They know me so well

...my family.

What perfect presents I received for Christmas! Too many to mention - lucky me, but here are the highlights (in no particular order)

A 'Grow Your Own Anfield Pitch' from Jamie and Breanna, for Mum, the Liverpool supporter from childhood, with three sons and a husband who are not the slightest bit interested in football!

Nigel Slater's Kitchen Diaries II from Tim - for Mum the meal-preparer who idolises Nigel Slater and his food philosophy and covets his kitchen. (This book is FAR too beautiful to risk greasy fingerprints and getting splattered with food!)

A Little Miss Sunshine Wallet from Laurie and Irene, for Mum, who DOES try to spread sunshine and this made me smile until my cheeks ached.

 A beautiful hare print from David and Gilly, for me whose daemon is a hare.

This autobiography from Pete, for me, the writer who adores Jeanette Winterson and finds daily inspiration from her way of being.

And, of course, lots of horsey presents for me the horse-rider...

I feel so blessed and cherished and understood. So much THOUGHT went into these gifts.

“I know what I really want for Christmas."

"I want my childhood back. Nobody is going to give me that. I might give at least the memory of it to myself if I try."

"I know it doesn't make sense, but since when is Christmas about sense, anyway? It is about a child, of long ago and far away, and it is about the child of now. In you and me. Waiting behind the door of our hearts for something wonderful to happen. A child who is impractical, unrealistic, simpleminded and terribly vulnerable to joy.”

Robert Fulghum

and

Caroline Coxon

“Mistletoe," said Luna dreamily, pointing at a large clump of white berries placed almost over Harry's head.

He jumped out from under it. "Good thinking," said Luna seriously. "It's often infested with nargles.”

I won't insult you by telling you where that quote comes from...

All I will say is 'May your mistletoe not be infected with nargles!"

And my dream of a white Christmas is just that - a dream. Christmas here is mud coloured. I've just spent an hour washing Poppy's legs, drying them and coating them with Vaseline in the vain hope that the mud won't stick. Her Christmas treat.

A Caroline's weird thought association alert:

Possibly the crassest Christmas song in the ever ever.

Thoughts will lead you in circles.

Silence will bring you back to your centre.

Rasheed Ogunlaru, author of Soul Trader: Putting the Heart Back into Your Business, said this.

I need more silence in my life.

Except for the fact that when it's silent, I have more time to think and...

By Zorana

 thoughts will lead me in circles.

I just realised, though, that circular thoughts don't HAVE to be negative and destructive.

So silence doesn't have to be scary.

The perfect Christmas

 "We shall find peace"

"We shall hear angels."

 "We shall see the sky sparkling with diamonds.”

Thank you, Anton Chekov.

And today, shame about the horizontal rain, lashing wind and almost complete darkness when I was sorting out the horses at 7 a.m.

Not so perfect!

“He who has not Christmas in his heart will never find it under a tree. ”

...said Roy. L. Smith and for that thought, thanks. And you can substitute 'She' for the 'He'

by Dixie Allen

Rush, rush, hassle, hassle, stress, stress.

That's what the lead up to Christmas has become for me in the last few days.

Why, why, oh why? The meal to prepare is only like a Sunday lunch. The presents and cards are like a lot of lovely birthdays all rolled into one. It's a time to be thankful for friends and family...

SO - away with all the silliness.

Here's my favourite carol:

Tomorrow shall be my dancing day.

Only, I'm going to make it today.

“If you always do what interests you, at least one person is pleased.”

So said Katharine Hepburn. (Beautiful lady.)

It's a risky strategy, as a writer, possibly. My personal taste is a little quirky - no, let me rephrase that - a LOT quirky - so I'm pretty much bound to alienate huge swathes of the general population with my work if I write to please myself. Which means my work may never get published...or be appealing film-wise.

Writing to please other people? Can be soul-destroying. Feels like a sell-out. But perhaps gives you (me?) (one?) a better chance of success?

Filth, as a script, is fairly quirky. Lots of people don't get it. I begin to conclude that I'm WAAAAY too subtle and obscure...

So - yesterday, the director came down from London with the first rough cut. Me - excited but anxious in case I didn't like what he'd done...

It was good! As I imagined it, for the most part. Some bits made me laugh out loud. (It's a black comedy)

And the director asked for another script of mine.

So, at least TWO people are pleased by me doing what interests me!