It's that time again.

If I have readers from different cultures, forgive me. The UK is drowning in Christmas.

It's almost here. The shopping nearly done, the mince pies cooked, the tree laden with presents.

Newspapers, once full of articles on what to buy Auntie Nellie for Christmas are now laden with advice on how to survive twenty-four hours with your mother-in-law. (Note to sons-in-law - please don't park  me in the corner with a glass of sherry and the television). In a week or so we'll read about what to do with unwanted presents and how to lose all the weight you put on during the festivities.

Whatever the papers say, it will feel as if the world has stopped for a day or so. And so shall I - I'm taking a blog-break for a week or two. In my house there will be eating and drinking and merriment, and then a few days to recover and read by the fire. There are worse ways to celebrate.

This season means different things to different people. I hope you have time with those you love, and who love you. That you share food and games and laughter. And that that you stagger into the New Year with good intentions.

I'll be back ...