I am in the bosom of my family (TM); it is very pleasant. I have wrapped presents, made mince pies and iced the cake, and am wondering vaguely where the last couple of days have got to. Inevitably they have not had hours of them dedicated to writing, though I did get a bit done on the train.*

Ah, Christmas television, where would we be without you? Tonight's special is a two-hour sleigh journey through northern Norway. I shall be at my sister's for the evening, so have requested my parents tape it.

If you find the prospect of two hours of staring at a reindeer's bum is just a bit too much, try two minutes on how to chop wood like a Norwegian instead. Personally I want to know how to write a best-selling book on something completely random like how to chop and stack wood.

*The 5 hours 45 min train journey turned out to be very easy. I admired the fortitude of the people who had started that morning in Folkestone and were heading for the Cowal Peninsula, hopefully in time for the last ferry.