31st December, Winter Garden

It's the last day of 2014. This morning the garden was white with frost. When I opened the back door four wood pigeons, which had been pecking seeds spilled onto the ground, flew away their wings flapping. The grass crunched underfoot as I walked across it to top up the bird feeder. The resident robin flew to a branch and as soon as I left fed from the ground, but I didn't see any other birds. The ice on my small pond was too thick to break so I poured hot water onto it so the birds could drink. Little writing done this morning but I shopped for groceries and came home in time to put them away and have lunch.

Medieval Novel, Monday's Child, Lunch.

Am now very pleased because I have written the penultimate chapter of Monday's Child a traditional Regency Romance with a twist in the tale, a follow on novel from Sunday's Child published by MuseItUpPublishing. Today I lunched with a close friend at The Loving Hut a vegetarian Chinese restaurant. We enjoyed the buffet style meal with lots to choose from and nattering about writing and other subjects. We are now planning to visit the Turner Exhibition later in the month.

I Wrote 4,000 Words Today

After time off during the Christmas preparations and festivities from writing Monday's Child a traditional Regency novel, the sequel to Sunday's Child, I wrote 4,000 words this morning. The main difficulty was slipping in some historical facts without allowing them to take over and make the reader feel as though he or she is reading a history book. Through dialogue, action and characterisation I think this part of Chapter Thirty-Three reads well. I planned to finish the first draft of Monday's Child by the 31st of December and am now confident that, God willing, I will do so.

Quiet Day Today

After the Christmas and my granddaughter's birthday on Boxing Day, I enjoyed a quiet day today. Amongst other things, I added 2,000 words to my novel. After all the rich food during the last few days I decided to eat sparingly. I made soup for lunch - red lentils, leeks, fresh ginger, spice, coconut milk and lemon juice. Delicious! While cooking I looked out of the window from time to time to watch the birds enjoying seeds. A male blackbird perched in the plum tree, three wood pigeons, a sparrow and a robin fed on seeds which had fallen onto the grass, while the blue tits darted backward and forward.

My happy Christmas

I enjoyed Christmas Day. I stayed at my daughter's house and woke up in time to see my five year-old granddaughter's excitement when she realised Santa had left her presents in her Santa sack. "Oh!" she exclaimed when she saw each gift, "I've always wanted that." Her older brothers who no longer believe in Father Christmas were equally pleased with their presents. The three of them were thrilled when they opened all the presents stacked under the Christmas tree and my granddaughter continued to say: "That's what I've always wanted!" After breakfast I visited my twin sons and daughters-in-law and their children. As I handed out gifts I felt like Mother Christmas. The children were so pleased with everything that I enjoyed giving more than I enjoyed receiving my presents. I had lunch at my daughter's house with her family and my bachelor son, spent the afternoon with them and then, at the grandchildren's request. I'll have lunch with them and then we'll go to my youngest son's house to celebrate his daughter's birthday. However, this is the first time since Christmas Eve, on which the whole family ate pizzas at lunchtime and then went to see Night at the Museum, which I consider Movie Trash but the children liked, that I've been able to sneak some time on the laptop. I hoped to conclude my Christmas poems with ''Twas in the Bleak Midwinter', by Christina Rossetti but didn't have the chance,

From 'Christmas' by John Betjeman

Christmas .... And is it true? And is it true? This most tremendous tale of all, Seen in a stained-glass window's he, A Baby in an ox's stall? The Maker of the starts and sea Become a Child on earth for me? And is it true? For if it is, No loving fingers tying strings Around those tissued fripperies, The sweet and silly Christmas things, Bath salts and inexpensive scent And hideous tie so kindly meant. No love that in a family dwells, No carolling in frosty air, Nor all the steeple-shaking bells Can with this simple truth compare - That God was Man in Palestine And lives today in Bread and Wine.

Christmas Poem by 8 year-old Alexamder Coulson

Advent Candle Commander of wax Waiting Alone Running from darkness Chameleon of light Brightest star Flame dancer Most beautiful Flowing like a wave The most powerful energy. Alexander Coulson Aged 8 December, 1999