I’m snug in the drawing room by a log fire that’s on its way down, tree lights are randomly flickering, outside the sea is roaring despite there being just a little breeze, presents are bought, wrapped and put in neat piles under the tree, the turkey is prepared and on timer, stockings are filled and Father Christmas has eaten his minced pie and drunk his small glass of Madeira.

In a mo I’m off to midnight mass at our village church. We all enjoyed the crib service this afternoon. Poppy played a sunbeam. Moo refused his role of shepherd but cheered up as the service progressed.

The children are beside themselves with excitement about tomorrow. And I’m pretty pumped. Should be a great day. 

If I don’t get to this after I get back Happy Christmas everyone. Hope you have a wonderful one.

S.

Mum & Dad picking up presents for my brother’s family
Last minute shopping with Poppy and Moo
Christmas lights on in the High Street
Carol singers (how come they’ve found the time?)
Eggnog latte at Starbucks
Crisp morning air
Fresh turkey arrives
Friends popping in for coffee on their way to a family party
Satsumas, satumas and more satsumas before the shops run out
Non-stop carols on Classic-FM
Stuffing mix with extra chestnuts
Making the cranberry and bread sauces for tomorrow
Chocolates dangling on the tree – still there!
Barty in his red and white furry outfit
Afternoon Crib service at our village church
Candles, smells and bells
Gosh, the children haven’t made their cards for Mummy yet
Three little stockings by the playroom fire
Milk and a biscuit (cookie) in the dark
Christmas TV for the children after bathtime
Nativity story in bed and thanksgiving prayers
The house filled with Pheasant cooking in Madeira
Boozy Christmas cake ice cream
Fridge about to explode
Wrapping Sandra’s last few presents
Tree lights stay on for the night flicker flicker

S.

It was another day up in London today, this time with the whole family. About 6 months ago Sandra booked tickets for her and Poppy to see the English National Ballet production of Nutcracker which, in theory, should have been the most wonderful day out. And I think it was for them. But because Barts is so under the weather it seemed right that the rest of us went up and the boys do something ‘boysey’ like go to the London Eye. So instead of the train for two it was the car for five.

There was a ‘Griswald’ feel about the day from the second I woke up half an hour late. By the time we got there an hour and a half later than planned, parked the car near Trafalgar Square, settled down for lunch at the National Gallery Restaurant it was already feeling like a mistake. And when Barty threwn up his entire meal over me I KNEW it was a mistake.

There’s something about ‘that’ smell that never seems to go away. Even after rinsing my clothes out in the disabled loo, even after an Eggnog Latte (which I thought was close enough that the offensive element of the sick smell that it might quantize into something more acceptable). But it just wouldn’t shift. So it was my destiny to walk the streets of London, jump into taxis and go onto the London Eye with people politely moving away. And in a pod on the London Eye there’s not a lot of distance you can put between yourself and your fellow passengers. But as I kept Monty pretty close to me most of the time I think most of them assumed the weak tummy would be his and therefore the cause of the nauseating aroma.

We got home at about 8 this evening and I headed straight for the washing machine, stripped down and ran a bath. And it felt like it was the first time this CENTURY I was clean.

But the girls LOVED the ballet. And the National Gallery. And I must admit, even as I was going around the gallery with my aromatic forcefield, it was a joy to see all those paintings in one place. And watching Poppy’s response to it all made it all worth while.

S.

Just filled the car up with gas before turning in for the night. Off to London tomorrow morning... the alarm is set for 5.40. It’s a frosty night – most of the cars out there are wearing a winter frozen blanket – my car says it’s just above freezing but it dipped below once or twice. 

I’m finally beginning to feel Christmassy. Today I finshed my last piece of work before the holidays. Tomorrow I've my last Christmas party for the season. My fourth. So I guess it’s about time I felt Chrismassy. I’ve done most of my shopping now. The children have broken up from school and are spending days chilling out at home, watching Christmas DVDs and making seasonal treats, icing the cake, honeycomb sweets to give away. The last bit of internet shopping has been done. The last card posted.

Somehow this seems the best part of Christmas… everything to look forward to and most of the preparation done. For the first time we’ll have three little stockings hanging by the playroom fireplace. Poppy and Moo are at a golden age for this kind of thing. This could possibly be the best one ever.

If Santa could grant me anything I think it might be to have a magic ticket to come back here again and again. And one for last year...

S. 

Just love this. You'll need to register but it's worth it.

S.

Read this in a book today...

We don't see things as they are, but rather as we are.

Hmmm.

S.

Today is Poppy’s birthday. Can’t believe she’s so grown up, tall and so articulate.

