A blockboard star and a camel and a fort:

Three cardinals and the greatest story ever told.

A broken camera-phone and a struggling car.

the usual chaos and crisis management

the budget festivities and the carefully executed control of expectations;

the postcard winter landscapes and scuppered family travel-plans;

the boiler that’s packed up with 2 days to go

heart-warming offerings;

someone’s discarded sample bottle asleep on the snow

and an arguing couple in a supermarket car-park – “Why did ya jump out the fookin’ window, ya spaz?!” she cries

the surprising animal ejaculations through a wall at teatime

the scratching of a kitchen visitor in the dead of night.

The lingering shadows of various 2010 disappointments

and the spectre of more ahead…

and the memories of many fantastic moments

from a mad, troubled, crazy, beautiful, adventurous, carefree and at times will-sapping year of extremes.

There is a tired face in the mirror, telling me I need to finish this chapter. Let go.

… then I stumble across it on ITV3. I’m trying to remember the sequence of events but it’s been years. I’m shocked by the revelation of defendant Tom’s shooting and I’m on the edge of my seat when the children of Atticus Finch are stopped, attacked, then saved in the woods. I know I’m gonna crack… and sure enough when Boo appears behind the door and the little girl says his name…. I crumple, just like every time.

There’s a flood. And the Festive TV has barely started.

Merry Christmas everyone. Merry Christmas xxx