Plenty of nothing to do

Christmas Day is over; a quiet day, just the two of us and the ponciest meal I cook all year, accompanied by the most expensive wine Chris will buy all year (both wonderful). Boxing Day has gone, a day spent with his family, eating the traditional turkey meal and playing silly games. Now we're in the nowhere days between Christmas and New Year, not at work but with nothing more to do. Days when it's fine to sit down on the sofa with a book at breakfast time, and not get up again until three o'clock. Days when we might not ever get out of pyjamas. They sound formless and empty, but I look forward to them all year. Just a few days free of demands, to reflect on the year that has gone, and gather our strength for the year to come (which looks like being an exciting one for more than just us). I'm trying to write a mini review of my 'cultural' year (that's a very fancy way of describing a list of favourite books, films and music), but I might equally do nothing at all. I'm relaxing, you see.