This morning our trainee nanny arrived early. Conversation went like this:

Nanny: I made it over really quick this morning didn't I
Poppy: No, it’s quickly not quick
Nanny: Oh, ok.

Think she might be a lawyer when she grows up.

S.

London was at it’s best last night: Christmas lights twinkling in the crisp night air, people rushing around doing their Christmas shopping, the office party season well and truly underway. I walked through Victoria station and there was a Salvation Army brass band playing traditional carols and people were singing along.

As I dashed for the 19.05 Southern train to Bognor Regis two minutes after it was supposed to have left it really did feel like it had been snowing Christmas good cheer and I had carried a little dust with me on my shoes.

S.

I'm home. 33 hours traveling. I think that's my record. OK, it was via meetings in London. So maybe I'm cheating. But it's soooooo goooooood tooooo beeeee hooooommmmeeeee!

S.

I boarded the plane to Charlotte and after finishing series 3 of Grey’s Anatomy I picked up SkyMall. The last time I touched a SkyMall mag was a few years ago when I honestly thought it was a joke. But they still appear in the pocket next to the sick bag and the lady sitting next to me on the flight over was thumbing through it so enthusiastically I thought I might be missing something. So I started thumbing through myself.

SkyMall makes me laugh. I don’t know if it’s because I’m British but it’s like they take a perfectly good product and change an essential design element to render it completely useless. Or maybe they are the products that were made before the proper version arrives on the shelves of WallMart? Either way they still have a comic feel to them.

Take the 'CatGenie'. This is basically an electric toilet. I can totally see the benefit of hands-free cat box care. But surely if you could convince your cat to jump into an electric toilet you could convince it to 'do it' in one that's less likely to take one of its 9 lives?

Or take 'Animated Hitch Critters'. Tho I would rather give my money to the poor and needy, maybe, oh just maybe it could be desirable to have a personalised hitch cover. But think. What would it say about you if you had a moving animal speared to the back of your car? Moreover, how would I stop my children from screaming with terror if they saw a wounded beast writhing on the back of your Ford Mondeo in front? If I were ever given one by my old American aunt Betsy, sporting it on the roads of West Sussex would probably get me banned from the school run (tho' that would be worth paying for).

Well they go on and on, page after page. They just don't work for me. I agree with SkyMall's buzz line: ‘going beyond the ordinary’. But maybe the 'Sky' bit of the name refers to the products being dreamed up by someone who landed too near lunar gravity.

S.

Sorry for the radio silence this trip... there's a story behind it.

We had sweet Barty’s Christening last Sunday… a lovely celebration in a 1000-year old village church with 50 close friends and family. Everything turned out great, except

• Our English weather gave us her worst wind and rain combo for the year
• Our elderly caterer gave me food poisoning
  

So, as I jetted over the Atlantic on Monday, I found myself feeling increasingly unwell and by the time I got off the plane at Nashville I had the shakes, squits, hot and cold sweats and just enough energy to crawl into bed and die.

After about 10 hours sleep I felt better but after two cowrites each day it was tricky getting to this. On the bright side I'll be flying home lighter than when I arrived, which doesn't normally happen to me when I come to America.

Still, the writing this trip has been great - inspiring, stretching and fun. I’m spending a free Saturday here Christmas shopping but I feel like I’ve had a bunch of my presents already… 9 cool new songs turned in, the craft has moved on again, some more artist writing (a new skill set), getting to see the musical Sue and I wrote in hard copy, the chance to hang with so many friends here, the BBMP Christmas party, catching up with a course I’m taking at FBC and getting to see Ronnie and Cindy do their Christmas anthem ‘Ring the Bells’ live.

Tomorrow I fly back in time for a board meeting in London before finally getting home at around midnight on Monday. Can’t wait to be back home with the family.

Thanks to my cowriters for this trip – I really enjoyed each one. I never take for granted all this. Really.

So, I wonder if we’ve paid that caterer yet?

S.

I’ve a hundred million things I NEED to DO between now and flying to Nashville on Monday. I asked Sandra for her advice. She suggested I lower my expectations. And of course she’s right. After all, when have I ever thought “golly, how clever I am, I seem to have got so ahead of myself”. Never.

I always have to make time... time is never made for me. And my todo list is not really a list, it’s a waterfall of critical, fun, fascinating, wonderful and boring stuff that just keeps coming at me. The river will continue to flow long after my heart stops beating. That’s just life.

So instead of dealing with the DO part I’m going to deal with the NEED part: I’m putting a line through the stuff my body is telling me it has no energy for.

There, that was easy. It's half past midnight. Think I’ll go to bed now.

S.