A new year! For the greater world events I tremble, but for our own personal life I am fizzy with anticipation. We have a new baby to welcome in March, and trips pencilled in for the months ahead. John and I have just come back from the local café where we had our traditional ‘annual business meeting’ (!) So much more focussed than at home. We had the diaries and the possible journeys, and now we have plans!  Still lots of empty months in which to be spontaneous, but I am looking forward to Russia in September. We also plan doing the Great Glen Way walk from Fort William to Inverness, and an island hopping trip to the Outer Hebrides.

We had a double Christmas this year. First with Gerry and Cathal and baby Darcey before they took off for Ireland,

and then we had a wonderful week in Wales. We watched Bonnie make her debut on the Cardiff stage, in her pink ballet clothes,

then watched her delight at the musical of Mary Poppins.

Natasha and I were vaguely disappointed as we are so used to Julie Andrews, until we read the programme. The writer P.L. Travers hated what Disney did to her story and wanted a truer adaptation of her book when transferred to the stage. It was pretty spectacular and the songs and dancing were excellent.

On Christmas day Bonnie gave out the presents under the tree, like a little pixie, and watched as her dad opened his and John then me, until finally Natasha offered her one. She looked at her mum, and said, ‘For me? Can I open it?’ It was so innocent, and so poignant.

We walked along cliffs and muddy fields, ate and drank, and with a heavy heart we returned to Edinburgh.

On Hogmanay we danced to a Rod Stewart look-alike, and I felt an ache in my hip. Is this a sign of things to come? Another year older, which bit might let me down? But all is well now, so unless I get an offer for the chorus of Mary Poppins I think I will be fine.

Gerry celebrated her birthday, and little Darcey turns one on Sunday, how the years are flying.

I made lobster thermidor for the special birthday dinner, and John helped me crack the claws on the sea wall. The sky was blue and the sea like glass, it looked like he was living the dream! (he is).

We did drink fizzy wine and ate lobster sandwiches whilst watching the New Year’s performance of Handel’s Messiah at the Usher Hall in Edinburgh. Maybe the wine had gone to my head, but I so related to the timpani player as he rested his head on his drums at frequent intervals. He looked either sick or hung-over! Luckily we didn’t lurch over the folk in front as we stood for the Hallelujah chorus. Could blame the dodgy hip!

Now the driving and visiting is over for a while. We called into a rather nice antique shop the other day and I bought a glorious Liberty scarf which will just set off a black jumper or coat (which I have a wardrobe full of).  I am also craving snow, the crispness and whiteness and the glamour. Instead we have been having clear sunny days with the promise of clouds and rain. I am prepared, I have made the soup, and the freezer has plenty to sustain us; I have three books piled up to read, and knitting, loads and loads of knitting. I am the perfect cliché, the wee granny in my wee house.

But this is the time for aspiring to greater things. As much as I love the domestic hobbies, I crave sometimes for a good talk, an educated lecture, learning. I remember a Finnish friend once said after being in church, ‘that was good, I enjoyed his talk, his dissertation on Lydia – the seller of purple. I didn’t know that before.’ I plan to look into Edinburgh University’s adult classes. Maybe this will be the year I finally make a study of the poetry of John Donne. I have been meaning to do it for years and have all the books. We shall see. Maybe this will be the year I finish writing that book that has been lurking in my head and that I re-started with such enthusiasm last year.

Who knows? It’s all ahead, like a field of untrodden snow.

Whatever, I am enthusiastic, and filled with good intentions and will part with another well used cliché, CARPE DIEM.