... on Christmasness and the coming year.

You know, I breathed a sigh of relief after my final market for the year. Unpacking the car for that last time felt like... like when you're finally on holidays from school, and they've been a long time coming! Don't get me wrong - I have enjoyed taking Kuberstore to the various markets this year, but I have to add that they wore me out in more ways than one, and I think this is why Christmas crept up on me this year. The house was unadorned until only a few days before, and I'm ashamed to say that this is the first year that I can remember that I haven't managed to send any christmas cards out. I'm more disappointed than I expect about this, because I did try! Making my christmas cards had, until this year, been an annual joy for me, but this time my first idea failed badly, and my second even more so, and then it was all too late and the whole lot sat in an accusing pile on my workbench until yesterday, when I chucked them out. But I have missed the rest of the process - the writing, the envelope-sealing, the addressing, stamp-affixing and the dropping-into-a-postbox. Perhaps some 'Merry January' cards might be in order?

But the past few weeks have seen rather a lot of company and a mild case of overeating rich foods - I feel like I would like to just eat plain lettuce for a while. A christmas tree was out of the question, given the interest it would generate in our monstrous teenage cat, so the Airspeed fan was bedecked, which was mostly-out-of-reach. Mostly.

A trip to the Rocklea flower markets a few days before Christmas saw me coming home laden with armloads of New Zealand christmas bush, and some of those bunches of northern-hemisphere-type festive greens that enlivened the house (and the cat) and filled up every vase I have. Their smell, drying slowly, made me think of snow, which was a good mental antidote to the heat here in Brisbane. I took refuge in our little air-conditioned house and also in the odd night away at my Ma's place at Currumbin, where ocean swims were had and my newfound interest in Instagram was indulged. Instagram is fun, isn't it?

Christmas itself was calm and foodful. Ma and I had our annual prawnfest on Christmas eve, and family came for breakfast on Christmas morning. C smoked out the neighbours (and alas, my washing that I'd forgotten was on the line) with the barbeque. Oliver-the-kitten (who was born on Christmas day) turned one.

"Me? Pull down your christmas decorations? Not me!" Yeah right.

Now, though, the greenery is in the compost heap and all the sparkly things are packed away. My home-made mint creams are all gobbled up, and the recycling bin is clinky with bottles!

I do always look forward to a new year, as it's a time of list-making and mental clearing-out, both things very good for my soul. It'll also involve an actual clearing-out for us, because we'll be moving house. It'll be sad to leave our little house here at Oxley, and I'll miss my lovely studio like mad, I suspect. But there's a room put aside for me at the new house at The Gap, which I'll report upon soon. For now... think termites, bagged eighties bessa-block, shagpile carpet and never... been... cleaned. But also... a great outlook and a big old pool that's like swimming in a sandy lagoon. Aaaah!

Happy New Year, all!