Santa is missing

Think Father Christmas is down the chimney, leaving Rudolph and sleigh waiting patiently.

Christmas jumpers gone mad

Have you noticed jumpers of a certain kind are big this Christmas? I myself have resisted. It does make you wonder what starts a trend and makes everyone decide they need to buy a Christmas jumper? Is it something in the water?

Merry Christmas and a new pair of eyes please

Apparently David and I have reached that certain age. Do you remember when your mum and dad started to place things which had very teeny tiny writing a long way away from their eyes and then would bring the writing in and out to try to focus in order to read it and you would look at them as if they were mad? Yes? Well we've reached that age.

We decided to treat ourselves to some sherry for Christmas (perhaps another sign we have reached a certain age) but trying to read the labels of the various types available proved quite troublesome. Take the bottle label out. Bring it back in. Look up for better light. In, out, in, out. Let's just get this one and hope for the best.

I should have known when the optician a few months ago told me I had reached that age in eyes when it all starts going down hill. She didn't say that in so many words but that's what she meant.

Oh well there's always the sherry.

Merry Christmas to my small band of, I hope, happy readers. Get in touch more in 2014.

Flippy floppy duvet

It happened again last night. I get into bed. I get all cosy and then realise I have a flappy floppy bit of duvet. You know what I mean. The bit of your duvet cover that isn't filled with lovely soft voluptuous duvet. It's a void and it's really difficult to refill it without going to a lot of trouble.

I usually get it at the side of the duvet; my daughter had it at the top of the duvet the other evening. It's annoying.

You either have to do a lot of shaking of said duvet or get your hand right in there to pull the duvet into the empty space. And it's amazing how you can leave a lovely cosy bed in the morning and then by the evening flippy floppy syndrome has struck seemingly out of nowhere. Be gone with you flappy duvet cover bits.

A big branch painted white with fairy lights wrapped round

Have you noticed how the trend this Christmas is for white painted trees with embedded lights that look very much like a big branch painted white with fairy lights wrapped round but cost a shed load of money? The good ones look very tasteful and I was tempted for 5 minutes before I did indeed realise they are just big synthetic branches painted white with lights wrapped round. So I have rescued a big branch from a tree that next door was having pruned and have spray-painted it white and wrapped lights round. Boom boom. It looks fantastically festive to say it's just a big branch painted white with lights wrapped round. A very big and wonderful British department store eat your heart out.

I'll answer to anything

My son and daughter got a hand-delivered Christmas card from a neighbour's little boy this afternoon. He is in the school year between my two. The little love got my son's name right if spelt slightly wrongly but had rechristened my daughter completely. She will from henceforth be known as her new moniker of Ella. Bless!

I had to giggle as we've all been there. I have a few friends who I haven't seen in years. Thus far I always remember their names on the Christmas card but often struggle with their partner's name or their children's. No doubt I have made a boo-boo in years past or perhaps every year.

My friend told me how she always sends a card to her neighbour called Graham. She has sent one for 6 years to him and his family. This December she found out his name is Paul. She was mortified and apologised profusely. Graham's Paul's family has found this hilarious for 6 years and has insisted she continues to call him Graham. It has become a Christmas tradition to wait for the Christmas card for Graham.

Would she come?

When I was little my auntie and uncle would take me to Harry Ramsden's Fish and Chip Restaurant (the original one at Guiseley before it got all commercial and lost its appeal). They would have a huge and sparkly tree with loads of presents underneath.

We would queue and be shown to our table. We would order and eat but all the time I was watching the tree and I was watching the supervisor. She would come up to tables that had children and invite them to come to the tree to chose a present. It was so exciting. I can feel the anticipation even now. I would spend the whole meal wondering when she would come to our table. I couldn't go to the loo - she may have come while I was there. Would she remember me?

"When is she coming?" "Has she forgotten me?" "Will there be any presents left?" - all questions addressed to my auntie.

Of course she would always invite me to the tree. It was fab. Fish n chips and mushy peas and a pressie.